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The thing is, even though Alex realized he was bisexual last year, he hasn’t managed to get any practical, hands-on experience with men. Except for the thing with Liam, which he’s pretty sure doesn’t count, though Nora calls him a different synonym for obtuse every time he says that. She’s started having to use other languages. It’s honestly impressive.
It’s just not that easy to meet someone of any gender with all the pressure of law school. And he tried to tell himself that focusing on school and not sex was a good thing, but if he’s honest, he really needs to get laid. If Nora is to be believed, it’s started to affect his mood. She’s started dropping not so subtle hints that if he, in her words, doesn’t get dicked down soon, she’s going to find a new roommate.
She would never, he knows—there’s too much history between them. But he did let her talk him into joining her at her favorite Hell’s Kitchen gay club. Her argument was very compelling; there were charts and everything.
So now he’s here, with the bass rattling his bones, drowning his sorrows in the bottom of a ridiculous cocktail because he’s already struck out twice. He used to be good at this. Maybe Nora was right–spending all of his time holed up in the law library has ruined his game. She disappeared half an hour ago with someone with dark hair and a corset, so he doesn’t expect to see her again tonight.
He’s just about to say fuck it and head home for the night when the music changes. He could’ve sworn this kind of thing only happened in movies, but sure enough, when he turns around, the lights are shining on a man on the dance floor and their eyes meet over the sea of bodies. The man is, of course, probably the hottest man Alex has ever seen in real life. His blond hair is plastered to his forehead and his dress shirt, which would normally seem out of place at a club like this, is deliciously tight and shows off an incredible set of biceps. An image of the man picking Alex up and railing him against the wall floats across Alex’s mind unbidden.
Without giving himself time to second guess his decision, he downs the rest of the cocktail and saunters over to the man.
“Hey!” he shouts over the music. “I’m Alex.”
“Henry,” the other man calls back in the soft rounded sounds of an English accent.
“Come here often?” Alex asks.
Henry laughs–goddamnit even his laugh is hot, Alex notes. “Do you use that line often?”
“Don’t usually need to.” Henry laughs again, and Alex feels the back of his neck heat up. He should have known tonight would be a wash. At least having concrete data should get Nora off of his back. “Look, if you didn’t want to dance, you could’ve just said no.”
Alex turns to leave, but Henry’s hand catches his arm. There’s a crackle of electricity emanating from the place where Henry’s fingers touch. Alex stares at the spot, wondering if Henry feels it too.
"I would quite like to dance with you, actually," Henry says. He's still practically shouting to be heard over the noise of the club, but there's something in the tone of his voice that makes Alex shiver.
"Yeah?" he says, a little more breathlessly than he intends.
Henry settles his hands on Alex's hips, soft fingers brushing across the skin exposed by the crop top Nora bullied him into wearing. Alex hopes his gasp gets buried under the music. Henry has a solid few inches on him, which Alex wants to be irritated about, but it's actually really working for him.
They move together, letting the music flow through them. Alex has danced with a lot of women at clubs, and it's not that different in practice, but the feeling is exhilarating and Alex can't get enough. On instinct, he turns around so his back is against Henry's front and starts grinding back against him. He thinks he hears Henry groan, but it's hard to say.
Fuck, this feels incredible. Henry's fingers are branding the skin over his hip bones and his breath is hot on the back of his neck. He's a bit embarrassed to find his already-tight pants getting tighter as his cock starts to firm up. The embarrassment passes, though, when he feels the beginnings of Henry's own erection pressing against his ass.
Alex turns and drapes his arms over Henry's shoulders. He's so close to Henry now that he can see the faint splash of freckles across the bridge of his nose and breathe in the intoxicating scent of his aftershave and sweat and whatever else makes up Henry (Alex finds himself desperate to find out).
"Christ, but look at you," Henry mutters. He pulls Alex even closer so there's barely an inch of space between them.
"Like what you see?" Alex smirks.
"Don't fish for compliments, darling." Henry slots a thigh between Alex's legs, pressing against his hard cock.
Alex swears under his breath but he can't stop himself from rutting against Henry. It feels fucking incredible. Henry is fully hard now, too, and as far as Alex can tell from the way it's pressing against his hip, he's fucking huge.
Desperate to find out if he's right, Alex is about to suggest they find somewhere a little more private when he feels a familiar heat building in his gut.
"Oh fuck, shit, fuck," he gasps. He tries to step away from Henry but there's too many people around and anyway, it's too late. Before he can do anything, he's coming hard in his pants like a teenager.
"Are you alright?" Henry asks.
"Fuck, I have to go," Alex stammers. Without looking back, he pushes his way through the crowd and out into the night.
“Okay, so tell me again,” Nora says, kicking her foot against his. “You met the hottest guy you’ve ever seen–”
“I didn’t say that!”
“Those were your exact words.” Alex glares at her. “So you danced with him and then you fled like you were being chased by wolves.”
“Okay, I definitely didn’t say that.”
“Obviously I’m embellishing for dramatic effect,” she waves a dismissive hand at him. “So what gives?”
“I just had to leave, okay? Can we stop talking about this?” Alex sighs and heads to the kitchen for another cup of coffee.
“No,” Nora replies decisively. “I think we should go back tonight.”
“What? No! Why?”
“So you can pick up where you left off!”
“Nora!” Alex protests. “No!”
“Alejandro, this is the most promising interaction you’ve had with a real live human since you started law school,” Nora says, poking him in the side. “And for the sake of my sanity, I’m not letting you give up on him.”
Which is how Alex finds himself back at the club, nursing a drink at the bar, half hoping Henry won’t show and half hoping he will. Nora is sitting beside him, pointing at every blond who walks by, asking if he’s the one. Eventually, though, she gets distracted by a girl who looks remarkably like June, which Alex decides not to think about too hard.
Alex has just decided that it’s for the best that Henry didn’t come when he spots him at the other end of the bar. Henry raises his drink in Alex’s direction, but there’s a hesitancy about it.
Fuck. This is going to be awkward.
“Alex,”. Henry says, and goddamnit if the sound of his name in Henry’s accent doesn’t send a lick of fire up his spine. “I can’t say I was expecting to see you here again.”
“Yeah, sorry about that,” Alex replies. “I had something I had to take care of.”
“Is that so.” It isn’t a question and Alex doesn’t quite know how to respond. He can’t be sure that Henry didn’t catch on to what happened last night, but he’s certainly not going to bring it up just in case.
Before he can think of a response, Henry leans down and murmurs directly in Alex’s ear.
“As tremendously gratifying as it was to watch you come in your pants, I was hoping you’d wait long enough for me to get my mouth on you this time.”