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Alex’s shirt is soft and smells like Old Spice. The sensation of the cotton, smooth against your skin, is welcome and comforting when paired with the quiet snores of the boy on your bed, just through the open ensuite door.
You think you’ll forever be indebted to Denis for introducing you to him. Honestly, he couldn’t have done it sooner; you had been wallowing in the post-breakup blues, your previous relationship having taken a nasty nosedive there at the end, and you were still in the once bitten, twice shy phase. You were horribly morose and wary of relationships, close to doubting the existence of love and entirely doubting that it was something anyone would ever feel for you.
Cue Alex, bumping into you at a block party and spilling beer all down your front, right before Denis awkwardly introduced him as his “best friend and number one cameraman, Alex Kerner.” Yeah, it took one look at Alex’s mortified expression, while he frantically jammed paper towels against the suddenly see-through white cotton of your tank top and whirled his head around to make sure no one had caught your accidental indecency, for you to throw all that bad breakup caution to the wind.
Alex is undoubtedly the sweetest boy you’ve ever met, and just… so fucking beautiful. You peek around the doorframe to find your boyfriend flopped over on his stomach, his hair a golden halo around his head in the morning sunlight, making him look something like a Michelangelo statue. You could stare at him all day like this, with the sun shining on his freckled skin and his face smushed adorably into your pillow, clutching it because you had pushed it into his grip when you slid out of bed. It’s moments like these that remind you of how impossibly in love you are with him.
Not that he knows… you haven’t exactly had that talk with him yet.
Turning with a smile back to the mirror over the sink, you slightly wince at the ache along the muscles of your thighs. That’s another thing; Alex is so deferrant to your every whim, especially when it comes to what you do in bed. The boy is down for anything, or at least, he has been up until this point. Your protesting muscles are a testament to that, but it’s nothing you can’t handle. Nothing that you wouldn’t make worse, given the chance.
Which you think is very likely to be the case this morning, because you hear a soft grunt and then your name croaked out, Alex’s drowsy morning voice turned into an endearing rasp from the way he wore it out during the night. You smack the light switch as you step out of the bathroom with a smile on your face, feeling a giddy sense of butterflies in your stomach under his gaze. “Morning, Sleepy.”
Alex offers you a groggy little grunt, holding out his arm to reach for you with grabby-hands. With a well meaning scoff you plod forward, and climb onto his lap as he rolls over to pull you further onto him. Straddling his waist, you run your hands up the pale expanse of his chest.
Alex admires you for a moment, his eyes wandering over your face until, predictably, they fall to where your nipples are peaked beneath his shirt. While he had been quick to fall asleep after the night’s activities, still naked as the day he was born, you had at least taken the time to pull on his worn-out shirt. A sight which, it seems, he is rather fond of, if the growing bulge beneath the thin sheet over his lap is anything to go by.
“You always look so beautiful in my clothes,” he mutters with a dreamy smile, lifting his hand to cup your breast, gently rubbing his thumb over the hardened bud. Of course, he’s referring in part to the night he met you. He hadn’t been satisfied with his job at dabbing up the mess he made of your white tank top, so he’d insisted you wear his denim jacket for the rest of the night. And then, when you inevitably woke up in his bed the next morning, he’d given you one of his own shirts to wear home. It was an old mustard colored tie-dyed thing that had barely any fiber content left, but still, he had been at least satisfied that “any more beer stains won’t show up on it.”
You sigh, your eyes fluttering shut at the feeling of his thumb playing across your nipple through his shirt now, wet heat already beginning to pool between your legs. “You had quite a night, Mr. Kerner. You think you can handle what else I might do to you?”
Alex gazes sheepishly up at you from beneath his lashes with his doe eyes, the way he knows makes you want to take him to pieces. “What do you want to do to me?”
You hum under your breath, pushing your palm over his chest, up his neck, until you cup his jaw in your hand and stroke your thumb across his cheek. “You’re such a pretty boy, Alex. Makes me want to take a picture of you,” you whisper, staring into his big brown eyes and watching them widen when you begin to roll your hips against his, feeling his erection pressing against you through the light blanket between you. “Something I can keep around when I want to get myself off, hmm?”
Alex whimpers weakly as you squish his cheeks between your fingers, his hands sliding around your waist to grab your ass while you grind down onto him, your wet cunt dragging along the crisp sheets over his lap and giving you just enough sensation to want more.
“Or maybe we could make a movie,” you groan, with a smirk at his surprised squeak as he realizes where you’re going with this. “Do you have any film left in your camera?”
He nods a bit in your grip, his hands squeezing your bare ass. “Little bit.”
“Is that what you want, baby? You want to make a dirty movie with me?”
When he gives you another small nod and whines, you release his jaw and cup your hand against his cheek with a reassuring smile. “You can say no,” you whisper, pausing the movement of your hips against him while he catches his breath.
“I know,” he says, and despite his shaking breath, the grin he gives you makes your heart flip in your chest. “I don’t want to say no.”
Alex’s handheld camcorder is cute, if a bit beaten up from all his running around with Denis, fancying himself an amateur filmmaker. Peeking through the viewfinder to try and get the damn thing recording, you find Alex sitting awkwardly on the bed, looking as though you’re pointing a death ray at him.
You giggle as you crawl up the bed towards him, settling over his lap again. His hands fall easily to your hips, his eyes focused on your fingers fiddling with the buttons on the camera. “Are you nervous?”
“No,” Alex says quickly, but his voice cracks. When you tilt your head at him and tuck a lock of his hair behind his ear, he gives you a short, defeated sigh. “Maybe. I’ve never done this before, and I don’t-” he trails off when you begin dragging a single finger up the line of his stomach, toward the burst of blond hair on his chest. He swallows audibly, his eyes flickering up to yours and back down to your hand. “I’m used to being behind the camera, you know. I just want to be good for you.”
“Oh, honey,” you breathe, leaning forward to kiss him long and hard, holding his face in your hands as you slot your lips against his. Alex eagerly returns the kiss with a passion, his mouth opening almost immediately so that he can taste you, his hands beginning to creep under the hem of his shirt on your back. You break away from the kiss to rest your forehead to his. “Nobody else is going to see this. Just focus on me. Can you do that?”
Alex nods vehemently, before offering you a wobbly, “Yes.”
“Such a good boy, Alex,” you affirm, knowing with a touch of pride how responsive Alex is to your praises, and running your fingers through his wavy hair. He leans into your touch, not unlike a kitten nuzzling into your hand to be pet, and his breath hitches when he hears the little beep of your finger pressing the record button. His eyes flutter open as your hand trails down toward where the blanket just covers his erection.
“Wait,” he mutters, his fingers digging in a bit where they grip your thighs. “You- aren’t you going to take your clothes off?”
“Oh, but I thought you said you like it when I wear your clothes,” you muse with a condescending pout, batting your eyelashes at him as you drag your finger back and forth over his navel, making him shiver. “You didn’t lie to me, did you, baby?”
“No,” he says thickly, as though speaking around a lump in his throat.
“I thought so.” You hook two fingers around the edge of the blanket and pull slowly back, revealing his hard cock to the camera, throbbing and weeping precum onto your sheets. Alex squirms beneath you as you teasingly drag one fingertip up his shaft, drawing a needy whine from his lips. You smirk as you carefully trace a light circle around his tip, collecting a drop of precum before raising your hand to spread it onto his waiting lips.
He gives you a startled moan, his tongue darting out to lick the fluid from his bottom lip as his hands claw along your thighs and try to pull you closer by your hips. “Please-”
“Patience, honey,” you murmur softly at him, letting your fingers trail down his bare chest as you move backward, positioning yourself further down his legs. You grab one of his hands, and push the camcorder into his palm. “Denis called you his best cameraman. You think you can keep the camera steady for me?”
You catch the rosy hue that tints his cheeks as he nods at you, breathing heavily. “I-I’ll try.”
Without any further teasing, you wrap your fingers around his cock and flatten your tongue against the pulsing vein along the bottom of his length. Taking him between your lips to suckle on his head, you hear a garbled groan escape his throat when your tongue traces his slit.
“Shit,” Alex hisses, threatening to drop the camera as he juggles it in his trembling hands. He manages to steady it at the same moment as you take him entirely into your hungry mouth, and a muffled moan vibrates in his chest.
You hum as you draw back and release him with a vulgar slurp, your eyes flickering up to find him clutching the camera desperately with one hand, the other hand clapped over his mouth. You shake your head as you click your tongue at him, pumping his length in your hand languidly. “Don’t hide from me, baby. I love the noises you make.”
Alex moans out immediately, his hand finding the back of your head when you take him fully into your mouth until he brushes your soft palate, and draw back with hollowed cheeks. Alex’s eyes flutter shut, his head rolling back against the pillow. “Oh my god.”
“Eyes on me, Alex,” you order, affording another slow lick along his length as he picks his head up and gazes down at you with heavy lidded eyes. You hum thoughtfully, your eyes flickering from his face to the camera and back. “Tell me what you want.”
“I want- hhuuh-” Alex squeezes the little camcorder so hard that you can hear the plastic casing creak when you run your hand up the inside of his thigh and cup his balls, rolling them in your grip as you flick your tongue over his tip. “I- f-fuck- I want…”
He wordlessly bucks his hips up further, fucking into your face quite suddenly, making you gag and managing to drop the camera in the process. You draw off of him with a laugh, letting him catch his breath as you rest your forehead against his thigh, consumed by a giggling fit.
“This isn’t really sexy, is it?” he mutters dejectedly after a moment.
“Actually, I think you’re extremely sexy. Especially when you get so excited.” You lift your head, an amused smile still on your face, and crawl forward into his lap again. You smile even as you press a kiss to his lips, which turns into a full grin when he finally gives you a little snicker of his own. “You want to fuck me, baby?”
“Please.” Alex abandons the camera on the sheets in order to tug you closer to his chest, his hands creeping under his shirt to splay across your back. “Please, I need you so much. No more teasing.”
“Okay, Alex. I’ll let you fuck me, but only because you asked so sweetly.” You lift the camera from the bed, at the same time as you lift your hips and lean forward to brush your lips to his ear to whisper, “And because we’re running out of film, and I want you to see how beautiful you are when you come inside me.”
His breath hitches as you lift the camera and train the lens on his face, peering down at the viewfinder to see him staring at you with wide, startled eyes.
“Oh, you didn’t think I was just going to set it aside and let you take control, did you?” You smirk as you pick yourself up, hovering your hips over his as you guide him toward your entrance. “I want to make sure I catch every cute little sound and expression you make.”
Alex moans loudly and squeezes his eyes shut as you sink down onto his cock, easing your weight onto him and letting him fill you slowly, as you savor the feeling of him stretching your soft walls. You hold the camera steady even as your eyes threaten to flutter closed, a quiet groan issuing from your lips.
“Fuck, Alex,” you gasp when he tugs you forward by the waist to bury his cock further into you, your hips grinding sharply against his while you try to adjust to how he plunges deeper, striking the spot inside you electric with nerves.
“So good,” he pants out in response, his face scrunching up when you begin to move on top of him. “Shit, I love- love how your pussy feels on me.”
“Yeah?” You give him a breathy laugh before you snap your hips down to meet his again, and his eyes fly open as he lets out a visceral moan at the same time as your own. “Tell me how it feels.”
“Mm, tight,” he whimpers out, and you catch his eyes flickering toward the camera before his cheeks turn red. “A-and warm, fuck, so warm. You’re so perfect.”
His hands slide around your waist to palm your breasts beneath his shirt, his jaw slack and brow screwed up, like he’s in pain. But you know better. And the camera does, too, when it catches the dribble of drool glistening on the corner of his open mouth.
You tut as it spills over his lip, and reach forward to wipe it away with your thumb; the caress of your hand on his cheek urges him to meet your eye once again. “Is my pussy really that good, baby?”
He nods, but to the contrary, he gives you a little whine before saying, “Your tits. I love your tits.” As if to reinforce his words, he squeezes your breasts in his hands, worrying his bottom lip with his teeth like he wants nothing more in the world than to suck and bite at them, but he won’t, unless you tell him to.
“I know you do,” you coo at him finally, reaching up to run a hand through his hair. “But do you love them more than you love me in your clothes?”
Alex falters, his eyes wide as moons as his breath hitches, his hips squirming and bucking to meet yours each time you bring yourself down onto him.
“I said,” you repeat, sharper this time, your hand trailing down from his cheek to hold his jaw, so that you can feel it when he swallows thickly against your palm, “do you love my tits more than you love fucking me in your shirt?”
He flounders for a moment, staring up into you with the revelatory fear of someone witnessing the corporeal form of a god. He can’t choose. It’s written all over his face, in the redness of his cheeks, in the way his nostrils flare and his wide eyes flit nervously across the features of your own face.
“I love you,” he says. It’s rushed, like the words crawled up his throat from his chest and hurled themselves out before you were meant to catch them.
But you do. Fuck, you do.
The cry that leaves you crackles in the air, your fingers trembling as you struggle to maintain your hold on the damned camera, but it’s merely an instinct at this point. You could care less what you manage to film now- the camera seems gauche at best, and horribly intrusive at worst. It topples from your hand finally, falling to the bed again like the relinquishing of a sword at the end of a duel.
You replace the camera in your hand with Alex’s face, stroking your fingers across his cheeks and feeling them burn beneath your fingertips like he has a fever. He nearly jumps out of his skin at the touch, almost as though he expected you to get up and run away screaming.
“I love you,” you tell him earnestly, staring into his eyes and holding yourself over him, trying to convey the truth of your words as well as you can, under the circumstances. “I love you, Alex. I love you.”
You press a kiss to his open mouth, quieting him before he’s able to say anything else. After a pause, he returns the kiss with newfound vigor, his hands squeezing your waist and urging you in your movements, helping you rock upon him now. And your orgasm strikes like a sudden thunderbolt through you, sizzling along your nerves and causing your aching hips to stutter in his grip as he continues to guide you through it, tasting the moans you make on his tongue.
Alex’s hand smacks at the mattress once, twice, before he finds the camcorder and flings it off the bed, where it lands on the floor unceremoniously, discarded and still recording. He grips at your hips before he flips you over, his hand ensuring that your head hits the pillow rather than the headboard, before he begins relentlessly fucking you up towards it.
Alex mouths wet kisses along your jaw, one hand flattened against the headboard while his other glides along your thigh to tug your knee, angling your leg up to wrap around his waist. He sighs at the keening moans that fall from your lips, dropping his head against your shoulder. “I can’t fucking stand it when you call me p-pretty.”
“I know,” you murmur, panting in time with his thrusts, raking your nails down his back. “Are you going to come for me, pretty boy?”
He groans, his teeth finding the fabric on your shoulder and biting down just enough to let you know his answer. You feel him tense before he fills you swiftly, loudly, his cries vibrating along your shoulder and well into your throat as the heat of his release floods your core.
When he finally collapses between your legs, it’s with a quiet whimper, an apologetic noise squeaking in the back of his throat as you wrap your arms around him, like you’ve accidentally squeezed it from his lungs.
“I’m sorry,” he mumbles, his nose stuffed into the crook of your neck.
“What do you have to be sorry for, honey?” you ask him, drawing your hand up his back soothingly.
“I ruined it,” Alex says quietly, and you can feel the way he squeezes his eyes shut against your neck. “I shouldn’t have… That shouldn’t have been how I told you. The first time.”
“You think you ruined it?” You scoff, pulling back a bit to look down at him. Alex peeks up at you from the pillow, looking as bashful as he sounds. “Alex, I don’t care how you say it, or when you say it. Just that you mean it.” You run your fingers through his hair as he raises himself onto his elbows to gaze at you thoughtfully. You stop. “You did mean it though, right?”
“Of course I do. I’ve… wanted to tell you that I love you, for a while.” Alex grins sheepishly, and the huffy little chuckle he gives you goes straight into your chest. “I mean, I do love your tits. And you in my clothes. And fucking you, in my clothes. But I love everything about you. You can’t expect me to choose, when it comes to you.” His eyes flutter shut when your fingers skid against his scalp, running languorously through his wavy hair like it exists only for your comfort. And then, “Wait. You meant it, right?”
You bite back an incredulous bubble of laughter. “Well, I only said it, hmm, three times?” You roll your lip between your teeth as he fixes you with his puppy-dog eyes again, and you smile. “I’ve been in love with you since you tried to clean up that beer you spilled all over me. Any other guy would have just handed me a roll of towels and walked away. But not you. Not my Alex.”
Alex smiles at you meditatively before stretching up to press a chaste kiss to your lips. Then, with all the grace of an orangutan, he throws his torso off the side of the bed and claws his hand towards where he threw the camera to the floor, his feet kicking up awkwardly in the air to balance him out. “Fuck, help me,” he grunts, his hand smacking the bedside table as he tries to straighten up without fully getting out of the bed.
“Oh- oh my god, okay,” you laugh, grabbing onto his waist and ducking around his waving limbs. Camera in hand, Alex flops back between your legs, his back to your chest as he punches the record button to make the camera stop recording.
“Says we used most of the film,” he mutters as he fiddles with the buttons, and the little video screen starts rewinding the video. He snorts as your frantic jostling of the camera is replayed in 2x reverse speed. “Sorry you didn’t get to catch the ending you wanted.”
“Oh, I think I can live with it. At least I can watch you tell me you love me, for the first time, over and over again,” you snicker and kiss the crown of his head just before he presses play.
“I said, do you love my tits more than you love fucking me in your shirt?”
“I love you.”
Alex groans in embarrassment and snaps the viewfinder shut. “Do I always sound so whiny?”
“No, not always.” You drag one finger up his chest, smiling to yourself when his breath hitches as you circle his nipple with your fingernail. “Don’t you remember the first time we had sex?”
“Yeah,” he sighs wistfully, as his nimble fingers punch the eject button and the disc hatch pops open. “Kinda wish we’d recorded that.” He plucks the little disc from the camcorder and leans over sideways, yanking your bedside drawer open before tossing it in on top of a pile of scrunchies and slamming the drawer shut. “Don’t want Denis thinking that’s one of his films, do we?”
“Oh, I dunno,” you giggle, making him glare back at you caustically. “Maybe he’d have done a better job of wrapping up the scene.”
“As long as you don’t call me pretty next time,” he grumbles half-heartedly.
“You love it.”
“I love you.”