Work Text:
“Fuck.”
Alex scrolls through the Grindr profile he’s just created, scrutinising the photos carefully. There’s a photo of him shirtless, standing on the edge of the dock at the lakehouse. One of him winking and sticking his tongue out, the edge of Nora’s profile where she was licking his cheek barely visible. A selfie during a night out, semi-sheer black shirt open to his sternum, his curls a little damp with sweat and falling into his face. He’s already agonised over which photos to use for an hour, after having a mini-crisis over what to say in his profile. He’d decided on the bare minimum, which is unlike him. But he’s not really making an account for anything except curiosity.
It’s just— Nora has said a few things recently, like she knows something about Alex and assumed he knows it too. Namely, that he might be into guys.
Except he doesn’t know. Because he’s not. The thing with Liam doesn’t fucking count. All bored horny teenagers do that shit with their friends. Nora seemed sceptical when he’d said that to her, but she’s also not a guy, so she wouldn’t know.
So, he’s trying something. To prove Nora wrong. Or right? The odds of Nora being right are not historically in his favour. Fuck.
He’s just going to hit the upload button and do this shit. In a second.
It’s fine.
Alex takes a breath and hits ‘create’. He doesn’t have to do anything just because he has a profile. After staring at his phone for a few seconds, he closes out of the app.
Coffee. He needs a fucking coffee.
He sits back down on his sofa, coffee in hand, picks up his phone again and opens Grindr. He clicks on a profile at random and scrolls through photo after photo of some dude posing with weights at the gym. He’s got a good body. Alex can appreciate that the guy has clearly worked very hard to look like he does. Objectively speaking. But he also looks kind of douchey. Moving back to the top of the page, Alex clicks on the first profile. It’s much more interesting than the gym rat.
The guy – Henry – has sandy blond hair and piercing blue eyes. The selfie he’s used as his profile picture is kind of perfect really; he’s looking straight at the camera, eyes just starting to crinkle at the corners, the hint of a smirk playing around the edges of his soft-looking mouth. He scrolls through Henry’s photos: another selfie that makes it clear that Henry’s cheekbones and jawline are sharp enough to cut glass on, a photo of him on a sailboat, white linen shirt open to reveal the hard lines of his body, laughing with his head tipped back while wearing Ray Bans. Henry in a navy sweater, playing with a beagle. Alex is inexplicably annoyed at how hot he is. People shouldn’t be allowed to be that gorgeous. He scrolls back to the first photo and takes a closer look. Henry has fucking freckles sprinkled across his nose and cheeks and Alex doesn’t know how he feels about that.
A notification pops up. From Henry.
“Fuck!” Alex exclaims as he drops his phone like it’s scalded his hand.
There’s no way a person can tell if you’re looking at their profile on this app. Right? Alex definitely didn’t ‘tap’ his profile or swipe or anything. So why does he have a message from Henry? This can’t be a coincidence. Can it?
He gulps down more coffee. Fuck. Okay. He can do this. It’s just a DM. It’s not like it’s a like or a match or a tap or whatever they call them on this fucking app. He doesn’t even have to reply. This is fine. Alex picks his phone up from the floor and navigates to his inbox. He pauses with his finger hovering over the message. What if it’s a dick pic? He’s not stupid. He did his research and he knows that there are men out there who will just send a photo of their junk to another person without invitation. Henry doesn’t seem like the kind of guy that would just send a dick pic though. He mentions fucking reading as a hobby on his profile like some kind of nerd after all.
Alex opens the message.
Alex stares at the message, wondering if Henry is literally asking him for a hammer or if this is supposed to be some kind of queer code that he doesn’t know. Is Alex supposed to respond and say that he’s ready to be pounded?
Right. Not a euphemism then. A literal hammer. Alex is pretty sure he has one of those somewhere. But who the fuck says things like ‘I haven’t acquired one’ in a DM on Grindr?
It turns out that Henry lives in the same building as Alex, two floors up. Alex agrees to run the hammer over shortly – Henry is his neighbour after all – and closes the app.
After locating the hammer in the junk drawer of his kitchen, Alex wanders back to his bedroom and checks his reflection, wondering if he should change. He’s been home all day, so he’s just wearing a worn NYU t-shirt with basketball shorts and his curls are a bit of a mess. He runs a hand through his hair, trying to tame it a little. Then decides to switch his shorts for jeans. Not that it matters. He’s only dropping the hammer over and it’s not like he’s actually trying to impress Henry. No matter how hot he is.
He puts on the dark jeans that make his ass look great anyway.
Alex takes the stairs to Henry’s apartment, needing to rid himself of the nervous energy that prickles underneath his skin. He doesn’t know why he’s nervous. This is nothing. He’s just being friendly and doing his neighbour a favour. The fact that said neighbour is really fucking hot and they met on Grindr doesn’t have to mean anything.
He inhales and rolls his shoulders, then knocks on the door and waits. The door swings open to reveal Henry.
“Hello Alex,” he says softly. “I can’t thank you enough for this.”
Alex swallows. Face-to-face with Henry, he’s seemingly lost his ability to think because Henry is tall, wearing a sky blue t-shirt that somehow both matches his eyes perfectly and also stretches across his chest and shoulders in a way that is impossible to ignore, and his smiling mouth looks even softer in person than it did in his photos. Alex also wasn’t expecting the velvety, accented voice that curls around his name.
Forcing himself to focus, Alex clears his throat. “Ah, it’s no problem. Here you go.” He extends the hand holding the hammer.
“Thank you.” Henry takes the hammer from him. “Actually, do you have a second? If you don’t mind, I could really do with a second set of hands to hold the shelves while I get the dowels in.”
“Oh, um, sure. I guess.”
“It’s really okay if you don’t have time,” Henry insists. “I can manage.”
“No, no. I don’t mind. Lead the way,” Alex drawls, trying to act like his usual confident self, despite the fact that he is nervous for reasons that he doesn’t quite understand. He’d really like it if he didn’t feel like there was a herd of stampeding elephants jumping on a fucking trampoline in his belly.
Henry steps aside to let Alex in, and somehow he manages to trip over nothing and stumble into the door frame as he walks into the apartment.
Grabbing his arm to steady him, Henry asks, “Are you alright?”
“Fucking stellar,” Alex mutters. Henry’s hand is warm on his bicep, and he squeezes it lightly before letting go, the ghost of his touch lingering on Alex’s skin.
The layout of Henry’s apartment seems almost identical to Alex’s, although it’s much tidier than his own – even with a few open moving boxes still scattered around. Maybe it’s because he’s just moved in; Alex wonders if he’s the kind of person who apologises for the mess, and the mess is like, a water glass left on the counter and a throw blanket that isn’t perfectly folded.
Alex follows Henry down the hallway towards the bedrooms and can’t help but notice the way his jeans hug his thighs and the curve of his ass. In the second bedroom, there’s a desk in one corner by the window, piles of books on the floor along one wall and a stack of wooden panels that Alex assumes are for the bookshelves. There are a few pieces laid out on the floor as well.
“In theory,” Henry starts, “the shelves are supposed to just fit together without the use of any tools other than the Allen key they came with. But the reality is that the whole thing will be much faster and more secure if I can hammer the dowels in.”
Alex nods in response, distracted by the way Henry’s fingers are gripping the handle of the hammer. “Where do you need me?” he eventually manages to ask.
Henry asks him to hold the frame of the shelves so that they stay perpendicular while he screws them together. Alex navigates across the room, squatting down to hold the frame together. He might be imagining things, but he’s pretty sure Henry checks his ass out as he passes him and Alex feels justified in his decision to change into these jeans. Not that he wants anything to happen.
Alex watches Henry as he deftly wields the drill and screws the sides of the shelves together, shifting to hold each side in place for Henry. There’s something about the way that Henry gently taps the hammer against the flat surface to drive the dowels into place before carefully running his long fingers along the edge to check that he didn’t leave any indentations that is mesmerising. Alex tries not to stare and instead looks around the room.
Among the piles of books are a familiar set of clothbound Jane Austen novels – he’d bought them for June one Christmas – and Alex scoffs involuntarily.
“Pardon?” Henry asks, looking up from the shelves. The muscles in his forearm flex as he adjusts his grip on the hammer.
Alex searches the room for something to talk about because for reasons that he does not understand, he is currently head empty, Henry’s hands and forearms only. His eyes land on a framed Return of the Jedi poster leaning against the wall.
“Tell me Jedi isn’t your favourite,” Alex says.
Henry raises a brow and swaps the drill for the hammer. “Jedi is absolutely my favourite film in the trilogy.”
“Are you screwing with me?”
“Clearly not, I’m holding a hammer,” Henry says flatly.
Alex rolls his eyes, but he can’t hold back a grin. “Wow, you’re wrong,” he declares.
With a laugh, Henry puts the hammer down and turns to Alex. “How can I be wrong? It’s a personal truth – Jedi is my favourite Star Wars film.”
Alex tilts his chin up. “It might be a personal truth but it is both wrong and bad.”
“Which do you prefer then?” Henry gestures, indicating that Alex should elaborate.
“Empire,” Alex declares.
“So dark.”
“Like my soul.”
Henry laughs in response and he somehow becomes even more beautiful as he does, his eyes crinkling as he tips his head back, exposing the long line of his neck.
Alex is not okay. This is no longer fine. He isn’t sure why but it just fucking isn’t. He stands.
“I, um. I’ve gotta go.”
“Is everything alright?” Henry asks, concern written across his face.
“Oh yeah,” Alex says breezily. “I just forgot that I had…to do something. Now. So I gotta go.”
Henry looks confused but says, “I’ll walk you out. Thank you for your help.”
Alex waves him off. “It’s fine, I know the way. Layout is the same as my place. Sorry I couldn’t help more.” He stubs his toe on the stack of shelves waiting to be inserted. “Fuck,” he mutters before racing out of the room.
When Henry appears in the doorway to ask about returning Alex’s hammer, he mumbles something over his shoulder about dropping it off whenever he’s done with it and leaves.
In the safety of his own apartment, Alex paces the living room.
Fuck. Henry probably thinks he’s some kind of freak but whatever. This is fine. He doesn’t have to see him ever again.
His mind is racing, filled with images of Henry jumbled with memories of those late nights with Liam, Jake on his college lacrosse team laughing after a game, his RA at college who wore those loose linen shirts and had a great ass. But what does it all mean?
A list. Alex needs a list. He runs a hand through his hair in frustration.
One. Nora thinks he likes guys.
Two. Alex has never been into guys.
Three. Liam.
Fuck. Was Liam into guys? Did he see those late nights as more than just two horny teenagers getting off? They were just friends.
Four. He definitely likes women. Women are fucking hot. And soft. And they smell good.
Five. But Jake from his lacrosse team, the hot RA, Han Solo.
Do other straight guys call other men ‘hot’? Maybe Alex should contact Liam. They haven’t spoken since freshman year though, it might be weird to just call and say, ‘so when we were in high school, did we have a thing? Did I miss that?’ He groans and pulls at his hair.
Six. Henry.
Seven. Henry’s perfect face.
Eight. Henry’s broad shoulders and the way they taper down to his narrow waist.
Nine. Henry’s thighs.
Ten. Henry’s—
Jesus tits.
Okay, so Alex is probably into guys. He joined Grindr for a reason. To test a hypothesis. Theory proven. Conclusion reached. It was Nora’s theory and she’s always fucking right but whatever. This is fine.
In theory. Alex knows that it’s not necessary for him to actually be with a guy for him to be bi, or pan, or … anything. But he fucking really wants to know if the thing with Liam was just a horny teenaged thing. And he can’t stop thinking about how fucking hot Henry is. And his freckles. And his mouth. Specifically, how soft his lips look.
Fuck it. Sometimes you have to jump and hope it’s not a cliff.
Alex races up to Henry’s apartment again, then stands at the door trying to breathe normally after running up two flights of stairs. He’s not entirely sure that the way his heart is racing is due to physical exertion, not when nervous anticipation is fizzing in his veins.
He knocks and waits.
Henry opens the door and when he sees that it’s Alex, a slightly confused expression crosses his face. “Alex?”
“Fuck, you’re hot.” Alex blurts out without thinking. He looks up at Henry into clear blue eyes framed with long pale lashes. He steps closer to Henry. “So, I know you said you’re not looking to fuck tonight. But I’m going to kiss you and if that’s like, not cool, then you should say something.”
Henry doesn’t say anything. It’s possible that he shifts a little closer to Alex.
Alex blinks. And then he leaps.
Rising onto his toes, he glances at Henry’s lips, then further up to his eyes, tilting his chin upwards. There’s no hesitation there as Henry meets his gaze then flicks his eyes down, his tongue darting out to wet his lips before meeting Alex halfway. When he feels Henry’s hand on his hip, he mirrors him, planting a hand on Henry’s waist. Henry’s lips are just as soft as Alex has imagined, lingering against his own, parting slightly before pulling away.
It’s not a long kiss; it’s almost chaste by any measure. But it’s enough to make Alex’s lips tingle with the promise of more.
“Yeah,” Alex exhales, dropping his hand from Henry’s waist as Henry searches his eyes in question. “I’m gonna need to do that again.”
Henry smiles, then pulls Alex towards him into the apartment, closing the door behind them. With the door closed, Alex finds himself with his back against it, Henry’s hand braced on the door beside his head.
This time, when their lips meet, Alex traces the seam of Henry’s lips with his tongue, licking into his mouth when he opens for him. He loves kissing; he could do it forever. There’s something about the way a kiss can say so many different things, or nothing at all, just in the way you press your lips to another person’s lips, in learning the taste of them, in the way they hold you while you kiss that’s enthralling. It can be sweet and casual, or heady and dizzying; it can be languid and sensual or frantic and desperate and everything in between. Alex has had kisses that feel like they could stretch forever and others that are made to feel like they’re just a stop on the way to something more.
Henry though? Henry kisses like he was born to do it, like there’s nothing he wants more than the steady press of their lips and the tangle of their tongues. He kisses like it doesn’t matter if they don’t do anything but this, like all he needs in this moment is to feel Alex’s lips on his, Alex’s hands in his hair, Alex’s body pressed against his. Like all he needs is Alex.
Alex marvels at the way it feels to stretch up to kiss him, to feel the slight rasp of Henry’s stubble against his skin as he leaves a line of wet kisses down Alex’s jaw. He traces the bare skin on Henry’s belly where his shirt has ridden up, feeling the soft dip of his waist and experimentally skating his hand higher up his side.
Henry cups his face, taking control and angling Alex’s head to kiss him harder, deeper, swallowing the noise that Alex makes in the back of his throat when he feels Henry hardening against his hip. It’s enough to turn the embers that were slowly glowing inside him into something more, dancing and flickering as they start to lick at the base of his spine and low in his pelvis.
Without thinking about it, Alex drops his hand and traces the growing bulge in Henry’s jeans with his fingers. He runs them down the length of Henry’s cock, then up again, circling the tip and feeling the way Henry’s breath hitches in his chest as he does. He does it again, using his whole hand and more pressure and Henry pushes his hips into Alex’s hand as he lets out a small groan.
As they pant for breath, Alex looks up at Henry, his blue eyes blown dark and his mouth lush and kiss-swollen. He doesn’t stop moving his hand.
“Is this okay?” Alex murmurs.
Henry drags two fingers down Alex’s chest, bringing them to a stop on his hip. Alex wishes he’d move them lower.
“Quite.” Then, Henry hooks his index finger into the waistband of Alex’s jeans and that tiny touch against his skin is enough to make his dick twitch in anticipation. Alex is in trouble. “I don’t want to be presumptuous, but would you like to move somewhere a little more comfortable than my front door?”
Arching a brow and smirking, Alex says, “Lead the way, sweetheart.”
It’s a short walk to Henry’s bedroom with their fingers intertwined and Alex tries not to trip over his own feet as his mind is a whirring loop of Henry Henry Henry until he finds himself with Henry’s arm snug around his waist pulling him close as he simultaneously kisses the everloving shit out of Alex while also pushing his shirt up.
He pulls away from Henry just long enough to reach behind his head and pull his t-shirt off, tossing it to the side. The way Henry’s eyes darken as he looks at Alex is extremely fucking gratifying. As is the way Henry rushes to pull his own shirt off and—
All of the air rushes out of Alex’s lungs. Henry is too fucking much, with his broad shoulders and narrow waist and the body that looks like its carved from fucking marble; if Alex had any doubts left about whether or not he was actually into men, they’ve been swept away by the sight of Henry shirtless.
“Fuck you’re hot,” Alex says on an exhale.
“And you,” Henry starts, sliding an arm around Alex again, the sensation of his skin against Alex’s bare skin lighting him up from the inside, “are simply gorgeous.”
He slides his hand up Henry’s arm and across his shoulder, then down his chest, feeling the coarse, golden hair underneath his fingers. He tears his eyes off Henry’s chest and looks up at him, winding his other arm around Henry’s neck and crashing their lips together. It’s frantic and more than a little desperate, heat curling up Alex’s spine just from the feel of Henry’s body pressed against his own, the way he cups the back of Alex’s head and the now familiar taste of him as Alex maps his mouth with his tongue.
They part, breathless and a little dizzy with it, the edge of Henry’s bed now pressing against the back of Alex’s knees and he’s hit with the sudden realisation that he’s really fucking doing this. Henry must see something in his expression, even in the dim light from his bedside lamp because he pulls back and asks, “Is everything okay?”
“Yeah, yes. C’mere,” Alex mumbles, pulling Henry back in for another kiss, not wanting him to think that Alex doesn’t want this.
“Alex,” Henry says when they part again, ducking his head to catch Alex’s eye. “I don’t have any expectations about what we do here tonight.”
Alex nods, and despite the fact that he does, in fact, want Henry, he doesn’t actually know what that means at this specific moment.
There’s something about Henry’s open expression that makes him blurt out, “I haven’t done this before, with a guy.” Liam pops into his mind. “Not really,” he clarifies.
“You haven’t done what?”
“Had sex with a man.”
Henry nods. “Okay then. But you’ve had sex before?”
“Of course,” Alex insists.
The corner of Henry’s mouth tugs upwards. “It was a valid question, Alex. It doesn’t bother me though, if you haven’t done this with a man before. We can stop whenever you want. If you just want to keep doing what we’re doing, that’s more than alright too.”
Alex definitely does not want to only kiss Henry while they’re both fully clothed tonight. “And what if I want more?” he asks, jutting his chin out.
“Then you’ll have to tell me what you want,” Henry replies, smirking.
A challenge. Alex fucking loves a challenge. “You should take your jeans off.”
“Is that what you want?” Henry asks, his fingers already at the button on his waistband.
Alex drags his eyes down Henry’s body, letting them linger at his pelvis before making eye contact again. “Fuck yes.”
Henry opens his jeans, sighing at the release of pressure. For a moment, he pauses and Alex is faced with the obscene sight of Henry’s erection straining against his navy briefs, framed by the open fly of his jeans before he slides them off and steps out of them. Henry shirtless, in just the jeans that hugged his thighs, open to reveal how hard he was for Alex was one thing. Henry standing in front of Alex in only his navy boxer briefs, one thumb hooked into the waistband, the defined lines of his thighs now visible has Alex literally weak at the fucking knees. He wills his legs to keep him upright.
“Fuck,” he breathes. His hand twitches at his side, wanting to reach out for Henry.
“Those jeans make your arse look incredible, but would you consider removing them?”
“Would I consider removing them? Who the fuck talks like that,” Alex mutters.
It draws a laugh and a “You’re a menace,” from Henry as Alex starts taking his own jeans off, stumbling a little as he tries to kick off his shoes then get his jeans all the way down his legs without taking his eyes off Henry who’s now palming his cock over his underwear.
“Christ. Just look at you,” Henry says quietly, when Alex finally steps out of his jeans. “What do you want, Alex?”
“You.” He considers the magnitude of what he’s just said, then qualifies it with, “on the bed.”
Alex can feel himself leaking inside his briefs, quite certain that there’s a visible damp patch at the tip of his cock as he watches Henry lay himself out on the bed, blond hair tousled, eyes dark and heavy-lidded as they look back at Alex, his lip caught between his teeth. There’s a pretty flush starting to spread down his chest and his legs are spread slightly.
“Are you going to join me or are you just going to stare?” Henry calls.
He hesitates for just a second; his options are either to lie beside Henry – which is probably what he’s expecting – or, Alex can say fuck it and leap.
Alex walks over to the bed, placing a knee beside Henry’s hip and swinging his other leg over so that he’s kneeling above Henry’s hips.
“This okay?” he smirks, taking in the way Henry’s eyes have widened slightly.
“More than okay,” comes the answer, as Henry runs his hands up Alex’s thighs to his hips and tugs him down.
He settles over Henry’s pelvis, his hard cock against Alex’s ass and as he leans forward to kiss him, he lets out a small groan at the sensation of Henry’s cock against him. Alex braces his hands on either side of Henry’s head as he slides his hands behind him, kneading Alex’s ass.
“Christ, you feel incredible,” Henry murmurs.
Alex rolls his hips and it feels so fucking good that he does it again, and again and again, grinding against Henry while kissing him, teasing the seam of his mouth then slipping his tongue inside when his lips part. He loses himself in it, in the warmth of Henry’s mouth, in Henry’s fingers tangled in his hair, in the slide of their clothed cocks together. That familiar heat spreads through his body; Alex feels it zipping through his veins.
They’re barely doing anything, just making out and grinding like horny teenagers – they’ve still got their underwear on – and yet somehow it feels like everything and not nearly enough all at the same time. Alex can’t explain it, but he wants more.
He whispers as much to Henry after scraping his teeth along his collarbone, mouthing his way up Henry’s neck and sucking at the pulse point under his ear.
“What do you want?” Henry asks him, gasping as Alex sucks a hickey into his neck.
Alex tries to answer him, but Henry’s fingers are pressing firmly into the flesh of his ass, holding Alex firm against him and it feels so good that Alex can’t think of anything else. “Wanna get my mouth on you,” he blurts out, when he remembers how to speak.
Henry makes a noise in the back of his throat, then nods. “I would— I would be agreeable to that.”
Alex rolls his eyes at Henry’s phrasing — who even is he? Who speaks like this? — but then says, “I’ve never done it before.”
Henry stills and carefully shifts his hands from Alex’s ass around down to his thighs, squeezing them gently. “Yes, that would make sense, given what you told me earlier.”
Alex frowns, he doesn’t want Henry to think that just because he’s new at this that he doesn’t want it. Because he really fucking does. “I wanna fucking do it though,” he says as he shifts on the bed, using his knee to nudge Henry’s knees apart and settling between them.
“Alright.”
“Can I?” Alex asks, his hands at the waistband of Henry’s briefs.
“Please.”
Once Alex has slid Henry’s underwear off and he actually looks at him, his mouth waters. Henry is unbelievably sexy with his hair mussed and splayed out over the pillow, arms tucked behind his head, the hard lines of his body just calling out for Alex to touch them. He’s got one leg drawn up, his knee fallen to the side of his body, drawing Alex’s attention to what he hasn’t already seen tonight: Henry’s cock, long and curved, the head flushed deep red and glistening where pre-come is beading at the tip.
Fuck.
Alex licks his lips and slowly glides his hand up the inside of Henry’s thigh, taking note of the way that Henry shivers as he touches him before closing his fingers around the base of Henry’s cock and giving it a long pull. Henry’s eyes flutter closed and he makes a pleased noise as Alex strokes him slowly. While it’s a movement that Alex is well-accustomed to, it’s different from this angle. He twists his wrist, getting used to the weight of Henry’s cock in his hand, paying attention to Henry’s reactions and the way he arches his back when Alex digs his thumb into the slit.
“Have you got a condom?” Alex asks.
“Yeah, just give me sec,” Henry replies and Alex releases him so that he can twist to reach into the drawer on his bedside table, taking a condom out and opening it. He’s about to roll it onto himself when he pauses and looks at Alex. “Do you want to?”
Alex nods and takes the condom because he can’t wait to get his hands back on Henry. He rolls the condom on and then swallows, licking his lips. He settles on his knees between Henry’s legs, holding the base of his cock. He inhales, then says, “Just like, tell me if it’s shit or whatever.”
Before Alex can move, Henry shifts up onto one elbow, reaching down to hook a finger under Alex’s chin. “Alex,” he says, his expression serious, “I’m quite certain that you will be very good at this, if the way you kiss is anything to go by. Just think about what you like and do that. But yes, if you want, I can provide… feedback.”
It’s hard to think clearly, with Henry’s cock in his hand and right in front of his face. But the thought of Henry telling him what he likes sends a thrill down Alex’s spine. “Fuck, yeah, let’s do that.”
“Carry on then,” Henry says mildly, and Alex snorts. “Just remember to breathe through your nose and mind your teeth.”
“No shit,” Alex says flatly.
He bends down and licks a stripe up the underside of Henry’s cock experimentally, ignoring the taste of the latex to focus on the task at hand. He swirls his tongue around the tip and Henry’s breath hitches, so he does it again, tonguing at the sensitive spot beneath the head. Gripping Henry’s cock firmly with his hand, he closes his lips around the crown and sucks lightly. He’s rewarded with a low moan from Henry, so he repeats the movement, taking Henry a little deeper each time he bobs his head.
Henry works his hand into Alex’s hair, petting it lightly as he praises him. Every noise that Henry makes, every time he murmurs yes, right there or that feels so good or Christ, your mouth only emboldens Alex, even as he takes the instructions – a little slower and try using your hand too and don’t forget to breathe – as a personal challenge to make Henry forget how to use words.
When Alex hollows his cheeks and sucks hard while working his tongue against Henry’s cock, he bucks his hips and thrusts into Alex’s mouth, the tip of his cock hitting the back of Alex’s throat and making him pull off and cough.
“So sorry,” Henry apologises, but Alex wipes his mouth on the back of his hand and smirks.
“Why are you fucking apologising? Seems to me like you were having a good time, sweetheart. Just caught me by surprise is all, but you can do that again.”
Henry whimpers a little as his eyes glaze over. “Right, okay then.” Alex strokes his cock and watches the way his mouth goes a little slack at the pressure. It’s incredibly hot to see and hear the effect he has on Henry. He has always liked to make his partners feel good.
“Gonna try that again,” Alex declares. “Ready?”
“I don’t think I was ever ready for you,” Henry murmurs. Then he offers, “it helps if you flatten your tongue and relax your jaw.”
“Good to know,” Alex replies before pressing his hand flat against Henry’s pelvis.
He inhales, then closes his lips around Henry’s cock again, sliding them down his length as he bobs his head and sucks. Alex uses his other hand to play with Henry’s balls as he swallows around the crown, revelling in the sounds Henry makes as he does. Flattening his tongue, he relaxes his throat and slides down further, taking Henry deeper and deeper until he feels his cock at the back of his throat. Alex breathes steadily through his nose, then pulls back before doing it all again, this time swallowing and constricting his throat around Henry’s cock. Henry flexes his fingers in Alex’s hair in response, tightening them and pulling slightly, and the sharp sting of it takes Alex by surprise, making him moan around Henry’s cock. Henry bucks his hips in response but Alex is prepared this time.
Fuck, he didn’t expect to enjoy this so much – the ache in his jaw and the weight of Henry’s cock dragging against his tongue – but there’s something about the way Henry’s seemingly forgotten how to string a sentence together combined with the tiny movements of his hips and the way his fingers tug at Alex’s hair that has Alex feeling like he’s dangerously close to the edge himself. He reaches down, shoving his hand into his own underwear and jerking himself slowly while he continues to take Henry apart with his lips and his tongue. When Henry’s thighs are trembling and he’s babbling, Alex pulls off.
“How’re we doing?” his voice is gravelly and low.
“Fuck, Alex, please. You’re so good,” Henry begs.
Alex swallows him down again without any warning and Henry shouts. It’s not long before Henry is gritting out a warning and Alex can feel the condom fill against his tongue as Henry lets out a breathy laugh above him. He distantly wonders what Henry would taste like. He pulls off and sits back on his heels between Henry’s legs, tucking his briefs behind his balls and jerking himself off with fast, firm strokes.
Henry makes a wounded noise in the back of his throat and Alex looks up at him through his eyelashes.
“Christ,” Henry whispers, sounding awed. “Let me do that, please.”
He pushes himself to sit up and reaches for Alex. Alex moans as Henry takes over, using the steadily leaking precome to slick the way. He watches the way his cock disappears into the tight circle of Henry’s fist, then Henry cups his face with his other hand and claims him, fucking his tongue into his mouth like he’s searching for the taste of himself.
Between the insistent pressure of Henry’s lips as he swallows the noises he draws from him and the slick slide of his hand around Alex’s cock, Alex comes without warning, spilling over Henry’s fist with fire roaring through his veins leaving nothing but white noise in its wake. Henry works him through the aftershocks and never stops kissing him, slowing his kisses down, turning them softer, more languid.
“Oh my god,” Alex breathes, eventually.
Henry smiles at him, then indicates that he’s going to go wash his hands and when he comes back, Alex feels like his brain has finally come back online.
“So, that was…” he raises a brow at Henry in question.
Henry gives him a sidelong glance, then says, “Passable.” But there’s the ghost of a smile on his mouth and his eyes are beginning to crinkle at the corners.
“You asshole. That was stellar and you know it. You couldn’t even make words work,” Alex retorts.
Henry laughs. “There was room for improvement,” he allows. “But that just means we should do it again.”
“You wanna do this again?” Alex asks, a little surprised. He hadn’t even considered a repeat.
“I would, if that’s something you’d like.”
“I mean, it would be convenient. Y’know, because we’re neighbours,” Alex says, assuming that Henry simply wants a fuck buddy because they live in the same fucking building.
An inscrutable expression crosses Henry’s face. “Actually, Alex, I was hoping that you’d let me take you out for dinner first, next time.”
Alex grins. “Are you asking me on a date?”
“I would like to get to know you outside of the bedroom, yes,” Henry replies carefully, sitting beside Alex on the bed but not touching him.
“You fucking nerd.” Alex reaches for Henry, cupping his jaw and kissing him, toppling them over so that they’re lying on the bed.
“Is that a yes?” Henry asks him when they part for breath.
“I’m ready to be fucking wooed, sweetheart. But first, I want you to show me what you meant by ‘room for improvement’.”