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Henry and Alex have been roommates for a few years now, so there’s really not much that they haven’t seen at this point. They’ve seen each other sleepless, crying, drunk, naked, stupid, celebratory, on the verge of insanity, and everything in between.
But when Henry wakes up and goes to the dining table to find Alex shamelessly watching gay porn on his laptop—no headphones—first thing in the morning, he can’t help but freeze in place, speechless at the very view in front of him.
Alex recently came out as bisexual to him, and by recently, Henry means two days ago, so he’s still adjusting to the fact that Alex is apparently attracted to men. Seeing him watching sex between men is not helping him wrap his head around that fact any quicker.
The worst part, though, is that Alex seems intent on watching every little detail of… it, so he doesn’t seem to notice that Henry’s already awake.
Henry, kind as ever, softly clears his throat in an attempt to let Alex perhaps slam his laptop shut, stumble his way out of the living room, and have them both forget about it.
Alex, of course, doesn’t do that.
He instead turns his head at the sound, beaming at Henry with a smile that melts him the same way every bloody time, and says, “Oh, hey, you’re up,” happily, like he’s been waiting for Henry.
Like the sounds of two men fucking aren’t still going on from his laptop.
Henry stammers, trying to find the words, wondering if he should acknowledge it. In the end, he just settles with, “Erm, yes. What— erm, I… Good morning, Alex.”
“Tea’s ready,” Alex says casually before returning his face to the screen. Then he scrubs back five seconds on the player because it seems the seconds he missed talking to Henry are too important to not watch.
Christ.
He gets his tea and decides between taking it to his room or sitting with Alex. He never does the former, always taking the time to talk with Alex as he sips on his tea, so it would definitely irk Alex if he did otherwise.
Well. Alex seems adamant on watching this like doing so is the equivalent of reading the morning paper, so Henry supposes it should be okay to sit across from him. And to acknowledge it.
“So…” Henry says, stirring in the milk and sugar in his tea.
“Hm?” Alex looks up innocently, lowering the volume of his laptop but not pausing it.
“Are we enjoying the… gay porn so early in the morning?” Henry manages, unable to keep the corners of his lips from rising. He hopes his expression comes off more as amused than mocking.
Alex huffs a laugh, glancing once at his laptop, pausing the video, then looking back up at Henry.
“Sorry. Yeah. I should probably stop it while you’re drinking tea,” Alex says with a sheepish smile.
Henry shakes his head. “Any reason you’re watching it like it’s a very comprehensive video essay and not… porn?” Henry teases.
Alex blushes. He closes the laptop and sets it aside, leaning back on his chair, his posture relaxing.
“Research, I guess,” he says, crossing his arms over his chest. He’s dismissive about it, but Henry can sense that he’s a bit embarrassed. “I mean, I kinda wanna know the basics before I get with a guy, you know?”
“Hm. Alright. That’s valid,” Henry says. “You should know porn is very far from reality, though. As I assume is also the case with straight porn and heterosexual intercourse,” he adds, taking a sip of his tea.
“Well, yeah. But I don’t know what other resources I have, so,” Alex shrugs. “It’s fine. Unless you wanna put on a show for me,” he jokes.
Henry almost spits out his Earl Grey.
It’s been a thing with them, recently. Flirting.
They never really did it in their first few years of friendship, even if Alex was naturally flirtatious. But a few months ago Alex unconsciously slipped up and flirted with Henry who flirted right back, and from that point on they (mostly Alex) never hesitated flirting whenever the opportunities presented themselves.
So, naturally, it shouldn’t matter when Henry replies, “Oh. Don’t threaten me with a good time, dear,” smiling to himself as his voice goes low and silky.
Except Alex’s lips part and his Adam’s apple bobs, and—
“Oh…” Alex breathes, his eyes flickering from Henry to the table.
“What?” Henry blurts out, unable to hide his surprise at Alex even considering the notion.
“I— No, nothing. I mean— Nothing, yeah, just—”
“Do you want a show?” Henry says, his voice trailing off, hesitating to even repeat himself. He kind of needs to know what Alex is thinking, though.
Alex blinks, his expression unreadable.
“Alex…” Henry starts, although he doesn’t really know what to follow with.
“Don’t— Sorry, I made this weird, didn’t I? Forget about it, Henry. I didn’t mean— Yeah, just forget about it, okay? Sorry,” Alex says in a bit of a panic.
“I— Alex, it’s okay. There’s nothing to worry about. We’re… good,” Henry reassures him. His worry now completely outweighs the previous tension between them.
“Yeah, no, sorry. I don’t even— Sorry. Yeah. I’ll— go to my room. And— do normal things. Yep. See you later, Henry,” Alex says, fumbling with himself before standing up and leaving.
Henry, meanwhile, is left dumbfounded at their dining table.
“Okay. Hear me out for like two seconds because I just need to get this out.”
Alex ambushes Henry a few hours later while he’s reading at the dining table.
A truly cursed place, this is, he thinks.
Henry hasn’t even put his bookmark in when Alex continues.
“I do want you to put on a show,” Alex says bluntly.
Henry’s eyes practically fall out of their sockets.
“Only if you want to. For me. Like, if you weren’t joking earlier,” Alex adds, his eyes on Henry.
Henry lets the words make rounds in his brain first before processing them.
Alex wants a show.
Alex wants Henry to put on a show for him.
Alex wants to see him naked and doing a lot of other things—and that’s to put it very lightly.
Christ.
He looks at Alex, looking for any trace of doubt or reluctance in his expression. But when their eyes meet, all he sees is strong determination covering a nervousness Alex can’t hide from him and, beneath it all, a soft plea for Henry to allow him this.
Alex wants this.
Alex really wants this.
So, Henry makes a snap decision because he knows this might never happen again.
Gone are the doubts and hesitation. Gone is the fear of the impending destruction of their friendship after this. Gone is Henry’s fucking dignity.
Because, Christ, he wants this, too.
“Alright, then,” he says, pushing himself up from his seat.
Alex’s jaw drops to the floor.
“What?” The pitch of his voice is extremely high, and Henry, honestly, feels the exact same.
He’s committed to this, though. So he trudges on.
“I said, ‘Alright, then.’ So,” Henry swallows. “Are you coming or what?” he asks, tone a lot more commanding than before. Then he walks to his room.
Alex— miraculously following behind.
He locks the door to Henry’s room, looking like he’s in a daze when their eyes meet.
“So, Alex. What are you expecting? What do you want to see from me?”
Alex takes in a breath. He blinks a few times, thinking, then, “What makes you feel good?” he asks shakily.
“I can make most things work,” Henry replies to him simply.
“I—” Alex’s pupils dilate, as if images of Henry doing most things are rushing through his mind. “Okay. Anything, then. I just want to see you—” he cuts himself off.
He swallows, blinking a few times.
“I want to see you,” he repeats, softer now.
Henry raises his eyebrow. He steps forward. He knows there was more to what Alex was about to say.
“You want to see me what?” Henry presses.
Alex tilts his head backwards to maintain eye contact as Henry moves closer. Henry thinks the height difference is doing something for Alex.
Alex swallows again.
“I want to see you cum,” Alex admits, a whisper. “Fuck, Henry. Can I?”
“Hm. That was the point of giving you a show, wasn’t it?” Henry smirks down at him, then he pulls a chair from behind Alex. He pushes down on Alex’s shoulder, making him sit down.
Alright, then. Lights, camera, action, or whatever they say.
“Now,” Henry says, shedding his T-shirt. “Is this only because you want to see a guy get off? Or is it me that you want?” Henry asks, hoping it comes across as some form of dirty talk and not as him actually seeking Alex’s validation.
Alex swallows, eyes roaming around Henry’s upper body before rasping, “You. Fuck, Henry. I want you.”
That’s certainly validating. And very, very arousing.
Heny really hopes it’s true.
“Good. That’s what I like to hear,” Henry smiles, reveling in the way Alex shifts in his seat.
He’ll have to explore that.
“You can talk to me during,” he starts. “Tell me what you want. Tell me what you’re feeling. Beg, if you’re so inclined. I enjoy that,” Henry says, before gracelessly slipping his shorts and underwear down, leaving himself stark naked in front of Alex. He’s half-hard already, but he focuses on giving Alex instructions first. He doesn’t make eye contact when he continues, saying, “You can touch yourself. Feel free. Cum as many times as you want. But you stay there. No coming over to my bed. No touching me.”
He doesn’t really know why he said that. He wants Alex. Wants to touch him, wants to feel him.
But they’re not fucking. Henry’s giving him a show. That’s what they agreed on.
So. Maybe this is Henry sticking to their agreement. Maybe this is his shoddy attempt at self-preservation.
Yes, he wants so much more.
No, he is not letting either of them have that.
“Are we clear, Alex?”
“Yeah,” Alex nods, and when Henry finally looks at him, he finds Alex’s eyes dark and filled with lust.
“Alright,” Henry nods appreciatively. “Repeat them,” he commands, tipping his chin up.
Maybe hearing Alex say them to him will further cement their boundaries.
“What?” Alex says, definitely thrown off.
Henry doesn’t repeat himself, though. He just raises his eyebrow expectantly.
“I— Um, okay, uh,” Alex stumbles. “Anything I want with myself I can do, but you’re off-limits? I can’t come to your bed or touch you or anything,” he says, squirmish.
“Very good,” Henry says instead of remarking on Alex’s uncertainty. It’s really more to test a theory.
When he sees Alex relax into his seat at the praise, his theory seems to be proven true.
“So. How are you feeling?”
Alex seems taken aback by the question, not expecting it. While he’s thinking of a response, Henry takes the time to move to the bed, kneeling and sitting on his feet.
Alex seems to have formulated the words to say, but because Henry is a terrible, terrible person, he spits onto his hand and starts slowly fisting his cock when Alex tries to speak.
“Holy shit,” Alex blurts out. He meets Henry’s eyes then flushes red, blinking rapidly. “Henry, fuck, I—” Alex’s eyes flicker between Henry’s and his hand sliding up and down. “I’m— I want—” Alex stutters, unable to pry his eyes away.
“Yes, Alex? What do you want?” Henry asks, his voice taking a more breathy edge to it at the pleasure.
“Alex?” Henry prompts when he gets no answer, his rhythm speeding up with the way Alex looks entranced by him jerking off.
“Just— keep going, please,” he breathes, fixing his sitting position on his chair.
Henry smirks, his other hand moving up his torso to drag across his nipple. He tightens his fist as he moans softly—though still loud enough for Alex to hear him.
“You like what you’re seeing so far?” he asks.
“Fuck. What do you think, Henry?” Alex says, almost accusatory. Henry finds that Alex’s hand has moved to the front of his shorts, palming himself.
The pleasure Henry feels at that warms him up inside. As much as he’s the one giving the show, he fucking loves this view of Alex pleasuring himself.
“I think… we’re only getting started,” Henry says, releasing his cock, shiny with precome. He takes a few breaths first, then, “What do you think about me fingering myself, Alex? Would you like that?” he asks, mindlessly toying with the head of his cock.
“Jesus, Henry. Your mouth is so— filthy. Fuck, ugh, what is wrong with you?” Alex says, his hand pushing down on his crotch, his voice getting more strained.
“I should ask you that. Aren’t you the one getting off on watching me touch myself, hm?” Henry says, digging his thumb into his slit. “Ah— Answer my question, darling. Should I play with my pretty little hole for you?”
“Fuck,” Alex says, hips bucking up into his hand. “Yes. Yes, please.”
Henry lets go of his dick. “Good. So perfect for me, Alex. Begging without even me asking you to,” he says, moving to reach for the lube in his nightstand’s drawer.
He gets on all fours, baring his hole to Alex. He pours some lube onto his fingers, taking an unordinary amount of time warming it up.
“Please, H, come on,” Alex whines.
Henry answers by laughing then dragging his finger across his hole. He teases himself—yes, because he likes it, but more because he knows Alex will love it.
He cranes his neck to see how Alex is doing after a few swipes over his hole, and fucking Christ Alex’s shorts and boxers are down, his bare cock in his hand now, dripping with pre-cum. The scene makes Henry press his finger against his rim, though he doesn’t fully push inside.
“Christ, Alex. You’re leaking,” Henry moans, helpless to the arousal that courses through him at the sight.
“All because of you, H. Fuck. Are you gonna finger yourself or what?” Alex says, slicking his hand and moaning as it finally curls around his base and strokes upwards.
Henry exhales, his own dick longing for friction as he watches Alex’s fist move up and down. He lets out a breathy moan when he lets himself sink his first finger inside himself, the slide and the pressure always easy with just one.
He keeps watching Alex, the sight of him amping up the pleasure that he feels by millions. He inserts two fingers after getting used to one, the stretch of it extracting a noise from his throat, the slight sting feeling immeasurably good.
He hears Alex echo a similar sound to that, and so as soon as he’s properly adjusted, he starts really fucking himself onto his fingers, scissoring them occasionally and trying to find that spot that’ll make him see stars. He drives them in fast, deep, his moans continuous and breathy for Alex’s pleasure.
When he finally finds his prostate, his back arches and a loud whine escapes his lips; he feels his dick dribble out pre-cum onto the sheets. Alex responds with a moan of his own, as if he feels Henry’s pleasure in his own body.
Then, as if that weren’t enough, Alex starts talking.
“Fuck, H. So beautiful. So beautiful for me,” he says through panting breaths. The slick sounds of him fisting his cock are loud in the room. “You’re taking it so well, yeah? Fucking yourself on your fingers like you were made for it,” Alex grits out. Henry’s hips rock backward and forward, conflicting whether to take himself deeper or to seek out friction by grinding onto the bed.
“Oh, please, Alex,” Henry says, gripping the sheets with the hand that’s propping him up. “Wish it were, ah, I wish it were you,” Henry says, the feeling of Alex’s eyes, of Alex’s own pleasure, driving him insane. “I wish it were your beautiful— ah, cock fucking in and out of me, darling,” he gasps, grazing his prostate.
“Henry, I’m— I’m close, don’t stop, yeah, fuck,” Alex says, and Henry can hear the way his rhythm on his cock gets sloppy and so goddamn wet.
“Is this getting you off? Me fucking myself on my— ngh, fingers? You’re just watching and you’re already about to come?” Henry says, tone sharper.
The position is not in any way natural, but he turns his head to watch Alex fall apart. There is no way he’ll miss this.
Alex’s head is leaning on the back of the chair, face contorted in pleasure and mouth open as he moans and pants and sighs. His shorts are stretched around his big thighs—as if getting a hand on his dick were far more urgent than taking them off—while his shirt is hiked up on one side, his free hand playing with his nipple.
“You’re, hah, gonna make a mess of yourself, aren’t you?” Henry says, and Alex only moans louder. Henry starts fucking his fingers faster, hips moving to take them in deeper.
The sound of him jerking off is so damn obscene, even more so as it gets louder and faster.
“Henry,” Alex then breathes, and fuck.
It’s a plea and a prayer and a call for mercy all at once.
“Come for me, Alex,” Henry says, and before his very eyes, Alex comes apart.
His hips lift off the chair, hand flying up and down his cock as white shoots up onto his chest and dribbles onto his knuckles. His moans sound broken; really, they sound more like cries.
“So good, darling. So, so good. I know you have more in you, come on. Ride it out,” Henry says, breaths shallow as he removes his two fingers from inside him. He whines as he hears Alex sigh, his arm tiredly getting the bottle of lube to coat his fingers before he inserts three inside himself.
Alex groans when Henry whimpers at the stretch, still stroking his spent cock. He’s still consistent with the rhythm, apparently not stopping—only when it gets unbearably too much.
“Fuck. I feel so good, love. D’you feel good?” Henry tells Alex, feeling full with his hole stuffed with three fingers.
“Henry, I, ah—” Alex tries, knee hiking up in overstimulation. “Yes. Yeah. I feel so good. Fuck, oh, god, fuck, you look so beautiful for me, baby, please,” Alex says, and a loud moan escapes Henry.
His fingers still inside himself, the threat of an orgasm far more imminent now than it was one dangerous pet name ago.
He heaves a few breaths to regulate his breathing, the overwhelming feeling climbing up his belly.
“You okay, H?” Alex asks, then, voice full of concern despite being completely breathless.
Henry’s still recovering from the sound of baby leaving Alex’s lips.
“Yes, love, don’t worry,” Henry says, also catching his breath. He watches as Alex, still panting, takes his hand off his cock and shucks off his shirt to wipe the come off himself.
“Could you, erm, do me a favor?” Henry asks then, feeling his arm getting sore.
“Yeah. Yeah, sure, sweetheart. Anything,” Alex tells him, still wiping at his torso.
“Could you…” Henry says, cheeks burning.
Seriously. Of all things to be embarrassed of. His ass quite literally bared for Alex right this moment.
But, well.
“Grab the box under my bed. Open it, get the black plug, and wash it for me, please?” he requests, starting to resume moving his fingers in and out himself.
He sees Alex walk towards him—shorts now off and therefore completely fucking naked—crouching down to slide out the aforementioned box. He certainly gapes at the contents of it—dildos, vibrators, plugs—but doesn’t say a word as he picks up the black plug and goes to the bathroom to wash it.
Henry leisurely waits for Alex, lightly thrusting his fingers to keep him full but not enough to bring him back to the edge.
When he hears Alex return, looking back to find the plug dry in Alex’s hands, he sighs out, “Good. Thank you, Alex,” then takes out his fingers. Henry watches as Alex’s lips part at the motion, hiding his smirk into his chin when he reaches for the bottle of lube once again.
He’s about to ask Alex for the plug when he hears him mumble, “Actually, can I— uh, do you think I can…”
“Louder, darling,” Henry says gently, wildly curious.
Alex swallows. Then his eyes glance at Henry’s backside before saying, “Can I put it in you?”
Oh.
The rules, earlier, were that Alex could not touch Henry. That he couldn’t even come to Henry.
But, fuck, he’s been so good. And Henry wants Alex so badly.
Wants to feel his hands on him. Wants to hear him moan in his ear. Wants to kiss him so thoroughly that they’re both ruined for anyone else.
Christ. Henry is a weak man, anyway.
Alex will just… put the plug in him, Henry will get himself off, then they’ll go back to their regularly scheduled program. Probably. They’ll figure it out.
So. Fuck the rules.
“Alright, love. Here. Be gentle, please,” Henry says, handing Alex the lube as his hand softly strokes his dick with the slick fingers that were just inside him. His hole clenches around nothing, waiting for Alex to make a move.
“Can I, can I touch you?” Alex rasps, slowly walking closer towards Henry.
Henry feels the carnal need for Alex at his fingertips.
“Please,” Henry breathes, and when he doesn’t feel Alex he continues, “Alex, please, anywhere, come on, I just need—”
“Okay. Okay, baby, okay. I got you,” Alex soothes, reaching out to lightly caress his hip. Henry barely keeps in a moan at the touch. It’s gentle and warm and it’s Alex, and Henry bloody wants his hands on his body forever.
“Spread your legs for me, sweetheart,” Alex tells him, now with a hint of teasing in his tone. Henry complies, then Alex kneels down behind him on the mattress, between his legs.
Henry watches as Alex coats the plug in lube—very generously, he has to say—then points it towards his hole. Alex tentatively lays his hand on one of his cheeks, then runs his thumb across his rim.
Henry’s breath stutters as his hips instinctively move backwards.
“I— Was that okay?” Alex asks, eyes worried.
“Alex, I will start getting myself off on my own if you don’t do something more than skating your finger across my bumhole,” Henry threatens. It makes Alex laugh.
“So demanding,” he says, pinching the skin of Henry’s ass. Henry throws him a glare. “Relax, baby, I’ll put it in you now,” Alex tells him, hovering the plug over his hole.
Alex presses it in, Henry immediately relaxing to let it in easily. He goes slowly, the stretch easy from the three fingers he had earlier.
It’s truly a wonderful feeling to be filled back up again.
“Fuck, Henry, you’re… you’re taking it so well, sweetheart. So eager. So beautiful,” Alex says, transfixed as he eases the plug inside Henry. He inhales softly at the widest part stretching Henry before it fully inserts into him. Henry exhales in relief when it slides into place.
“Feels good, baby?” Alex asks, hand still attached to the end of the plug. His other hand is heavy on Henry’s hip, grip firm and comforting.
“Yes,” he breathes, more of a sigh than a word. “Thank you, Alex.”
He then shifts his position, moving so that he’s facing Alex when he jerks off. Alex’s hand brushes his skin before it falls to his side, Henry’s legs tired but fighting the soreness to kneel down on the mattress.
It’s the first time in a while since he’s gotten a proper view of Alex, and to his pleasure, he finds Alex’s entire expression filled with lust. His eyes are lidded, hungry, his mouth is open, breathing shallow breaths and possibly close to drooling, and his dick—for all the mere few minutes ago that he’s cum—is half-hard.
The urge to kiss him gets almost unbearable then—the proximity and the tension and the pure want in Alex’s gaze almost convincing Henry to.
And he thinks for a split-second that maybe he can—that maybe they can pass it off later as something in the heat of the moment, or that they could just pretend it never happened, but even that thought breaks him, and so he decides to save himself from future heartbreak instead.
Although, he does end up grabbing Alex’s shoulders, pushing himself up and straddling Alex’s lap, basically breathing, “So you get a better view, love,” into Alex’s face, which is really no better.
Alex gasps shakily, possibly dying then resurrecting in that short moment. His face leans forward, nose brushing against Henry’s chin, but Henry avoids him, taking the opportunity to spit into his hand.
“Spit,” he tells Alex then, and Alex blinks dazedly before complying. Henry coats his dick with their combined saliva, the warmth and the slick and the thought of Alex and the thought of both of them pushing out a moan from his lips.
Alex sucks in a breath at the view, Henry feeling every movement he’s making from the closeness.
“Can I— Fuck, Henry, you’re— I— Please,” Alex babbles, fisting the sheets below him.
Henry knows what he wants.
It’s exactly what he wants, too.
“Go on. You can touch. Free rein,” Henry says, too overtaken by the pleasure to even remember their rules.
Alex’s hands fly up to his waist, holding it then running up and down his sides. Henry shivers at the touch, the roughness of Alex’s palms and the weight of his fingers setting him ablaze. Alex’s hands travel all across his entire body, moving down to his legs, thumbs brushing against his inner thighs, up his torso, to the hand clutching Alex’s shoulder.
With one hand secure above Henry’s hip, Alex uses his other hand to caress the length of Henry’s arm, intertwining their fingers when he reaches the end. Henry exhales into Alex’s face, the tender act making him tighten his fist on his cock.
“Henry, please, let me—” Alex begs, breathless. His head is tilted up, their lips almost touching. “Can I kiss you? Please, I— Henry, please,” he asks, gripping the hand he’s holding.
How can Henry refuse when he’s begging so desperately? So beautifully? When he wants to kiss Alex just as much, if not more?
Henry doesn’t dare to answer, doesn’t dare spill what’s on the brink of being confessed. He just leans forward and captures Alex’s lips with his own.
A sound escapes Alex’s lips—of surprise, of relief, Henry can’t tell. He swallows the sound, anyway, finally living out what he’s been dreaming of since he first saw Alex.
The kiss is sloppy, and Alex is definitely leading it because Henry’s on the fucking verge of an orgasm and he can’t be bothered to make it good. Except Alex is devouring him, licking into his mouth, sucking his bottom lip, and it’s really making up for everything Henry isn’t conscious enough to do.
Alex’s hand on his hip blindly searches, patting him down, and Henry doesn’t understand, not until it lands above the hand curled around his dick, wrapping around his knuckles and following each motion.
Henry moans into Alex’s mouth, relaxing his hand to let Alex lead the motions. Alex senses it and gets all the more enthusiastic, fist gripping Henry’s hand and pumping his dick fast.
Now, they’re both barely kissing, their lips just parted widely and mashed together as they breathe into each other’s mouths. Occasionally, Alex leans in for a kiss, to make their lips meet, or darts out his tongue to find Henry’s, but really, they’re just moaning in each other’s faces.
(Not that Henry doesn’t find that extremely hot.)
Henry lets go of their entwined fingers, and in response to Alex’s whine in protest, Henry gives him a kiss. Then he uses his free hand to find Alex’s dick, now fully hard and fucking leaking, stroking in tandem with the rhythm they’re using to jerk himself off.
Alex hips buck up, a loud shout coming from him at the touch. Henry lets go of his own dick, the two of them now just getting each other off. Henry massages Alex’s thigh, moving his lips away from where they’re attached to Alex’s so he can mouth at his jaw.
He then drags his hand up Alex’s body, angling it so his nails lightly scratch the surface, before it finds its way to the nape of Alex’s neck, burrowing into the curls and tugging to give himself more access to Alex’s neck.
Then Alex moans, and Henry feels a blurt of pre-cum spill into his fist, and— Oh.
He pulls at his hair again, and Alex is suddenly talking, frantic.
“Henry, fuck me, baby, if you keep doing that, ah, you— I’ll— I’m gonna cum. Fuck, fuck, fuck, ah, baby. God, I— ah, Henry, please,” Alex says, his hips moving uncontrollably under Henry’s touch.
Henry jerks him off more quickly in response, hand still curled around Alex’s hair, both of their rhythms getting more and more uneven as they get closer to the brink.
“You, ah, you close, baby? Hm? Gonna come for me?” Alex asks, closing his fist tighter around Henry.
“Yes, Alex, ah, please. I’m almost— almost there, love, just— ah, keep going,” Henry moans, lips directly under Alex’s ear.
After that, it’s all just grunts and groans, lips on skin and tongues spewing nonsensical words, and hands flying to chase that edge before the two of them spill into each other’s fists.
It shouldn’t be so erotic, to see cum shoot up Alex’s chest for the second time that evening, to see his own release mix with it, to have desperate whines escape both of them, to have each other’s hands moving so quickly with so much fervor—
But it fucking is.
He revels in the feeling of release, of finally reaching his peak with Alex’s hand around him and the plug inside him keeping him filled. He watches as Alex pushes up into his fist, still in the midst of his orgasm, moaning and sweating and panting and grinding his beautiful damn hips.
At the back of his mind, there lies the impending doom of their bubble bursting, of this moment between them ending and reality coming crashing down. But Alex is still cumming—very beautifully, Henry might add, so he’ll focus on that first.
He presses his thumb under the head of Alex’s cock, enjoying the way Alex screams and keens.
Alex lets go of Henry’s dick, then, too occupied with catching his breath. Henry brushes his fingers over Alex’s head one last time before releasing his cock as well, tempted to lick the cum dripping off his knuckles.
Instead, because he’s a damn genius, he gathers the cum on his own stomach, gets what’s on Alex’s torso, too, then grabs Alex’s chin, looking straight into his eyes before feeding cum-covered fingers into his mouth.
He watches as Alex closes his lips around his fingers, feels Alex’s warm tongue suck the cum off. When he removes his hand he immediately pulls Alex closer by the jaw, chasing the taste of their release on his tongue, kissing him till it’s gone.
He disconnects their lips, and before he can even think of how to end the moment, unexpectedly, Alex pushes him down, the two of them landing backwards onto the mattress.
Then Alex resumes kissing the life out of him.
Well, Henry wouldn’t say no to more kissing.
They’re really going nowhere with it, both their dicks now completely soft, but Henry still enjoys being taken apart by Alex with his lips, the slide of their tongues and the melding of their mouths a wonderful sensation he never wants to forget. His hands roam around Alex’s back, enjoying the expanse of skin underneath his palms. He scratches lightly at Alex’s scalp, too, rewarded with a deeper kiss and a sigh into his mouth.
Of course, he still feels it slowly ending as each second passes. The weight of Alex’s body on top of him starts to grow heavier, the hazy cloud of sex hormones start to clear up in his brain. His body starts to feel the tiredness creep in his muscles, he starts to feel his lips getting more sensitive and swollen, and he starts to remember what they have to face after this is all over.
But, Christ, their lips part, and the first thing that welcomes him is Alex looking down at him and smiling.
It’s so endearing and affectionate and confusing, until—
“Learned a lot from your show, baby,” Alex says, then flops down onto Henry, cuddling him as he tucks his head between Henry’s neck and shoulder. “Maybe you should teach me the romance part now of being with a guy,” he mumbles into his skin.
Henry stops breathing.
What?
“Would you like that?” he asks, voice coming down to a whisper. He turns his head, his nose meeting a nest of curls. Alex looks up at him, wrapping his arm tightly around Henry’s torso.
“I really would,” Alex replies easily, then stretches up to leave a chaste peck on Henry’s lips. “Really,” he adds for good measure.
“Where does that leave us then, love?” Henry asks, hand coming up to push some curls away from Alex’s forehead.
“Dating? Boyfriends? Unofficial husbands? I think I’m in love with you, so, whatever you want, baby,” he says, smiling softly.
“You’re what?” Henry says, completely shocked.
“Yeah. Should’ve realized that when you were the reason for my sexuality crisis but— I only really knew after I was picturing you giving me a show. Which, by the way, you should definitely do again,” Alex says.
“Darling, I—” Henry says, at a loss for words. He’s not so sure what to say after several of his dreams have just turned into reality.
“I know, baby,” Alex says, because of course he understands. He burrows his face back into Henry’s neck, tugging him into an embrace. Henry holds him tightly in return.
Henry takes a few deep breaths, letting this new reality sink into him: the weight of Alex’s arm across his chest, his breaths fanning across Henry’s neck, the warmth of his body so close to his own.
It’s all so bloody lovely. He could definitely live with this reality.
“So, was watching the gay porn at the dining table a ploy for you to get a reaction out of me, or what?” Henry says once he’s finally collected his wits.
Alex laughs. “Nah. I really was just… very hyperfixated on my research.”
Henry hums. “Makes sense.”
“Was it effective?” Alex asks then, voice a little more feeble than before.
“The research?” Henry says, a bit amused. “Darling, you could’ve went in—don’t you dare make that joke—blind, and I still would have been absolutely ruined by your touch.”
“Henry,” Alex whines, and when Henry peers at him he finds a little pout on his lips.
Fine. He’ll indulge his boyfriend one last time before they shower.
“Alright,” Henry drawls, rolling his eyes. He purposefully cranes his neck, moving his lips closer to Alex’s ear before lowly murmuring, “You were very, very good, Alex.”
Alex blinks slowly, swallowing and licking his lips. Henry smirks, then throws Alex’s arm off him and sits up. “Now, come on, love. Let’s take a shower.”
He doesn’t spare Alex another glance as he stands up—wobbling for a moment with his sore legs—and walks to the bathroom.
Then, from a few feet away, he hears, “Oh, you know what you just did and you are so paying for that.”
And, well, to put it frankly, Henry does.