Chapter Text
WEDNESDAY
New offices always made John Laurens nervous, and the fact that this one appeared deserted at three o’clock on a Wednesday was not comforting in the slightest. The office of City Blues was modern but sparse. A cluster of offices framed in glass was a nice change from the shabby cubicles that populated the offices that John usually worked for. John wandered back through the halls.
“Hello?” he called out. “Anyone here?”
There was a light on in one of the offices at the end of the hall, so John tried there.
“Excuse me?” he said, knocking his fist on the open door.
A man sat behind a giant Apple monitor. A hurricane of papers and issues of City Blues were scattered on his desk, the empty chair next to his desk, even on the floor. He apparently hadn’t heard John, as evidenced by his headphones and the lightening speed of his fingers on the keyboard.
“Excuse me?” John repeated, louder this time. The man peered around his monitor, glanced quickly at John and slid his headphones to around his neck.
“Sorry. Model open calls are down on the 5th floor,” he said quickly, moved to put his headphones back on and return his attention to the screen.
“Model open... wait what?”
The man did a double take. Gave John the once over, in a way that made him suddenly nervous. “Oh, I assumed.” The guy blushed and coughed. He was moving at such a frenetic pace it was hard for John to get a good look at him. His eyes were on the screen and his fingers still flying on the keyboard, but he directed the next question at John. “If you’re not here for the open call, what can I help you with?”
“I have a three fifteen meeting with Angelica Schyluer?”
“Shit!” the guy said quickly and jumped up, but was still looking at his screen, clicking frantically with his mouse. “Oh fuck, are you the... graphic artist?” He actually drew to his full height and looked John face on. “I’m so sorry. Damn it. Ang is out on maternity leave, damn baby came early. We’re splitting her duties right now but I forgot to sync my Google calendar. Shit.”
John sputtered, unsure what to say. This man was moving at a pace unknowable to him, practically giving him whiplash. He was still stuck on being mistaken for a model, but his hand was being shaken and he was being steered out of the office.
“I’m Alexander Hamilton, Features Editor. Here, let’s go to the conference room, more comfortable, more room for you to spread yourself out.”
“Excuse me?” John said quickly, catching a hint of innuendo in the man’s voice.
“Your work, I meant spread your work out. Shit. Sorry.”
“Ok, here we are.” Alexander Hamilton flopped unceremoniously into one of the empty rolling chairs. Looked expectantly at John. John stared, unsure what to do. Usually editors drove initial meetings, and it could go any direction.
“So um, are you gonna show me some of your art? Or?”
John sighed and set his portfolio flat on the table. “Don’t you want to know my name? Do you need my resume?”
Alexander shook his head as if dazed. “Of course. Your name.”
“I’m John Laurens,” he said carefully. Slid his resume out of his portfolio and across the table to Alexander. He left it laying in front of him, his eyes almost blurring he was reading it so fast. John cleared his throat and Alexander looked back up at him and smiled.
His smile was disarming. Made him look ten years younger. John took a moment to really take him in, look at his face properly. He looked to be in his mid to late twenties, Latino. Olive skin and medium brown eyes. His black hair was piled on his head in a haphazard bun. He wore a Columbia University sweatshirt. Before when he had been moving a million miles a minute he was passably cute. But when he smiled, his eyes lit up and his whole face relaxed, he went from cute to downright adorable. John felt his stomach twist. He cleared his throat and started pulling examples of his work out of his portfolio and laying them out on the table.
John talked through a few of his notable pieces. Infographs for nonprofits. Logos for startups. Illustrations for websites and publications. He realized he was sort of droning on, and Alexander was hardly listening. Wasn’t even looking at the art. Those brown eyes fixed on him instead.
“I have to tell you,” Alex said, leaning in and sounding conspiratorial. “I don’t know shit about art. I mean your stuff looks great! Is there, like a particular reason you want to work with City Blues in particular?”
After a calming inhale, John launched into the answer he had practiced. “Your publication’s vision aligns with my own political leanings, and I think my artistic style would lend itself well to y’all’s storytelling. For example, that piece a few months ago on the school to prison pipeline, I actually…” John shuffled through the stack of glossy printouts. “I thought the art didn’t really match the tone? So I put together some ideas…”
Alex studied the images. John had worked with several statistics from the article, used very bold and cool colors to emphasize the damage and the severity of the article’s findings.
“Whoa,” Alex said softly. “These are great.”
“Thank you,” said John, suddenly shy. Tingled slightly when Alex’s fingers brushed his own as he returned the pictures.
“As far as I’m concerned, you’re hired for the project.”
“Really?”
“Yeah. Your stuff is great, I think it’s exactly what we’re looking for the upcoming issue, and I think you’ll fit in well... here. ”
“Oh, ok great! Is there anything you can tell me about the project specifically, or?”
Alex burst out laughing. “Not a damn thing. It’s not in my department. But I will put you in touch with Jones, she handles all the stuff for the Op Eds. Which is where we need the illustrations. I think.” He yawned and smiled again. “I do know the article are contrasting viewpoints on the city’s proposed reforms regarding the homeless. If you do something like this--” he gestured at the illustrations John had just shown him “--with this kind of tone? Eye catching but like supporting the actual information. You’re exactly what we’re looking for.”
“Wow. Great! What are the next steps?”
“Jones will email you. Most of your stuff can be done remotely, I’m sure she’ll need you to come in for a few meetings, talk to the writers. If you don’t hear from her by Monday, you can call me directly.” Alex patted his pockets, as if looking for something. “Shit. Here, lemme. I’ll grab you my card.” He darted out of the room.
Still slightly dazed, John spent time packing his pieces back up. He was shrugging his jacket on when Alex returned brandishing a business card, which John carefully slid into his folio.
“So, um, thank you, it was really nice meeting you,” John said hurriedly. The way Alex was looking at him was making him anxious, and he got the job, he didn’t want any of his body language or a too loaded look to make the guy uncomfortable and cost him the gig.
Smirking, Alex watched him., offered his hand to shake in parting, which John reciprocated nervously. “You have a good night, John Laurens,” he said silkily.
“You too.” John practically bolted out the door.
***
The call came in about an hour after John made it back to his loft in Chelsea.
“Hello?” John said uncertainly, not recognizing the number with the NYC area code.
“Is this John Laurens?”
“It is.”
“Oh great, it’s Alex. Alex Hamilton, from City Blues? We just met?”
“Right. Hello. How did you... get my number?”
“I’m a reporter. Finding information is my job.”
John choked slightly. “What?”
“I’m totally kidding. It’s on your resume. I do have a question I forgot to ask.”
His heart was racing now. He was gonna lose this job, he just knew it. Fuck. It wouldn’t be the end of the world, per say. He didn’t need the money. But he really liked the magazine, wanted to do more serious work. Breaking into the business was daunting, but having his work in such a well read magazine could be game changing for a freelancer.
With this thought in his mind, he responded nervously: “Of course.”
“Can I take you to dinner?”
John practically dropped the phone. “W-what?”
“Sorry, I usually ask in person, but conflict of interest and all that. So, tomorrow night?”
Slightly dazed, John said, “Sure. Ok.”
“You know what, fuck it. Are you free tonight?”
“Tonight? Uh…”
“I have an editors meeting til 8, and usually everyone grabs food before hand but I didn’t eat this afternoon. I was too busy with a piece I was working on and then I had to interview this cute graphic artist.”
“Sure, I could do tonight,” John said slowly, thanking whatever higher power that his blush couldn’t be heard over the line. Who was this guy?
“Great! There’s this awesome ramen place right down the street, I’ll text you the address. See you there at 8:30?”
“Ok.”
“Alright then.” Alex’s voice suddenly dropped an octave, to something sultry. “I look forward to it, John Laurens.” And ended the call before John could respond.
***
It was 8:25, and John caught sight of himself in the reflection of the ramen shop, hoping, well... Hoping a lot of things. Hoping he had the right address. Hoping that he wouldn’t make an idiot of himself. Hoping that he looked ok. He had worn his hair down, and changed into a nice button down and jeans. Figured his appearance was passable.
Even considering how he got here in the first place was baffling. John normally wasn’t the type of guy to accept a date from someone he just met. If he was being honest, he wasn’t the type of guy who got asked out like that. Sure, he was no stranger to one night stands. But taking home some man after drinking and grinding was completely different than sitting across from someone handsome and interesting and being forced to talk. Mostly likely about himself. First dates were things John usually had days to agonize and worry about. However, there was something extremely appealing about the tight timeline, about getting swept into something so sudden. It gave him less time to doubt or worry.
Live while you’re young, he figured.
At 8:35, John began to worry that perhaps he had the wrong place.
At 8:40, he was more worried he was the butt of some cruel joke.
At 8:41 he was ready to give up and go home, but then heard someone calling his name.
“John! Hey, sorry, our meeting ran over. I should have texted but.” Alex shrugged kind of helplessly. He was still in just his hoodie and jeans. More chunks of his hair had fallen out of his bun.
“It’s ok,” John said slowly. “I started to think I had the wrong place.”
“No, my fault. I’ll make it up to you.” His eyes sparkled mischievously. “First round of sake on me.”
John rolled his head back and forth to loosen the tension in his shoulders and followed Alex into the restaurant.
It appeared Alex was a regular. He greeted their waiter by name, didn’t even look at the menu, then shooed the guy away when it was apparent John needed more time to figure out what he wanted.
They sat in nervous silence while he poured over the menu. Stuff like ramen shops were still something John was getting used to.
“Do you need help picking something out?” Alex asked. He sounded like he genuinely wanted to be helpful, not condescending or impatient.
“Maybe,” John said carefully. “To be honest, the only ramen I’ve ever had came in those plastic packets and cost like 75 cents.”
“Then you’ve been missing out, John Laurens. So like, do you have any things you don’t eat? Are you a vegetarian?”
“Oh, no way. I love meat.”
“Do you now?” Alex asked, his voice suddenly flirty. John felt himself blushing furiously.
“Yeah, I mean, I’m good with. Yeah.”
“So like, the shoyu ramen is really good, pretty much everyone likes it. If you prefer something spicy, the curry ramen is awesome. And if like noodles aren’t your thing, they have tonkatsu which is this rice bowl thing, with a fried pork cutlet. It’s like the best comfort food.”
Even with his heart still racing from the flirtatious exchange from seconds ago, there was something so endearing about Alex. His willingness to break down the menu, and so kindly, was the opposite of how a lot of New Yorkers had acted around John. And it also wasn’t the fakey-nice brand of southern manners he grew up with, either.
He decided on the shoyu ramen, and with their orders out of the way, Alex launched right into what felt like twenty questions. They were so quick and direct, it left John slightly dizzy.
“How old are you?”
“I’m twenty-six, my birthday’s not--”
“Do you have any siblings?”
“Yeah, three younger--”
“What about pets?”
“None here, but back ho--”
‘Kids? You don’t have kids, do you?”
“No, defini--”
“You have an accent. Where are you from?”
“Charleston. South Carolina.” John took a breath and sipped his tea. The barrage of questions, followed by such a short space in which to answer was slightly exhausting.
“Oh neat. The South. What’s that like?”
John snorted. “Hot. Religious. White. Closed minded.”
Alex fiddled with his chopsticks. “But you’re only like one of those things? Maybe two?”
“I’m definitely not religious,” John said firmly. “Nor White. Well, not fully, anyway. And I try to be... open minded.”
The look Alex gave him was pointed. “Open minded is good.” He took a sip of his sake. “So, I could ask you about where you went to school. But I know that from your resume. Undergrad at Vanderbilt and MFA at... SCAD?”
“Right,” John said, unnerved.
“How long you been in New York?”
“I moved here last summer,” John said softly.
“You like it?”
“Does anyone every really like New York?”
Alex laughed. “True.”
“So, are you going to tell me about yourself? Or I mean, at least give me your resume to look at?”
Alex laughed again, his face lighting up. “Of course, sure. Ok. Um. Born in St. Thomas. Moved here when I was a kid. I studied Journalism and Poli Sci at Columbia, got my masters from NYU. Been working for City Blues for a few years now.”
“Did you always want to be a journalist?”
“Um. Sort of? I kind of fell into it when I realized I wanted to be part of politics without the baggage and personal commitment of running for office. Getting to bitch about it from afar is more up my alley.”
“Yeah?”
“What about you and art?”
John’s hands twisted in his lap. “I always was interested in art. My dad pressured me into pre-Law at Vandy but after, when I turned 21, I was able to gain some financial independence and said screw him, went to SCAD.” John sipped at his sake, hoping it would calm his nerves. “My dad is… disappointed in me. Wanted his eldest son to make partner before 30, run for office, marry a nice girl, have a passel of babies and big stupid house. Like him.”
“I take it that’s not really your style?
“Kinda hard to meet a nice girl when you’re gay.”
Alex snorted. “So I think I get what kind of person your dad is.”
“What about yours? What’s your dad like?”
“Dunno. Never met him.”
Thankfully their food came at that moment, two steaming bowls of broth and noodles. Alex glanced curiously at John’s bowl before digging into his own.
“Mmmph,” Alex said, the sound he made sinful. “Christ, that’s good. John you have got to try this pork belly. Here.”
Before John could answer, Alex was poking a chunk of the meat into his mouth. He had to admit it was good, but he refrained from making any sex noises in response. The very thought made him blush.
The conversation continued, typical date stuff. John relaxed in increments, something about Alex setting him at ease. Even though he was a whirlwind of a man, his energy and passion were infectious, and one couldn’t help but feel the effects. Overall, he seemed pretty cheerful too, which John felt the ripple effects from. John knew he wasn’t the happiest person, so it was nice to be in the company of one. It was like being on a date with a talkative Labrador.
The check came, which they grappled over, John eventually conceding. (“I asked you out,” Alex said in a final sort of voice. “Next time, you can pay.” And John’s heart skipped a beat at the promise of next time.)
As they made their way out of the restaurant, John was pleasantly surprised when Alex took his hand, walked in them in the direction of subway as if it were completely natural.
At the head of the stairs, Alex suddenly whipped around and looked at him, mere inches from his face.
“Would it be totally cliche if I just, like, kiss you right here?” Alex said in a rush. “Because I really, really, really want to.”
John, for what was worth, was still somewhat anxious about kissing men in public. But in anonymous city, with people rushing by, there was the cloak of privacy. From the moment he met Alex, he felt like a puppy being dragged around on a leash. Alex had navigated and steered and arranged everything. So John decided instead of answering, to take the reins for just a moment.
No bending was needed as they were practically the same height. John just leaned forward and pressed his lips to Alex’s, open slightly and very soft. Before Alex could react, John took him by the hips and parted his mouth, let his tongue dart in what he hoped was a teasing way. Alex responded beautifully, threw his whole body into the kiss and buried one hand in John’s hair. The kiss went on, until John pulled far enough away to say softly, “Glad to see your mouth is good at things besides just talking.”
He actually felt Alexander shiver against him. “Fuck. My mouth is great at a lot of things, John Laurens. Just you wait.” Alex leaned back in for another kiss, this time rolling his hips against John. Their bodies connecting like electricity sparking across water. Alex’s hands slid from John’s hair to the collar of his shirt so he could pull him impossibly closer. Alex tasted like sake and the salty warmth of the ramen broth, his mouth so warm against the crisp buzz of the night. When he pulled away, he nuzzled into John’s neck, put his mouth to John’s ear. “My place is just a few stops away.”
This little declaration, the whoosh of Alex’s warm breath in his ear, the smell of his skin had John positively dizzy. The pleasant stirrings of an erection were building in his groin. Alex kissed like he spoke, breathlessly and without regard to consequence. John was most definitely interested if that same style carried over into more… intimate activities.
“You want me?” John said softly, purposefully letting his accent surface.
“You tell me,” Alex whispered, pressed himself to John so he could feel his growing interest, apparent in the firm bulge in the front of his jeans.
John cursed under his breath, kissed the side of Alex’s head.
“Before you say yes, there’s something you need to know.”
John stilled his hand where it was rubbing idle circles on the small of Alex’s back. Of fucking course this whole thing was too good to be true. Asked out by a smart, funny guy, with an actual job, who was cute and a great kisser to boot. He was probably going to confess he was closeted and married with kids or a convicted sex offender or in a cult something equally unsavory.
“Uh, I. Um. I actually have a boyfriend.”
John’s hand dropped to his side and he made a move to step back, but Alex seized him by the front of his shirt.
“No, but it’s ok! We’re in an open relationship, I just, thought it would be sneaky not to tell you. Look, I’ll prove it.”
He whipped out his phone and opened his text messages, brandished the phone in John’s face. Skeptical, John looked at the screen.
Alex: Hey, baby. I gotta hot date tonight, what time you working til?
Laf <3: Closing shift. FML
Laf <3: Who is this hot date?
Alex: Artist I met thru work. We’re grabbing dinner at Kumomato after my mtg
Laf <3: I see. Do you need privacy in the apartment tonight?
Alex: I HOPE SO!!!!!!!!!!
John felt like he might faint.
“So is he gonna be there? Is he gonna wanna watch?”
“Only if you want him to!” Alex said, wiggling his eyebrows.
John blanched.
“I’m totally kidding. He’s not home. We uh, we have an arrangement. We give the other privacy to be intimate with others.”
The shift in his body language must have been tense. “So it’s like a weird sex thing? You guys are in a relationship but just fuck whoever you want?”
“Sort of. But it’s not only that.” Alex looked at him pointedly. “I genuinely have enjoyed our company and would be interested in seeing you again.”
“But you’re taken.”
Alex sighed. “Not to get too in the weeds about it, but like, I’ve had relationships outside of Lafayette. I believe that the human heart is too vast to sustain itself on the love of just one.”
Of course, there was something poetic in this explanation.
“Ok, let me just get this straight. You have a boyfriend.”
“Right.”
“But you’re interested in dating me?”
“Very much.”
“While still with your boyfriend?
“Naturally.”
“But you wanna go home and fool around?”
“Most definitely.”
John felt his mouth turn twist in a small grimace. There was an honesty there that made him feel trusting. Going home with a not-at-all-single man, with the boyfriend’s blessing was a very un-John Laurens thing to do. But he couldn’t deny the magnetic pull Alex had on him, as sure as being swept away by a tidal wave.
“Seriously, um, I’m all yours tonight... if you’re still game.” Alex looked at him with those eyes, big and puppyish. “We can even go to your place, if that would be more… comfortable for you.”
Throat working while John gulped some air. On one hand, this seemed like exactly the sort of thing one should run screaming from. The potential for drama and heartbreak was high, and John did his best to avoid both. On the other, Alex was so soft and warm against him, and the lingering scorch of his kiss like a delicious appetizer foreshadowing the decadent meal ahead. Plus he hadn’t gotten laid in like, three months.
Screw it.
“Ok,” John said for the hundredth time that night. “I’m game.”
***
John had every intention of asking Alex more about his romantic arrangement and getting his bearings, but that went out the window when Alex tucked himself up against his front and went to work sucking a hickey on John’s clavicle.
The walk from the subway stop to John’s building was agonizing. John’s hard dick strained uncomfortably against his jeans. Alex followed him closely, their shared silence comfortable but loaded.
If Alex thought anything of John’s building, which was a converted factory housing several very expensive lofts, he said nothing. John wished momentarily that he lived on a lower floor, but they made the most of the elevator ride by kissing deeply. The moment’s walk to John’s apartment would only be remembered by the ambient sounds--the ding of the elevator, the jingling of his keys, the thump of the door shutting behind them.
“Whoa,” Alex said softly. “Shit, this place is nice.”
“Thanks,” John. He supposed his loft--an open, expansive multi-level modern space done in tasteful neutrals--was nice. He chose it for the neighborhood and the exposed brick, which reminded him of some of the historical houses back home. In some ways, he thought of his space as being very cold. Yet, the moment Alex walked through the door, it felt significantly warmer.
“Fuck, what’s the rent on this place? You sure you need to work with us? Looks like you do pretty well for yourself.”
“C’mere, cutie,” John said, suddenly emboldened. Wrapped his arms around Alex, nuzzled his neck. Perhaps it was the familiarity of his own place. Alex just looked so right in this space, so warm and inviting, and John realized with a start that this was a man he could probably fall in love with.
Fuck.
“Big bed,” Alex noted, his voice playful.
“Wanna closer look?”
Alex smirked, then pulled John to it so they could fall together on the dark gray damask duvet.
They kissed for what felt like hours, fully dressed, their legs tangling. Eventually, Alex’s hand snuck its way between them, rubbed at John between his legs. He moaned at an embarrassing volume. “This ok, baby?” Alex breathed.
“Yes. Oh--” John was cut off from saying more as Alex squeezed him. Then they were kissing again, John bucking ungracefully into Alex’s hand.
“Wanna touch you for real,” Alex said. “Care to get rid of these clothes?”
“God, yes,” John responded. Went to sit up so he could unbutton his own shirt, but Alex batted his hands away.
“Allow me. Wanna see for myself where else you got these freckles.” Alex smirked, his fingers deft as they undid each button. John waited patiently.
Alex pushed his shirt off his shoulders, ran his hands reverently over John’s chest. “Shit. You’re ripped too. Of fucking course.” He pressed the small of John’s back, coaxing him into another kiss. “And these freckles. Fucking gorgeous.” There was a long, quiet pause of Alex just staring up at him, taking him in.
“What?” John asked, suddenly bashful. “What is it?”
“Nothing. You’re just incredible.” He brushed his thumbs over John’s nipples, trailed his fingers down his sides, traced the definition in his abs.
“My turn,” John said softly. Helped Alex squirm out of his shirt. Revealed creamy tan skin. A trim chest dusted with a sparse smattering of dark hair. Pinkish nipples. An invitingly soft tummy which John ran his hand over, kneaded the flesh there. The floor-to-ceiling window to the left of the bed let in the ambient light of the city, and Alex positively glowed under it. Before, John had thought of him as cute, sweet, adorable. But under the spell of light pollution and lust, he was beautiful. A dark, quiet beauty with an undercurrent of hidden power.
Before John could say or do anything of note, Alex knocked him back against the pillows, rained kisses on his abs, went back to gripping him over his jeans.
Alex lifted his head long enough to say “I have a fucking weakness for a man with a six pack,” before returning to his oral worship of John’s stomach. John was content to let him, watched him in fascination, twining his fingers through Alex’s hair. Since initially worrying that the looming shadow of Alex’s boyfriend would force them to rush, John was pleasantly surprised at the leisurely pace they were taking things. Like Alex could focus on whatever parts of him for any amount of time, and was getting extreme pleasure from it.
After covering the expanse of his abs with little licks and kisses, his lips met the waistband of John’s underwear, peeking an inch or so above his jeans. He kissed the boundary where John’s skin met fabric, looking up at John with those huge brown eyes.
“Can I suck you off?” Alex said into his skin.
John exhaled, felt his dick twitch at the mere suggestion.
“I don’t know,” John teased, raising an eyebrow. “I usually don’t do oral on the first date.”
Alex pouted. “If we schedule our second date now, will that count?”
John laughed. “Alright then.”
With lightning speed, Alex was fumbling for his phone, pulling up his calendar, muttering to himself. “Dinner? Friday?”
John already knew he didn’t have plans. “Sure. But I get to pick the place.”
Alex grinned at him. “It’s a date.” He tapped his phone then tossed it to the side. “Can I suck your dick now?”
John smiled back, tussled Alex’s hair. Relished how pretty he looked, his eyes hungry and his mouth so pink and wet. “Absolutely.”
The moan from Alex’s throat was wanton, decadent. In a flurry of movement, he was unzipping and shoving John’s pants and underwear down. John made a small noise as his cock sprung free, which Alex eyed with lust.
“Look at this,” he said all hushed. “Look at your pretty dick. God. Perfect.”
John didn’t have a second to even feel shy because Alex was swirling his tongue around the tip of his dick, in a rather meticulous fashion. It felt incredible, even more so when he closed his lips around the head and sucked obscenely, his tongue still exploring. He popped off long enough to say “You taste sweeter than candy,” before diving back down, this time taking John all the way to the back of his throat. John arched, let out a strangled groan. Without meaning to, he bucked up and tore at Alex’s hair. He didn’t seem to mind, though. If anything, it seemed to encourage him.
Clearly, Alex’s mouth was talented in many ways. He deep throated with ease, sucked with strength. His hand found John’s balls and handled them almost delicately, tugged them in such a way the John’s orgasm halted several times. Wanted to draw it out.
Another pause. “Talk to me?” Alex whispered.
A heartbeat. Dirty talk was not something John had ever… really… done, but he guessed he was willing to give it a shot.
“Feels so good,” he mumbled. Alex’s face lit up, and he took John back into his mouth. John gently scratched at Alex’s scalp, making him hum with pleasure. “You look so pretty right now, sucking my cock.”
Alex peered up at him through his lashes, looking for all the world like some kind of wet dream come true. He pulled off again, rubbed his cheek against the inside of John’s thigh, his hand idly stroking John’s dick, his facial hair raspy on John’s skin.
John reached down so he could cup Alex’s cheek, run his thumb over his bottom lip. Without even skipping a beat, Alex took his thumb into his mouth and sucked. John moaned again.
“You got a condom?” Alex said, kissed the back of John’s hand. “Wanna fuck me, pretty boy?”
If John’s heart was pounding before, now it was millimeters away from exploding right out of his chest. If he thought Alex was going to be a one night stand, he would have been reaching into his nightstand without a moment’s hesitation. But, there was something different here, and call him old fashioned, but John thought it would be best to hold out on… some acts.
Alex must have sensed his sudden discomfort, because he eased up. “I’m also ok with this, baby. I’m not expecting anything. Let me know what you’re thinking.”
“I… I’m not ready for that. Not yet, anyway. Not tonight.”
Alex grinned, kissed the tip of his dick. “No worries, sweetheart. This is more than perfect. Besides, wanna know what your cum tastes like anyway.”
Between that little declaration and the sudden onslaught of Alex’s mouth back on his dick, and John’s eyes rolled back. Any semblance of coherent dirty talk was forgotten as his vocabulary was reduced to curse words and Alex’s name.
“Fuck, Alex, I’m about to come,” he finally said in a choked voice, and Alex just sucked harder. John’s orgasm slammed through his body, and Alex was pulling on his cock, milking out every drop. John lay gasping and sweating. Alex sat up, swallowed visibly. Bent back down to lick away the final drop that had formed at John’s slit.
“Goddamn it, you taste incredible,” he said, his voice sultry.
“Muh,” said John.
“Aww,” Alex goaded. “Did I wear you out?” He shimmied up John’s body, snuggled against him. At some point, he had kicked off his pants, and John could feel his dick, hard and waiting, pressing into his hip.
“Gimme a second,” John finally said. “Good lord.”
“You look so hot when you come,” said Alex, his hand playing absently with John’s cock, now soft and sort of sticky.
“Thanks?” John said, all confused sounding, and they both laughed. Their shared laugh was close enough for them to start kissing, and then Alex was rutting on John’s leg, and John was reaching for him. John could taste himself on Alex’s tongue, and the mere thought of that had his dick taking notice, but he wanted to focus on getting Alex off.
“How’s that?” John stroked Alex, letting him fuck into his hand and matching his strokes. Alex pushed himself to hover above John.
“Fucking amazing.”
“What can I--should I?” John stilled his hand.
“This,” Alex said quickly. “Your fucking hand feels so good. Can I come on you? On your abs? That ok with you?”
Oddly, though it had never been requested of him by a partner before, John thought it sounded kind of sexy. “Yeah. Come all over me, Alex.”
That opened the floodgates. A veritable flood of filth poured from Alex while John stroked him off, his hips stuttering.
“Yeah? Want me to shoot my load all over you? Been thinking about this since you walked into my office, pretty boy. Thinking about you naked, think about you fucking covered in my jizz. Wearing that tight little shirt, couldn’t wait to peel it off, take it all off. Better than I could have even imagined. Can’t wait til you’re ready to fuck me, can’t wait to have your perfect fat cock in my ass.”
He paused long enough to kiss John again, deeply, before starting back in, his hips moving more frantically. “Gonna ride your dick, gonna ride you like a fucking pony.”
John whimpered.
“Like that image? Like the thought of me bouncing on your nice big dick?” And then Alex was groaning, stilling his body. John felt the hot spurt of his cum streaking his skin, and a good bit of it too. Alex collapsed next to John, suddenly quiet. He cuddled under his arm, his demeanor flipping from foul-mouthed sex pot to sleepy and sweet almost instantly.
They lay together, sweaty and panting. “Anyone ever tell you that you got a filthy mouth?” John said conversationally. Alex laughed.
“I always assumed it was part of my charm.”
“Oh, it definitely is. Here, let me... I’ll be right back, gotta clean this up.” He motioned vaguely at the mess on his stomach. Alex nodded, invited himself to shimmy under the covers of John’s bed.
When John returned from the bathroom, now in some boxers and his hair tied up, he couldn’t help but feel his heart stutter at the sight of Alex snoozing in his bed. He looked like he belonged, curled up under the comforter, his hair spilled over the pillow.
“Hey,” John said quietly, sliding into the bed next to him. Alex stirred.
“Mmph?”
“You staying the night? You can, just… you are falling asleep.”
“No, I can’t stay the night. Just a little bit.” And Alex tucked himself against John, made cute little noises.
John allowed himself just a few moments of quiet denial, let himself hold Alex and run his hands through his hair and pretend that something was happening. The chorus of “you just met you just met you just met” played an endless loop in his brain, followed by the nasty punctuation of “he’s taken,” which stung even sharper.
Then, in a sleepy voice, Alex asked him if he had a book he could read over and over again, and which one was it if he did, and then they were talking, an hours’ long ebb and flow of conversation that flitted from topic to topic like dragonflies skimming the surface of a pond.
Just when John was sure Alex was going to fall asleep in his arms, his phone was vibrating loudly. With a yawn, but not much urgency, Alex dragged himself from the bed so he could retrieve his phone from the pocket of his long discarded jeans. He looked even better standing, silhouetted by the light and shadows pouring through the window.
“Hey,” he said, his voice hushed into the phone. “Yeah. Mmhmm. I’ll drop a pin, ok? From midtown? Like maybe 20 minutes. Ok. I’ll see you soon.”
He stretched and turned. Smiled down at John almost sadly.
“Lafayette’s on his way.”
“Your boyfriend?”
“The very one.”
“He picking you up?”
“He’ll meet me a few blocks away. He doesn't like me riding the subway by myself this late at night and he knows I’m too stingy to spring for a cab. He can be a little over protective.”
Unconsciously John felt himself gripping his sheets nervously in his hands. He was getting a very limited peek into Alex’s relationship dynamic, and what he was seeing was slightly daunting.
Alex caught this as he was pulling on his clothes. “Don’t look so grumpy. You’ll see me Friday.” He came over to kiss John. John knew acting even the slightest bit possessive was a huge mistake, especially after hardly knowing Alex, so he resisted the urge to wrap his arms around his waist and cling. Alex kind of chuckled to himself.
“What?”
“Nothing. Just... Lafayette would really like you.”
“Think so?”
“Yeah. I do. He’s got a thing for affectionate pretty boys, especially if they’re kinda shy.” Alex said.
“You think I’m shy?” John asked, surprised.
“I think, John Laurens, that you are a lot of things. And I can’t wait to find out about all of them.” Like he planned it, like they were living some bizarro romantic comedy, his phone buzzed. “My escort is here, it appears.”
John was kind of... not pouting, but quietly resigned, still in the bed. Alex came over and kissed him once on the forehead, once on the mouth. “See you Friday?”
“Can’t wait,” said John.
Alex saw himself out.
Knowing he’d regret it, John still darted to his window.
It only took a minute or so for Alex to appear on the sidewalk, emerging from John’s building. A man waited for him on the corner. They were far enough away that John couldn’t really see the boyfriend, just a basic impression of him. Tall. Black. A lot of hair. Their meeting wasn’t particularly impassioned, just them looping arms and heading towards the subway. John felt an irrational but poignant stab of jealousy before flopping back onto his bed, face down in the pillow. He wasn’t sure if he wished for a better look or no look at all. Either way, he tortured himself with a fantasy of rescuing Alex from a tower where he was held prisoner by a dark man as he drifted off to sleep.