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Bunny had whined and complained all week long. And they’d only been in Rome for a week.
Henry had spent money out of his own pocket to bring Bunny here. And they were staying in a fine palazzo, the place had belonged to a countess, for god’s sake! But because it wasn’t a five-star hotel with room service, of course Bunny had to whine and complain. There wasn’t much to complain about, of course, but he would invent reasons. He would take something small and blow it out of proportion. All he did was whinge and gripe; about the dust, about the carpets, about the lack of security. He was convinced someone would break in and kill or steal from them. And then there were his allergies. He kept honking with his inhaler, sniffing and coughing extra hard whenever Henry was around.
If he complained about the living arrangement, he was worse when they went out. When Henry took him to a restaurant that was below 4 stars, he picked at his food and moped all the time. When they went sight-seeing, he grumbled and rolled his eyes at everything. When they passed by an expensive store, he rooted himself in place and insisted they check it out.
His complaints were wearing down Henry’s patience. He seemed determined to make Henry just as miserable as he was. He was constantly talking about how awful everything was. The hotel, the food, the city…. the world .
It was night time, and they had just returned from a day of sightseeing— Henry was in an awful mood. His jaw was set, tight, his teeth gritted and a hardness in his eyes. His fists were clenched. If Bunny cared enough to notice that, he didn’t care enough to shut up.
“Another day, wasted.” Bunny said, as they entered the room.
Henry was silent. As always. He hadn’t said much during the entirety of the week, ever-enduring. He didn’t want to even bother with Bunny. He simply went to his room.
And of course, Bunny followed him.
“Wasn’t the food just horrible?” Bunny said, settling on Henry’s bed and idly pulling at a loose thread from his sleeve. “Just horrible. Didn’t even taste like steak.”
Henry could feel his head heating up, his pulse pounding. He stood in front of the mirror, slowly undoing his tie.
"Yes, terrible." He repeated, quite sarcastic. "Given that you've dined in every single five-star Italian restaurant out there, you’re an expert at discerning that sort of thing."
Bunny ‘s eyes narrowed. He stared up at Henry’s face in the mirror from where he sat, Henry didn’t look at him, he was staring into his own eyes, his mind blank, filled only with white noise. After a moment’s silence, Bunny spoke up.
“Why the hell are you giving me that attitude?”
"Because I'm sick of you." Henry replied. "Everything in this city is terrible. Everything we've done thus far hasn't been worth it. So on and so forth. You’ve no gratitude. For anything."
“Well, what the hell should I be grateful for?! It’s not like you’ve brought me to some heaven on earth!” Bunny stood up angrily. “This fucking place doesn’t even have room service! It’s old! It’s depressing!
"I'm sorry that the palazzo I rented personally isn't good enough for you." Henry's voice was dripping with sarcasm, he couldn't help it. He was so tired of Bunny's bitching .
And now he was in his goddamn room. Why was he here? Why couldn’t Henry have a moment to himself? Bunny’s clinginess had gotten worse since they’d set foot in Rome. Henry had not had a moment's peace. Bunny was attached to him all the time. Even when Henry was bathing, Bunny would stand outside the door and continue talking to him. If it had been up to Bunny, he’d enter and just sit there, watch Henry do everything .
It was unbearable already, and it had only been a week. The realization made Henry want to bash his own head in. Bunny, by default, craved closeness, intimacy, that sort of thing. Henry knew that, and it made sense, when one looked at how Bunny grew up. But this was getting extremely out of hand. He was worse than a child. No matter how much Henry tried to establish some form of distance between them, Bunny would cling on and keep following behind him, talking without end.
“You know, I’m not appreciating that tone you’re taking.” Bunny said snootily.
They rarely fought. And that was because Henry never argued with Bunny. Maybe that was why Bunny had become so expectant of him: expecting him to just be silent and take and take and take whatever Bunny had to dish out. Even now, Henry was quiet. He was so quiet. He was trying to let Bunny tire himself out. But Bunny didn’t seem to be losing energy. But Henry sure as hell was losing his mind.
“You’re just about the lousiest guy I know right now. Who plans a trip like this? It’s cheap. Cheap, I tell you.”
"You are insufferable." Henry hissed, his head pounding. He’d been trying to bite his tongue during Bunny's rambling, but…
He sighed and sat at his desk, beginning to write something.
“Excuse me?” Bunny snapped. He walked up to Henry and snatched the pen out of his hand. “What did you just say?”
Henry's hand curled into a fist, but he resisted the urge to shove Bunny.
“Insufferable. Clingy. Whiny. Spoiled brat."
“What the fuck?” Bunny boomed, he threw the pen aside. “You fucking—”
"Shut up." Henry barked, his voice laced with anger and annoyance. "Everything about this place is terrible. Everything about Italy is terrible. Do you really think anything would be better if we were somewhere else? You would find something to complain about. That's all you ever do."
Bunny blinked in shock as Henry stood up, chair scraping against the floor. There wasn’t much of a height difference between them— Henry was only a couple inches taller— but in that moment there, he seemed to be looming over Bunny. And though Bun did not want to show the fear he was most definitely feeling, he couldn’t help but take a step back– which was very satisfying for Henry.
"You need to stop complaining so much," Henry told him, "you need to stop crying about everything. It's ruining the entire trip. I didn't pay all this money for you to just complain about everything."
Bunny stepped back as Henry kept walking closer, till he had backed himself into a wall.
“Well, what did you pay this money for, then? For compliments?” Bunny sneered, trying to act tough. “Then maybe you shouldn't have pinched to save a few pennies and instead should have gone all out. Because this isn’t impressive enough for compliments.”
"Not impressive enough?" Henry strained, taking a step even closer, "Don't you dare talk about Rome being unimpressive. This is the cradle of civilization. A city full of history and culture. Do you even realize where you are right now?"
Bunny rolled his eyes.
“Yeah, I’m in a shitty fucking palazzo. It’s not a five-star hotel.”
"This place is worth more than you'll ever be.”
Bunny’s jaw dropped. And then his lip curled in anger.
“Fuck you, man.”
"What did you just say to me?" Henry had had it. Bunny's bitching for this whole past week had drained him, it was so much and so incessant and Henry just couldn't do it anymore. He wasn't even thinking, really, he was just so tired from fighting to keep silent.
"Say it again. What did you say to me?"
“I said,” Bunny raised his voice and shoved Henry. “ Fuck ! You !”
The shove was not only unnecessary, it was also ineffective. Henry was not pushed away in the slightest, but he was shocked, and then angry, at the audacity. His eyes widened and for a brief moment he didn't react. And then, he grabbed Bunny by the collar and pushed him up against the wall. He couldn't help it, he was seeing red. He wanted to take out all the anger and irritation that had been slowly building up.
This was a bad idea. This was a very bad idea.
“Oof!” Bunny was not expecting that.
They had never really gotten physical before. Ever. But then again, none of their arguments had ever been this heated. Something else was underlying this aggression. And most of it, really, had to do with Bunny’s behavior overtime.
“Get off me! What do you think you’re doing?!” Bunny squirmed and pushed against Henry.
"I'm putting you in your place." Henry answered darkly.
“Henry?” Bunny seemed confused, perhaps a little scared. He stopped struggling for a moment. “What the hell? Snap out of it!”
"Shut up, Bunny." Henry cautioned, his grip tightening on Bunny. His tone was dark and cold, a side that Bunny had never seen before. He was furious, so furious. Bunny began squirming and wriggling again, grunting as he tried to jump free out of Henry’s hold.
Henry didn't let him go, and he wasn’t just going to let him go so easily. His grip was firm. He just stared at Bunny with a hard, piercing gaze, a mixture of rage and resentment and disgust. And that really was the most expressive Bunny had seen him. It looked so unnatural, so removed from Henry’s normal look that Bunny’s instincts couldn’t help it. His hand automatically flew out and……
His palm covered half of Henry’s face, as if he was trying to not look at it or hide it.
It produced an immediate reaction– Henry slapped Bunny's hand away and looked down at him, more confused than angry. And that was when he realized. This was the first time he had ever shown Bunny the anger that he was capable of, and the frustration that Bunny caused him. And that realization hit him like a wave. It wasn’t supposed to be like this, ever. Henry’s hold around Bunny remained firm but he got less aggressive. Even when Bunny was acting this way, this was not how Henry wanted to be seen.
Meanwhile, as Henry grappled with his own anger, Bunny was looking up at him, his blue eyes wide and the aggression wiped from them, instead replaced by a curious fear, and Henry hated the way Bunny was watching him. Like a wounded animal. He didn't like the fear on his face. Why was he looking at him like that? As though Henry were a threat?
It was a task, surely, but eventually Henry took a deep breath and let go of Bunny, scott-free. He stepped away and turned from the other boy, ashamed that he’d been so…expressive. That’s not who he was supposed to be. He was better than that- he was better than everyone. For him to show such human weakness…..
That was why he could not stand Bunny.
Sure, it was partially because Bunny was an insufferable, spoiled, manbaby brat. But it was those things he did, the things he said, the way he made Henry feel; he made him too human.
Bunny collected himself after a few moments, inhaling, and then he quietly ghosted past Henry, leaving his room and going to his own, the door closing with a soft click.
Henry stood there, watching the empty space where Bunny had been.
He felt like a monster.
The next morning, Henry was joined by Bunny out on the terrace for breakfast. The chambermaid came in to check if they needed anything, and then she left after grumbling a bit and giving Bunny the stink-eye; she was rather cross with Bunny, who had, just moments ago, accidentally insulted her instead of ordering whatever he’d wanted. Henry had been asleep then. He had awoken to the sounds of the chambermaid chewing Bunny out. Calming her down had been a whole process.
When Henry had left his room, Bunny had been yelling, “What? What’d I say?”
He had, as Henry would discover upon talking to the woman, basically called her a childless wretch.
Now the two men were sitting out on the terrace, and Bunny was staring out into the distance, eyes crinkled under the light of the morning sun.
It was quite obvious (and expected) that he was thinking about last night. It was very telling when his eyes wouldn’t go to Henry. And Henry was very much aware of that.
It was beginning to irk him, actually.
“Bunny,” Henry sighed after a very long and enjoyable moment of quiet. "You know, we all….snap every once in a while. And I am quite sorry for getting so angry. I have no idea why I lashed out like that. I just got so angry with you for complaining and I--"
“It’s okay.” Bunny said with a shrug, still looking away as he sipped his juice. “It happens.”
Henry stared at him, a feeling of uneasiness washing over him. "Well, I’m still apologizing," he said in a low voice, looking back to his breakfast. "You know I'm not like that."
Bunny shrugged.
Henry was, in fact, also hoping to get an apology. He had apologized for his wrongdoing. Now it was Bunny’s turn. Bunny should apologize. Bunny should acknowledge how wrong and entitled his behavior had been. But Bunny did not apologize, though he seemed pleased enough that Henry had owned up to his fault.
“It’s okay. We’re good.” Bunny nodded, eating his toast with a loud crunch.
And suddenly, Henry felt very tired.
After breakfast, Henry got into the bathroom to have a bath.
He had gotten these new salts that apparently were good for relaxation– something he desperately needed– so he let the bathtub fill with hot water and added the salts to it. He wanted to spend at least an hour there, nevermind the pruning, he just wanted to be away from Bunny.
However, unsurprisingly, Bunny was outside the door. Talking about this store he’d seen on the street, from the terrace, that he wanted to visit.
Henry was sitting in the bathtub, trying to relax. His mind was still trying to wrestle with what happened the night before. He didn’t want to think about Bunny right now, but that was virtually impossible with him standing outside, yapping his head off. He went from talking about the shop, which led him to the topic of men’s suits, which led him to the topic of how he needed new clothes, which led him…..
Henry’s eyes flew open.
He’d had enough.
The sound of Bunny's voice made him feel sick. Why wasn't he stopping?
He couldn't very well tell Bunny to shut up again. That certainly would not make things better.
So, without thinking much, Henry stood up– the water bobbed and tumbled around him, dripping down his form as he stepped out and grabbed his robe, wore it, and marched to the door. He pulled the door open suddenly and Bunny, who’d been leaning against it, fell in. Henry was the only thing that stopped Bunny from face-planting to the floor.
Shocked, Bunny straightened up and fixed his glasses.
“Well hello there.”
"What?" Henry snapped.
This morning was taking a toll on his already tense nerves.
“What?” Bunny asked. And he promptly entered the bathroom.
Henry blinked after him. Bunny did the most outlandish things so casually that Henry began questioning his own sanity. Maybe he was the crazy one. Maybe he didn’t know how things were, what the norms were.
Henry stood perfectly still as Bunny walked in and stood in front of him, just staring at him for a long moment, his blue eyes searching Henry’s face.
“What?” Bunny asked again, confused by Henry’s confusion. His head tilted, like a curious animal.
"Why did you come into the bathroom?"
“Well, why did you open the door?”
If you didn’t want me to come in, Bunny had meant . They were now communicating entirely in questions, a game Bunny very much enjoyed.
Henry felt a rush of blood to his face. He was so embarrassed, he couldn’t even look at Bunny.
I didn't mean you to come in, Henry’s thoughts were screaming.
“So, as I was saying, about that boutique,” Bunny continued, walking deeper inside and settling on the narrow space extending between the bathtub and the wall. Then he paused and looked up at Henry.
“Well. You can continue your bath, old man. Don’t let me keep you.”
Henry's body tensed. Bunny was so unbothered and relaxed, like he had every right to be in here while Henry was bathing !
"Just get out." Henry snapped.
“What? But you opened the door-“
"Get out." Henry said, with more force this time.
Bunny blinked at him.
“But then why did you—“
Henry felt like he was going to explode.
"I didn't tell you you could come in. I wasn't inviting you in. Just get. out ."
Bunny seemed very irritated. He got up.
“Well, why in the world would you open the door then?!” He insisted, but at least he was leaving. Even if it was like a storm.
Henry shut the door immediately after Bunny left, and then he stood there for a good few minutes, processing the absurdity of it all before slowly returning to the bathtub. Before he got back in, though, he made doubly sure that the door was locked . Yes, this had been another awkward moment (though not as infuriating as interactions with Bunny tended to be as of late), but Henry was sure he’d at least get a few moments of peace now. He sighed and closed his eyes, head resting against the edge of the tub.
Bunny could be heard outside; grumbling and slamming things.
When Henry got out of the bathroom, Bunny was in his room, having calmed down. He was splayed across his bed, on his tummy, reading something. His door had been left ajar.
Things were a mess in the main room, as though Bunny had been barging around and taking his anger out on the inanimate objects around the lounge. Henry looked around, blank, and then he glanced back up at Bunny’s door. For some indiscernible reason, he felt himself drawn to the room.
He paused outside Bunny’s bedroom door, feeling the tension mount again.
What in the world was he doing?
He knew better than to engage with Bunny again– he wasn’t going to enter. Instead, he just stood outside and watched him.
Bunny was looking through a catalog. It was one of those tourist things. Bunny wasn’t a big reader so he never read anything that wasn’t accompanied by large and colorful pictures.
Damn child.
Henry felt his frustration boiling over again. The boy was an idiot. And he knew that he really should stop getting so angry with him. Like there, in that moment, he was feeling irritated for no reason.
Just let him look at his damn pictures. That's all he was doing.
Nothing worth Henry getting so angry. But that didn't stop the anger from building inside him, because he’d seen that pamphlet before, one that featured various luxury hotels from all over the world.
He knew exactly what Bunny was going to ask him in a moment, and he didn’t know if he had enough self-restraint left in him to not do something drastic when that happened.
Just as Henry had decided to retire to his own room for the day (they didn’t have any outing planned then), Bunny turned around and spotted Henry standing outside his door, watching him through the slit created by the door left ajar. He turned and propped himself on his elbow.
“What are you doing there, old boy?”
The nerve of this boy. Not a lick of remorse in him.
"Just watching what you're doing." Henry said tightly.
“You can come in, you know,” Bunny said pointedly, “ Some of us aren’t so dramatic about that.” He was clearly referencing the bathroom situation.
"I'll pass," said Henry.
He couldn't believe Bunny was trying to make him feel like the one throwing a tantrum.
“Seriously, come in or something. I feel like I’m being voyeur-ed.”
"Then close the door," Henry retorted. "Why do you even keep it open?"
“For aeration.” Bunny returned to the catalog.
"God, you are ridiculous."
Bunny paused, and then he sat up and turned to Henry, legs folded, “Why did you open the door, anyway?”
Why was Bunny still on this issue?
"Just get over it." Henry snarled.
And Bunny did, quite readily. He had only touched back on the bathroom moment to…well, Henry couldn’t think of a good reason Bunny would bring that up other than to irritate him.
“Anyway, are we going to that boutique?”
Henry wanted to slam his head into the wall.
"What boutique?"
“The one I spoke to you about.” Bunny’s tone turned bitter. “When you were bathing?”
Henry felt a headache coming on. He hoped and prayed with all his might that he wouldn’t get a migraine, but the possibility that he might was very strong. So he just said, "I’ll see."
Which most likely meant ‘not today’. And maybe Bunny knew that, because the next thing he said was,
“But I want to go.”
Henry didn't want to deal with his incessant neediness. He was always needing him to do something. Henry just wanted a day and night by himself and this damn boy wouldn't leave him alone.
And there was never any room to argue with Bunny, because if there was one thing he loved to do, it was to run his mouth.
"Fine." Henry conceded.
“And can we shift to this hotel? Look. It’s just nearby and it’s got its own pool!” He waved the catalog in Henry's face.
And that was the thing with Bunny. If Henry surrendered to him, instead of feeling like he’d pushed the man past his limits, he would feel like now was his chance to get even more things out of him. His desires were impossible to fulfill, to placate. His hunger and greed knew no bounds. None.
"That place is ridiculously expensive.”
“So?” Bunny asked simply, shifting on the mattress.
"So?" Henry was incredulous. The boy's entitlement was staggering.
"So, no, Bunny.”
Despite the defeat in his voice, there was still a hardness to it that told Bunny to back the hell off. This was a dead-end topic, and even if Henry could magically afford the most expensive thing Bunny’s greedy little mind could think of, now he just wouldn’t. Out of spite.
Bunny huffed and laid back down.
“Tell me when we’re leaving for the store.”
Henry rolled his eyes and turned to leave,
“We’ll leave in thirty minutes.”
They’d gone out, then, and though they hadn’t planned to, they ended up walking around town. They decided to visit the store Bunny wanted to visit once they returned.
At the store, Henry’s patience was tested once again.
He bought Bunny two Italian suits and they’d cost him another fortune. But as long as Bunny was happy, right? (Wrong.). But now that Bunny was happy (and this would not last long, Henry knew), his glee turned him even more talkative, and it meant he was fantasizing about getting even more things. When they returned to the palazzo, Bunny was buzzing with energy. On the other hand was Henry, utterly miserable and sapped of his energy and of his will to live.
He wasn't at all prepared for a chatty, excited Bunny when they got home. Henry just wanted to rest. He wanted to eat some dinner and maybe read some Homer. He was exhausted. He didn't want to spend time chit-chatting with Bunny, so he went to his room and bothered only with his coat– dropping it blindly into the seat beside his bed, and then he laid down with a groan.
In not even an instant, Bunny was beside him, excitedly yapping away, not even pausing for a damn breath.
Henry of course couldn't even sleep because Bunny was now in his ear, yapping a mile a minute.
He tried to ignore him, closing his eyes and turning his head away.
Bunny was, contrary to Henry’s understanding, also a little tired. Neither of them were fatigued just yet, but they were both tired. And Bunny’s talking was beginning to exhaust even himself (thank god!). As Bunny’s chatter slowed down, he rested his head on Henry’s arm.
Henry felt the boy's head, but otherwise he didn't react.
He was just completely done. If Bunny wanted to use him as a pillow, then so be it. He didn’t give a damn.
Bunny fell silent for a moment.
Thank God, thought Henry.
Perhaps the gods were finally feeling bad for Henry, and perhaps they’d decided he’d earned some relief, perhaps they’d taken Bunny’s annoying voice away for a while. But Henry knew better than that. This was Bunny. He was bound to resume his babbling in another moment. Even the gods couldn’t stop him from running that mouth.
And he would be proven correct in just a while.
Henry moved again, to lay on his back (and also it was an attempt to brush Bunny off). But Bunny’s head was now on Henry’s chest, and he was, in fact, climbing Henry a little.
…… what?
Henry looked down.
Bunny was on him. He was lying. On top of Henry. One of his legs was in between Henry’s own, and he was attached more to the side of Henry’s body.
Henry gently moved Bunny's head off of his chest.
His head just moved back into place.
“Henry, do you think the drug cartels are a good way of making money?”
Henry blinked at the ceiling, wondering if he’d heard the question right. Once again, he questioned his own sanity or ability to hear.
“What in God’s name are you talking about?”
“You know, drug cartels.” Bunny mumbled, cheek squished against Henry’s chest.
“My pal Cloke, you know him, was telling me about these guys he knows in New York. They run a tight circle. They make a lot of money.” Bunny was just babbling again, playing with the button on Henry’s shirt.
"No, I don't believe that drug cartels are a good way of making money." Henry repeated bitterly, a mocking element to his tone.
He was fed the hell up. This boy had the attention span of a two-year-old. He should have been exhausted from all the bullshit he had been spewing from his mouth the entire evening, but no . No, no, no, Bunny Corcoran was never tired.
“But it’s quick and it’s easy,” Bunny insisted.
He readjusted with a small grunt, having almost slipped off Henry.
And it's illegal, Henry rolled his eyes.
He was so irritated with Bunny’s lack of general awareness; Henry didn’t want him on top of him, he wasn't interested in discussing this topic. Space. Please. All he needed was some space.
"You do realize that it's illegal, right?"
“Well, your dad does illegal stuff too.” Bunny said without thinking. “It’s how everyone makes money.”
Henry was struck speechless. He didn’t know if he should be offended or surprised or nothing at all– he knew his father’s company was not as pristine and crime-free as it presented itself. And while corporate crime was greatly different from trafficking crime, at the end of the day, crime was crime.
Bunny was much smarter than he seemed. And he had quite a knack for hitting below the belt. Though Henry wasn’t sure if Bunny was trying to be purposefully antagonistic at the moment.
Bunny’s head moved on Henry’s chest. He turned his face the other way. And he clung to Henry a bit more, trying to not slip off him. His little movements were putting a strain on Henry. He really did treat him like a damn plush toy. Henry could feel him trying to get as close as possible.
Bunny sat up a little and put his other leg over Henry’s other one, so now he was straddling him.
“So illegality isn’t an issue, really. Is it?”
Henry's eyes snapped open as Bunny straddled him, all sleep and fatigue flying out of them.
Not that he was bothered, of course. He didn’t mind Bunny’s body pressed against him.
…….
No… wait, no, of course he did mind it. He very much minded it. He was very not okay with this.
…….
Goddamn it all.
“I mean, are we concerned about morality? Are we really?” Bunny pressed on quietly, his voice soft, his eyes glinting strangely in the moonlight.
Were they still talking about cartels and crime?
Henry’s brows furrowed. Bunny was really doing a number on his brain this evening.
"If we're talking in terms of morality, then of course drug cartels are not morally sound."
Bunny leaned over Henry, “But do we care if it’s moral or not?”
Something strange was happening. Henry couldn’t really fathom it– his mind felt so twisted and stretched around whatever was going on…it was not in its capacity, it seemed, to really register what the hell was happening. This was a side of Bunny he had never seen before. And even more crazily enough, it wasn’t entirely unwelcome.
“Well, do you care?” Henry asked, his voice sharp… and not entirely platonic.
He knew he himself didn’t particularly care about morality.
“If I have to be honest,” Bunny mumbled, lips hovering too close. “Not really. Do you?"
He could feel Bunny's breath on his skin.
It didn’t make sense to him– why did he feel so damn relaxed, despite having one of the most awkward conversations he’d had in a while? And the more Henry tried to make sense of it, the more he realized he couldn’t. He kept getting distracted. Bunny’s eyes were boring into his, and somehow they were silencing every single thought.
“That caution about sin, do you have it?” Bunny asked.
What are we getting at here, really?
"Not particularly." Henry mumbled, his voice distant, as if he was very far away.
“Then what are you waiting for?”
Oh, they definitely were not still talking about crime.
Henry's breath caught in his throat. Bunny was insane. This was insane. The world was insane.
But what was he waiting for?
He had no damn clue.
“What am I waiting for?”
Henry's heart thumped in his chest.
“Yes, what?”
“I…” Henry couldn’t finish his sentence. Bunny was too close, too tempting.
He was just as much of a tease as he was a pest.
Bunny’s lips were trembling with want, and the frustration that came with it— he was ready. He was being bold despite his own inhibitions. He went all this way— if Henry hesitated now…
Thankfully, he didn’t. Henry finally reached up to pull him down.
He had been resisting him for too long, anyway. It was time.
Bunny moaned softly as Henry’s lips crashed up into his own. He made a sweet sound. Henry’s lips pushed back against Bunny’s with an almost desperate intensity. It was soft– softer than it should have been. Their faces pressed into each other.
Bunny was still straddling Henry, and he moved his hips— he didn’t know how to, at least not consciously. But his body seemed to know what to do just fine. Henry could feel Bunny moving against him, and before he could stop himself, his body responded. He pressed up against Bunny, grinding against him, and it felt so damn…. good.
Bunny’s mouth fell open in a sharp gasp as Henry grinded his hips upward. A guttural whine was ripped out of his throat, his back arched a little and his head leaned back.
Henry was losing all control as he pushed himself into Bunny as tightly as he could. And the sound of Bunny's groan did something very unexpected to Henry. It caused a sound to come from him as well. A sound as raw as Bunny's, as uncontrolled as Bunny's. Something very foreign to the cold exterior he usually projected.
"Gods…." He moaned.
Bunny said Henry’s name.
Henry's whole body was trembling now. His body could not move any further into Bunny's. When Bunny said his name, he froze. He didn't know what to do. His mind was a scramble of emotions and thoughts, and he realized what was happening and he thought of putting an end to it all–
But then Bunny moaned again, and the sound sent a jolt of electricity rushing through his body.
He knew he liked the sound of it too much to want to stop now.
Henry’s arms wrapped tightly around Bunny, holding him close as their bodies writhed and grinded together. Henry’s breathing became faster and more labored as he pushed himself as deeply into Bunny as he could, and Bunny’s quiet gasps and heavy breathing matched his. It was very obvious in that moment what role each of them would be playing in this moment, and those to come.
Henry squeezed Bunny tighter. Bunny made sounds from the back of his throat, right next to Henry’s ear. They sent shivers down Henry's spine, through his body and right down to the tips of his fingers and toes. Henry felt, just then, something drop in the pit of his stomach. And it was very uncomfortable, but it felt pleasurable at the same time.
As their bodies rocked and rubbed against one another, there was some confusion, some struggle to get it just right. It felt clumsy, so Bunny sat up a little to try and grind against Henry’s hips better.
When Bunny did that, Henry's eyes went wide. It worked. They’d aligned perfectly, and now the movement, the friction, the heat– it was perfect. It was heaven. Bunny threw his head back and they went at it. In a blur of heat and lust and sweat and passion, their bodies were stripped of all fabric, and their lips were once again melting together.
Their bodies moved and responded to each other instantly, as they kissed in a fever.
The sensation of being this close was dizzying.
Henry could feel the heat coursing through him, burning him up. His heart pounded wildly in his chest, thudding and beating, and he could feel Bunny’s pulse too.
They remained in that bubble for a while, and then Bunny reached behind and slowly took Henry in his hand– it was so odd for both of them. Bunny’s touch was electric at first, and then quite warm. Henry shivered. They both braced for what came next, and , honestly, Bunny’s initiative really quite shocked Henry, as he rather bravely did the next few steps all on his own. Slow and cautious, he pushed his hips down, panting and groaning with every little slip inside, lips pursed, expression the most focused Henry had ever seen him. He brought his hand back up and then their hands were tightly clasped, resting on the pillow on either side of Henry’s head.
Henry’s mouth hung open in a small o as he felt himself penetrate Bunny. It was a gentle moment of cautious movement, both of them still, glancing down, sometimes catching each other’s gazes as they hissed and groaned till they had become one.
Bunny steadied himself a little, panting with effort— effort Henry had never really seen Bunny put anywhere else. So he was good for something other than just complaining and whining and spending ridiculous amounts of money. Surprising.
Then Bunny began moving, and Henry almost lost all self control. It took all his willpower to not tear into the boy and just take him, take from him and make up for everything—
Henry held himself back, letting Bunny ease himself into it. And then Bunny moved his hips, and it started to feel good. Better than it should’ve.
Henry’s mouth was open, he inhaled sharply, as he felt himself slip slowly inside Bunny. They both were getting lost in the motions of it all. Every time he thought he had found the best feeling, the feeling that sent a shiver of pleasure through his body, their movements would change slightly… and that feeling would get even more intense. It felt almost as if they had truly become one whole and Henry had to force himself back.
It was a losing battle.
Bunny’s sounds were enough to drive him completely insane. How tight Bunny felt against him was enough to drive him insane. And his movements, in perfect rhythm with Henry…..
Bunny’s panting got louder and heavier. He was saying incoherent things, his sentences short but dragging, falling off his lips, nonsense words and phrases. The only coherent thing he said was Henry’s name— and how he said it. Henry couldn’t believe his ears. He couldn’t believe Bunny could ever sound so…..
It was like he was praying. Henry’s name on his lips was holy. Divine.
When Bunny said it, Henry felt something inside him begin to bloom.
This was no mere pleasure that he was feeling. This was something very different. Very different.
Bunny was praying to him like he was a god and that was enough to send Henry over the edge. The sensation of his name coming from Bunny’s throat— even if it sounded different than it usually did— it sent ripples of pleasure through Henry's body. And he knew it was not going to be long now. His body was growing too sensitive. He could feel it coming, growing closer every moment. And Bunny did too.
The blond collapsed on Henry as the passion got more and more intense. But he was still moving his hips, Henry’s name was still on his lips, and he was begging– what for, even he himself did not know. His hips moved, Henry’s hips moved, and then they were both thrust into a moment of pure, unbridled ecstasy.
Everything paused.
The pleasure bloomed and burst.
And then they melted together— rigidness turning to softness. Muscles taut, then relaxing. Soft sighs and whispers of sweet nothings.
Henry's breathing slowed, and he shuddered as the ecstasy passed.
He held Bunny carefully.
He couldn't move.
"Dear God."
Bunny kissed the corner of Henry’s mouth lazily.
“That was something, wasn’t it,” he chuckled.
Henry could not say much. He didn’t really know how to react, whether he should laugh like Bunny was, or shove him off and say goodnight. He was stumped. How could they go from what they were, to what they’d just become? How could it be that just that small movement of Bunny's lips on his mouth sent a jolt of pleasure through his entire body when just an hour or so ago, Henry had wanted to choke him out?
"That… was…. something ." Was all he could manage.
“Dear lord.” He said again.
Bunny collapsed into a fit of giggles as he rolled off Henry.
“You’re such a geezer. Who says that?”
Henry tried to laugh too, but it came out as more of a wheeze.
"Shut up." Henry groaned but his attempt to be stern was ruined by a few small laughs.
Bunny laughed too. And then he fell silent.
He thought about what he’d just done. And there was a strange feeling. He couldn’t pinpoint it— he wished they could be like that forever. But he also wished he didn’t love his best friend. He loved him. He loved him. He loved him .
He tried to shut his mind off.
Henry was not unaware of the silence that had descended upon them. He knew Bunny’s playful behavior now was just an attempt to brush off or dismiss the heavier realization of what they’d just done. Perhaps what they’d been building up to for months. Or even years. It was undeniable that for as long as they’d known one another, something strange had underlied all their interactions. Something both of them ran from, albeit for very different reasons.
But to be honest with not only each other but also their own selves– what more could men want?
"Do you regret it." Henry asked, staring up at the ceiling.
Bunny was quiet for a while.
“I guess I’ll know that in the morning.”
And if Bunny did regret it, neither of them would ever know, especially while they were still in Rome, where they found themselves wrapped up in each other every night or so.