Work Text:
“How much longer is this line?” Henry grumbled to Pez. It was freezing, and the thin, black tee Henry was wearing was not doing much to protect him against the Brooklyn chill. Pez was wearing a mesh shirt. Henry didn’t know how he was doing it.
“Ten more minutes, tops,” Pez tsked. “You should be glad we’re not in the regular line.”
The regular line, for people who didn’t buy tickets online beforehand, stretched around on their right. Henry could hear the thrum of music from the club somewhere far in front of them, through the sea of bodies. “You should be glad I agreed to come with you in the first place,” Henry retorted.
“Oh, Haz,” Pez said. He placed a manicured hand on Henry’s arm. “It really isn’t hard to convince you to come out, you know. I just dangle the possibility of getting some dick in front of you, and you always are more than happy to agree.”
Henry would have given Pez an indignant shove if it weren’t for the cold; his hands were stuffed deep in his pockets. This club was gay enough to still be genuinely gay but popular enough that straight people went, too. A good enough alibi for Henry.
“Oh, come on,” Pez said more cheerfully. “You like going out. It’s just like uni again. But with more sex caverns, and less evil matriarchs going all Big Brother on us.”
Henry didn’t know about the first part, but he could confirm that there were certainly less evil matriarchs breathing down his neck. He’d left England as soon as he’d gotten the acceptance email from Columbia into their Masters program in English Literature. He’d been all too glad to inform his grandmother of this new development over a stilted family tea a week before he was scheduled to leave. Unless something truly dreadful happened and the next fourteen people in front of him in the line of succession all spontaneously died, Henry wouldn’t be needing to make a return to England anytime soon.
That was six months ago. Since arriving, Henry had thrown himself fully into his studies. His student visa was his lifeline. He hadn’t had a proper night out in ages.
“Sex caverns?” Henry asked.
“The caverns. I told you about them.”
Henry couldn’t help but laugh. “What are we, entering a grotto?”
“Maze, backroom, whatever you want to call it. You’re going to get some dick up that perky little arse of yours. You prepped beforehand, right?”
Henry blew out an embarrassed breath and glanced around to see if anyone was eavesdropping on their conversation. It didn’t look like it. Everyone was absorbed in their own conversations, too drunk or high or both to care about what he and Pez discussed.
“Yes,” Henry said. He’d prepped beforehand. Pez had been to this club a few months ago. They didn’t allow outside liquids on the premises, so lube was not allowed. Following Pez’s unnecessarily detailed instructions, Henry had douched a couple hours ago, and then had spent the remainder of his time fingering himself and playing with a buttplug, which then progressed into him playing with a dildo. The prepping may have been a bit more indulgent than was necessary, but that was fine. Henry liked edging.
A pre-lubed hole and a generous amount of spit would just have to do.
The line slowly inched forward. By the time they made it to the front, Henry was getting antsy. He’d been to big clubs like this in Berlin before, but that had been a few years ago. He felt like he was going through airport security. When the androgynous bouncer asked them to step forward, Henry and Pez obediently handed over their passports. The bouncer gave them a silent, scrutinizing once-over. A cold sweat broke out on the back of Henry’s neck. Was he dressed cool enough? Were they going to turn him away and let only Pez in? He’d already watched multiple people get turned away.
After an excruciating few seconds, the bouncer finally handed back their passports and nodded them through without a word. Pez beamed and chirped, “Thank you!”
After that, things went faster. They were efficiently patted down by a couple of butch lesbians, and then they were allowed to enter.
Henry’s first thought was that it was humid—greenhouse humid. People milled about the bar area, but the bar was clearly not the main attraction. The promise of a dance floor thrummed from deeper within.
“First,” Pez declared in a haughty tone, loud enough to be heard over the music, “we require vodka shots. Second, you will accompany me on a pee break. Then, we shall dance. Are you amenable to this plan of action?”
“I am indeed,” Henry responded.
“Well, then. To the bar!”
The bartender was a shirtless man who looked like he’d rather be anywhere else on earth. He poured four shots and then handed them the card reader. Henry gawked at the price. This place was expensive, even for New York. He now understood why so many people who went to circuit parties “didn’t drink.” Doing ketamine and molly was objectively the more economical choice.
Pez and Henry each raised one of the shot glasses.
“Here’s to over a decade of putting up with each other,” Pez said with a wild grin.
They clashed the shot glasses together and then tipped them back into their mouths. Henry winced, the cheap liquor burning his throat. He and Pez grabbed the second round. The red strobe lights danced against the liquor.
“And here,” said Henry, “is to hell. May our stay there be just as fun as our way there.”
___________
They’d been dancing for almost an hour. Henry’s skin was damp with sweat. Bodies jostled him and Pez against one another. A couple men had already come up behind them and started grinding against them. Henry had welcomed it for a few minutes each time, but he wasn’t in the mood to abandon his friend quite yet. Once he had been groped to his heart’s content, he would shoo the men off and return his attention to the DJ. They had the whole night ahead of them. Pez was adamant about not going home until at least five in the morning, either by himself or with someone new.
Eventually, Pez tapped him on the shoulder and pointed to a less crowded area, away from the dance floor. It was too loud to talk. Henry nodded, and then Pez took Henry’s hand and led him through the hot, sweat-slicked mass of bodies until they emerged near the bar area.
“I need air. Let’s go outside,” Pez yelled. Still tugging, Pez wound his way through the complex. They passed by a thin, dark hallway. When Henry briefly glanced inside, he saw an older man looming above a younger man, the younger man kneeling with his back against the wall. The older man had his trousers around his thighs and was fucking the boy’s throat. Henry balked. It was too dark to see anything beyond the pair of men. Pez dragged Henry onward.
They approached a doorway with clear vinyl industrial curtains hanging over it. Pushing their way through, they emerged into a small courtyard. Fresh air filled Henry’s lungs. It was so cold it stung. People around their age chatted in groups and sat on benches, passing around lighters. Henry could smell weed and cigarette smoke.
“Whoa,” Henry said. He burst into startled laughter. His breath made a cloud in front of his face. “Did you see that?”
“The caverns?” Pez wiggled his eyebrows and shoved Henry. “That could be you, Haz. Getting dominated by some American daddy in the filthy backroom of an disreputable establishment.”
“Christ,” Henry said. He felt giddy. “Do you just walk back there and find someone? Or do you have to meet someone on the dancefloor first? What are the rules? How far back does that hallway go?”
“Lord, one question at a time. The hallway goes back pretty far, and there are offshoots and corners. There aren’t any rules. You can do whatever you want.”
Henry felt like his skin was vibrating. “Oh my god,” he said again. “Percy.”
“I know. Am I a great mate or what?”
Henry flushed. “Christ. I can’t believe this.”
“Come on," Pez said. He jumped up and down. "You should go back there. Like right now, before you can overthink it.”
“What, are you mad?”
“Haz,” Pez said, finally standing still. He sandwiched Henry’s face between his palms and squeezed. “You haven’t gotten laid in months. You are overworked and underfucked. Everything is completely anonymous back there. Go. Have. Fun.”
Henry bit his lip. Weakly protesting, he said, “But you’ll be all by yourself while I’m gone.”
“There are a couple of incredibly alluring women over there. I will be fine.”
Henry glanced to his left, where two women were talking closely. Henry couldn’t tell if they were together or if they were just friends.
“Are you sure you’ll be okay if I go?” Henry said.
“I am sure,” Pez said. He gave Henry’s face a final pat, grabbed his shoulders, turned him around, and then slapped his arse. “Now go get ‘em.”
Steeling himself, Henry went back inside. He approached the hallway with apprehension. He’d never done anything like this before. Quick, dirty fucks in public loos—yes. But he’d never had the opportunity to do something of this caliber before. He’d fantasized about it, of course, but it was always one of those fantasies that he cognitively recognized as pure, simple fantasy. There was never going to be a reality in which he could go off and shag a man out in the open.
When he finally arrived at the hallway, the two men who were there before were gone. A couple of other guys were making out in their place. Henry stepped fully inside. There were no lights back here. He had to move slowly in the dark so he didn’t trip. As he went further back and passed the guys who were making out, his eyes adjusted more. Figures moved in front of him. It became more crowded the further back he went.
It was so dim that he couldn’t make out anyone’s faces, but he could very much see the dark outline of people on their knees giving blowjobs and people getting bent over and fucked.
Henry’s trousers felt tight. He palmed himself through the denim. He went deeper.
There were men lined up against the walls every few feet, their trousers around their thighs and their fists around their cocks. The ones closest to him were watching a man on all fours getting spitroasted by two other men. Skin slapped against skin.
Henry pressed his back against the wall and stared at the three of them. He felt hot with arousal and trepidation. He’d never really considered himself a voyeur.
He preferred to be on the receiving end of that kind of attention. It was the thrill of almost getting caught with a lover, of knowing that if he did get caught, that there wasn’t a damn thing his family could do to cover up the media storm that would follow. No brushing it under the rug. No denying that their beloved grandson was a massive, cocksucking pansy. It would all be out, smeared across the headlines of The Sun. If forcibly being outed was Henry’s ticket to freedom, then he’d take it.
Of course, that was another fantasy that stayed strictly in the realm of pure, simple fantasy.
Henry’s skin felt prickly. He wanted to move on. He didn’t want to watch; he wanted action. Pushing himself off the wall and gingerly stepping around the trio in the dark, he went deeper into the maze. Rounding a corner, he ducked into a smaller hallway. It was so narrow that both of Henry’s shoulders brushed the sides. It was even darker than the main hallway. He hadn’t gotten two feet before smacking directly into another man. Henry’s chin bumped into his forehead, the man clearly shorter than him. The man’s hair smelled good.
“Sorry,” Henry said. Henry could barely make out many of the man’s features, but he could see curls silhouetting his head.
“What?” the man yelled. The music was still loud, even back here.
Henry leaned forward and put his hand on the man’s shoulder. Louder: “I said, ‘sorry.’”
A little bit of nervous laughter bubbled out of the man’s throat. “You’re good!” the man replied. He sounded young, maybe around Henry’s age. Although Henry certainly wasn’t against hooking up with older men, this whole experience felt very overwhelming. Someone closer to his own age would put him more at ease.
Henry didn’t let go of the man’s shoulder. They hovered in front of each other for a few more seconds, neither of them moving away. Then Henry gave an experimental squeeze, and he rubbed his thumb back and forth against the man’s clavicle. It was enough touch to let the man know that Henry was interested.
The man brought his hand to Henry’s waist.
Henry leaned forward and found the man’s lips in the dark. He had stubble. The man moaned, then brought his other hand up to Henry’s neck. Henry pushed the man against the nearest wall and pressed their hips together. The man gasped into Henry’s mouth. Henry caught his bottom lip and tugged. Another moan escaped him.
Henry liked responsive men. This one was a good one. He pressed their pelvises together harder. Their cocks rubbed against each other. The man was good at kissing—Henry felt lightheaded from it.
The man brought an arm around Henry’s waist, locking them together, before grabbing a handful of Henry’s arse. Feeling the spread of his cheeks made Henry’s knees weak. He needed this man inside him as soon as possible.
Reaching between their bodies and fumbling with the man’s zipper, Henry finally managed to pull out the man’s cock. He was half-hard and leaking already. Henry didn’t waste any time. He got on his knees right there in the middle of the hallway and took him as deep into his throat as he could manage.
“Jesus—fuck,” the man panted above him.
Henry bobbed his head in little motions so the tip massaged the back of his throat before pulling off entirely. He licked a stripe up the cock from root to tip while he caught his breath, then went back to sucking him. His left hand followed the motion of his head while his right hand found its way down the back of his trousers. His fingers brushed his slick hole. He pressed a finger in, beginning to open himself back up again. He was vaguely aware of the fact that it was entirely possible that people were watching them right now. It made Henry harder.
One thing about this man was that he was leaking a lot. Henry tongued the tip for a few delicious moments. Then, he took him in his mouth again, even deeper than before. Although he hadn’t been with someone recently, he’d done a considerable amount of gag reflex training during uni. It wasn’t anything he couldn’t pick up easily again. With his throat occupied, Henry reached down to his trouser pocket and pulled out the couple condoms he’d brought with him. Blindly and breathlessly, he tore one open, made a good estimate of which side was the correct side, removed his mouth, and then slid the condom on.
The man didn’t protest, which was good. Henry had met his fair share of gay men who balked at the idea of using protection. Spitting into his palm and returning his hand to the man’s cock, Henry glided his palm over the shaft and the head. Henry needed him nice and wet. He took him into his mouth again. The latex was tacky with lube from the packaging.
They continued like that for a few more minutes, until the man’s cock was slippery with saliva and Henry had three fingers shoved inside himself. The man took Henry’s head and pulled him off the ground. They met in a messy, wet kiss. The man was kissing him like he was starving for it. Henry responded in kind.
Without a word, Henry spun them around until it was his own stomach that was pressed against the wall. The man hugged Henry from behind and kissed his neck. Henry moaned at the feeling, relishing it. He pushed his trousers down until they were by his knees. He could feel the man’s cock behind him, slick against Henry's thighs. Henry pushed backward, needing more contact.
The other man’s fingers were light on his skin. They gave an experimental caress of Henry’s cleft, and Henry could feel the surprised gasp against his back when the man felt how wet and loose Henry already was. A finger slipped inside. Henry groaned. He arched his back, giving the man better access. Henry reached behind himself blindly until he found the man’s cock. He slid it over his hole, up and down, then started to nudge it inside.
The man did the rest of the work. He sank in slowly, carefully. The stretch wasn’t painful, but the spit wasn’t as lubricating as what Henry was used to. Henry felt every twitch of movement. Henry’s mouth fell open and he tilted his forehead against the wall as the man continued to push into him.
When the man finally bottomed out, he stood still and reached a hand around to Henry’s cock. Henry had gone soft as the man was entering him, but now the man was working him to full hardness again. Henry bit his lip to keep himself under control. With the amount of edging he’d done earlier, he was afraid he wasn’t going to last long. Putting a hand on the man’s to make him pause, Henry thrust backwards against the man’s cock. Henry could hear the hitch of breath in his ear. The man’s stubble raked against the delicate skin of Henry’s neck.
Henry thrust again. The man placed both hands against Henry’s hips to still him. Then, the man pulled back and pushed in, the first real stroke. Then he did it again. This time, the man brushed against Henry’s prostate. Henry gasped.
They began truly fucking. Henry’s back was arched and his face was pressed hard against the brick of the cavern wall. He hoped it left a mark there in the morning. The stranger’s cock filled him up so well that Henry felt delirious with pleasure. He liked getting roughed up. Liked getting used by a stranger in the dark. The pleasure built as Henry was pounded into the wall, until he couldn’t tell where the man’s body ended against his own. Their limbs were tangled together and the man’s mouth was everywhere—against the back of his neck, tugging on his earlobe, biting into his shoulder. There would be bruises tomorrow, surely. Henry keened at the thought.
Spitting into his palm, Henry began stroking himself in tandem with each thrust. He was already so close, his body so tense. On a particularly well-aimed thrust, Henry came. Most of it slid over his fingers, but he was sure that some of it ended up against the wall. He didn’t care. He hadn’t been fucked that well in months. Hell, he hadn’t been fucked that well in years.
The man sped up. The loud sound of skin against skin filled Henry’s ears. That was them making that sound. Everyone back here could surely hear it. Henry’s eyes rolled up in painful pleasure as overstimulation set it. The man’s breathing turned harsh. His hips were beginning to stutter.
Suddenly, the man thrust in hard, and then he stilled. The man’s vice-like grip on Henry’s hips tightened. He was cumming. Henry pictured in his mind how much more erotic this would all be if he hadn’t given the man a condom, if the man had taken him raw. Henry wondered if he’d be able to feel the cum paint his insides. He wondered what it would feel like to spend the rest of the night letting it drip slowly out of him.
Their breathing evened out together. The man still hadn’t let him go and hadn’t pulled out yet. By the time Henry became more aware of their surroundings, the man was back to kissing the back of Henry’s neck. These kisses weren’t the hungry ones from before. They were soft. Henry leaned his head back and met the man in a proper kiss.
The man slowly pulled out. Henry let out a hiss of breath. He felt so empty. His hole clenched around nothing. Henry could sense the man tying off the condom.
The man leaned down to help Henry shimmy up his trousers, which had fallen to his ankles. Henry chuckled and gave him a quiet, “Thank you,” but he doubted it could be heard over the din of the club.
While Henry was in the middle of buttoning his trousers, the man went to grab his own jeans from where they lay at his ankles. The man immediately smacked his head into the wall. Henry could hear the thud very clearly.
“Fuck,” the man let out. He put a hand against his forehead.
Henry gasped. “God, are you alright?”
The man didn’t answer for a few seconds. Henry put his hand on his back, worrying over what he should do. The man lifted his free hand and gave Henry a barely-visible silhouette of a thumbs up.
“All good,” the man said definitively. “All good.” He still had a hand pressed against his forehead. Was it bleeding? Henry couldn’t tell.
“Erm,” Henry began, trying to keep his voice loud enough that the man could hear. “Did you come here with friends? Let’s go try to find them, alright?”
Henry didn’t wait for the man to answer. Whether the man came here with friends or not, he certainly was in no state to stay in the caverns.
The dance floor was a hopeless sea of people, impossible to find anyone in, so Henry steered them outside. The light from the perpetually-gray night sky in New York was more than enough to see by.
When they emerged, Henry immediately dragged his eyes over the man—first for injuries, and then to take him in. The main, absurd thing Henry noticed was just how long his eyelashes were. The man’s brown eyes were incredibly warm. Henry’s voice died in his throat. Christ, the man was beautiful.
“So sorry about that, dude,” the man said. He raked his fingers through his hair sheepishly, leaving a trail of ravished curls behind. Henry wanted to combust. “It doesn’t even hurt that bad, really.”
Henry had to remind himself how to speak. “Good, that’s good.”
“Thanks for leading me out, though. I might’ve been wandering around down there forever.”
“Even if you’d been lost in the maze until morning, I’m sure you would have found a worthwhile way to pass the time.”
The man laughed. It was a bright, clear thing. Dimples appeared on his cheeks. “Sorry, sweetheart. I save Thesean tasks for the third date, minimum.”
“Am I getting a third date, then?” Henry asked. He didn’t know why he said it. He was feeling bold. He wasn’t even sure if he meant “date” in a traditional sense or not. He certainly wouldn’t be opposed to it.
The man pursed his lips and then smiled. “You’d have to pass the second date first, but something tells me you won’t have any trouble doing that.”
“Good,” Henry said. He pulled out his mobile and opened a blank message. He handed it to the man. “I’m Henry, by the way.”
“Alex,” the man answered. He typed his information in and gave the mobile back to Henry. Henry was greeted with a text addressed to “alex🥵🍆” that read “hey ;)”
Henry snorted and tried not to roll his eyes. He pocketed the phone.
“Are you just here visiting, or…?” Alex asked. He fidgeted with his hands.
“I live here. Moved during the summer.”
“Oh, nice.” Alex visibly relaxed. “Me too. I was in DC for a while, but there are only so many years you can take of electoral bootlicking before you lose hope in humanity.”
A sudden laugh punched its way out of Henry’s chest. “I know the feeling all too well.”
“Oh, yeah?”
“Mm. Intimately and unwillingly. It’s partly why I’m here, too. Sort of.”
Alex was looking at him expectantly, waiting for him to continue. Henry felt loose-limbed and open. He did continue.
In fact, they continued for the better part of an hour—out there in the cold, both similarly underdressed for the weather, but neither willing to interrupt the moment to go back inside. Henry learned that Alex was a year younger than him and had just started law school at NYU. Alex spoke quickly and with emphasis and did not mince words. He had always been a sucker for constitutional law, which he explained to Henry in depth, but he was beginning to lean more towards civil rights law. Alex had an older sister, who was here with him now, along with his best friend. They all lived together in East Williamsburg. He grew up in Texas.
Henry revealed more about himself than he would usually ever do to a stranger, let alone someone who just fucked him in a dark backroom at a club. Henry liked to keep his relationships simple and clearly defined. But he couldn’t help himself. They’d found a spot of wall to lean against, and Alex had his arm wrapped around Henry’s waist. Alex’s hand was tucked into Henry’s back pocket. They took advantage of each other’s warmth. They would kiss, then talk, and then kiss some more.
Henry spoke about London and the townhouse he’d grown up in, about summers split between his dad’s family on the Welsh coast and his mum’s family at the country house in Norfolk. He talked in length about his gran, whom Alex declared to be “a shitty, old, bitter hag.” He explained the series of events that had led him to uproot his life across the Atlantic: his father’s passing, a gap year lost to grief, the obligation to behave correctly, the completion of his studies at Oxford, and the mounting pressure to enlist. He’d spent the past year fucking about at a part-time job at a used bookshop in London in the hopes that if he laid low enough that his grandmother would conveniently forget that he existed. He had no such luck. (He did not mention the line of succession to Alex. That would also have to be a third date activity, at minimum.)
Eventually, they were interrupted by three pairs of shuffling feet approaching them. Henry and Alex looked up from where their heads were ducked together. Henry’s lips felt raw from Alex’s stubble. They stung against the cold.
Pez stood before them, flanked by two women. It was the two women that Pez had pointed out beforehand. A cheshire grin spread across Pez’s face. One of the women seemed to have a similar expression.
“Hello, lovebirds,” Pez sing-songed.
Henry cleared his throat. “Er—Alex, this is my mate, Pez.”
Pez stuck out his hand and shook Alex’s hand vigorously. “An absolute pleasure. I was helpfully informed, after we spotted you two snogging, that these two lovely ladies knew you. What are the chances of that?” Pez eyed Henry. “Star-crossed, no?”
“Hey,” the grinning woman said to Henry. She looked like she was part of an inside joke that only she knew about. She was taller than the other woman, but still not especially tall. Her braids reached close to her hips. She gave Henry a very thorough, very obvious once-over before turning her attention to Alex. “Had a good time, Alex?”
Henry could see the deep flush on Alex’s cheeks. “Yeah. You?”
“I’ve had a great time,” the woman answered easily. “We’ve been dancing for almost two hours.”
“It’s so hot and stuffy in there I thought I was going to pass out,” the other woman said. She regarded Henry more amiably than the other woman had. “I’m June, Alex’s sister.”
It clicked into place. Alex said that he was here with his sister and his friend, Nora. “Right,” Henry said. “Alex was telling me about you.”
“And I can’t wait to learn more about you,” Nora said loudly. Beside him, Alex was giving her a death glare.
“Anyway,” Pez said, “we’re headed out. Wanted to tell you before leaving. But you made it easy, since you’re both here at the same time. Two birds, one stone.”
“All of you?” Alex asked. He looked confused. Henry had to stifle his laughter.
“Yep,” Nora said. “But now that we’re here, are you two headed out now too? Or are you finding your own way home later?”
Henry and Alex looked at each other. On one hand, Henry was kind of upset with Pez for interrupting their conversation. On the other hand, he really wanted to take Alex home.
“You’re welcome to come back to my place, if you want,” Henry offered. “I’m near Fort Greene.”
Alex puffed out a breath of laughter. “Fort Greene. I don’t even wanna know how long that subway ride is. We’re a twenty-five minute walk from here. That might be easier.”
Henry held back a grimace. “I’ll call an Uber. I’ve got to get out of the cold. We can go back to mine.”
It was settled, then. The five of them went back inside, pushed their way through to the exit, and then emerged back into the frigid winter air. Pez and Henry both called separate Ubers. Pez had a small flat in Soho where he spent half his time, partially to look after his family’s string of international nonprofits and partially to make sure Henry didn’t wind up friendless and alone in the new city.
Henry and Alex’s car ride was short. Henry was afraid their tranquil rapport would be broken by the change in scenery, but he was proven wrong. Alex just kept on talking. Henry found it endearing. Alex was in the middle of talking about a podcast he liked to listen to when they pulled up outside Henry’s place. They thanked the driver and got out.
Henry led them up the steps to the multi-family brownstone. He unlocked the first door with a passcode, then unlocked the second with a key. They started heading up the thin staircase to the third floor.
“Sorry about Nora,” Alex said behind Henry, though his words weren’t unkind. “She can be a bit direct. She was the one who dared me to go back there—like, into the maze.”
Henry laughed quietly. He didn’t want to disturb his neighbors. “You went back there on a dare?”
When they got to the third floor, Henry unlocked the final door with another key. He opened the door to his flat and waved Alex inside.
“Yeah. I kind of, uh, had never slept with a guy? Before tonight?”
Henry slowly wheeled on him and raised an eyebrow. “Are you serious?”
Alex looked thoroughly embarrassed, standing in the doorway. “Yes? But it wasn’t an experiment or anything. I’m, like, definitely bi.”
Henry was at a loss for words. He opened his mouth, closed it, and then finally settled on: “Well, you certainly jumped into the deep end. And I wouldn’t have guessed, if it’s any consolation.” Henry stepped toward Alex and gently grabbed the man’s waist. He pressed their hips together. “Are you coming inside, love?”
Alex nodded. He caught Henry’s mouth with his own. By the time they’d finally made it fully into the flat, they were both hard again. They broke away from each other to toe off their shoes.
“You live here by yourself?” Alex asked, glancing around. There was a leather loveseat and a couple of deep armchairs in the living room. The main thing that had sold Henry on the flat were the original, solid wood built-in shelves. He was still working on filling them up with books. Beyond the threshold was the kitchen, which functioned mainly as Henry’s office. He was an abysmal cook.
Before Henry could answer, David trotted up to greet them. Henry immediately bent down to pet him. “This is my roommate, David.”
“David? What is he, an accountant?”
“For Bowie. A man’s got to have a bit of mystery, doesn’t he?”
Alex immediately sat down on the floor and started petting David. Henry watched them carefully. He always liked to assess a man by how he interacted with David. Most of the time, the men would pass with flying colors. But occasionally, they would be dismissive of David and wouldn’t want anything to do with him. On one occasion, David had outright growled at a bloke that Henry had brought home. Henry immediately told the man to leave. He deadbolted the door behind him.
David seemed to be in heaven with Alex, though. He was sprawled out on his back with his tongue out. He panted happily as Alex rubbed his belly.
“I’m glad you’re not allergic,” Henry said. “I always forget to ask.”
“I’ve always wanted a dog. If I’d known you had one, I would have insisted we get our asses back here sooner.”
Henry stood and went to the kitchen to get water. He filled two glasses and then came back to the living room. Alex was still busy pampering David. As cute as it was, Henry wanted Alex in his bed as soon as possible. He was determined to ride him hard.
“My bedroom is this way,” Henry prompted.
Alex cleared his throat and sprung up. He smoothed out his jeans. “Right.”
___________
In the morning, Henry woke up to a warm bed. Alex was nestled into the covers and sleeping soundly. The gray light felt delicate. Henry didn’t dare move. He didn’t want to break the moment. Eventually, he fell asleep again.
___________
They rose in the early afternoon. It was luxurious, getting up so late. Henry blew Alex until he came. Alex returned the favor. They rolled out of bed into the shower, then went another round there. By the time they stumbled into the living room, it was close to three. Alex wore one of Henry’s jumpers. They parted ways at the top of the stairs. Henry was sure he looked dopey-eyed as he watched Alex tread down the steps to the base of the brownstone. Henry shut the door.
Henry pulled out his mobile.
Henry · 2:48 PM
You've got to come back
and return that jumper at
some point, you know.
alex🥵🍆 · 2:53 PM
promise?