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You know I’m solid gold
Worship me at the altar, what you got to offer?
You better do what you’re told
I ain’t gonna say it twice, and I’m done with playing nice, yeah.
I’ll let you take control
Put your hands on my hips and we’ll go, baby, go
So magical, you won’t ever wanna think about tomorrow.
— “Love Like Mine” by Stela Cole
There are times Alex thinks that he might be starting to like Henry. Henry’s quite kind, actually, with his children’s hospital visits and his charity work. Anyone could do that, Alex knows. But there are other things: the way Henry acts around his sister, always gentle and loving instead of boorish and rude like his brother; the way Henry gently pats his horse after polo and walks her around to cool down, how he speaks to her gently and feeds her apples; the way that when they’re at the same event and catch each other’s eyes across the room, Henry gives a soft little smile, one corner of his mouth turning up, eyes sparkling.
And then there are times, like now, where Henry is being an unbelievable pain, and Alex isn’t sure if he wants to punch him or fuck him. Neither is (technically) allowed, but they’ve already had each other’s dicks in each other’s mouths, so that’s one line that’s been irreversibly crossed.
“Stop doing that fake fucking laugh right in my ear,” Henry murmurs. They’re at some mind numbing charity garden party for which Alex agreed to be Henry’s plus one after Bea got sick.
“Oh, I apologize,” Alex shoots back sarcastically, “but none of this is remotely entertaining to me.”
“Oh please, don’t act like you’re doing me a favor. I could have come alone.”
“Then I would have had to listen to you be a fucking martyr about it.”
“Yes, well now I get to listen to you ‘be a fucking martyr about it.’”
They’re interrupted by some lord or viscount or whatever the hell, who makes some insipid comment, and Alex has to fake laugh again. God, why the hell did he agree to this?
Who is he kidding? He knows why he agreed to this, and the reason is standing right next to him, his posture stupidly perfect and his suit perfectly tailored and his hair stupidly…stupidly something. He hears the marquess? duke? say something else, and Alex has to actually verbally respond and pretend like he doesn’t have a fucking war going on inside him right now and he doesn’t even know what’s winning, like-turning-maybe-into-love or loathing-turning-maybe (definitely)-into-arousal.
The baron or earl or whoever finally steps away, and Henry turns to him, perfect pouty lips in a hard line. “Are you incapable of holding a conversation?” Henry bites out.
“What about that was a conversation? It was just him bragging about….I actually don’t know what he was bragging about; I wasn’t really listening.”
“Alex!” Henry says, then realizes he might have been a few decibels too loud. “Alex,” he hisses, “you are here as my guest, which means you reflect me, which means—.”
“Yes, yes, I know what it means, Your Majesty. I’m here to help you maintain your perfect little stick-up-your-ass image.”
Henry sputters.
“Were those supposed to be words?” Alex asks.
The next thing he knows, Henry’s hand is curled around his upper arm, fingers pressing so hard into his skin it’s painful and might bruise. Alex isn’t sure if he’s turned on by that or not. What he is sure of is that he is being bodily dragged away from the party, almost tripping over his own feet as Henry hauls him towards the estate. He’s not even sure who this house belongs to, but Henry seems to be familiar enough to pull him in the right direction.
Alex kicks up the gravel in the drive as he’s manhandled past parked cars, sleek and dark, and around the side of the house. There’s a separate entrance here, though it’s mostly hidden, and Henry jiggles the knob until the door gives way. Alex is roughly pulled over the threshold, and then he’s standing in a dim room as Henry slams the door shut.
He realizes it’s a little servants’ dining room off of a small kitchen, both of which seem not to be in use anymore. He wonders how Henry even knew it was here, if Henry has taken other people here, has let them kiss him and touch him and—.
“This isn’t some secret place where I come to fuck, if that’s what you’re thinking,” Henry says, interrupting Alex’s spiraling thoughts. And then Henry is pushing Alex against the wall and kissing him like he either really loves him or really hates him. (Alex isn’t quite sure which, can’t put too much thought into it when Henry’s hands are on his cheeks and Henry’s tongue is in his mouth and Henry’s thigh is between his legs.)
Alex’s brain finally comes back online, and he pushes away from the wall until they’re at the dining table, and then Alex is lifting Henry up and depositing him on the table’s surface. Henry’s legs wrap around his waist, and they both groan. Alex rolls his hips, gasping at the friction. He’s already dizzy and all he’s done is hump Henry while they’re both fully clothed.
Henry rips his mouth away, pushing Alex back until he can slide from the table and stand. Alex is struck by how beautiful Henry looks like this, flushed and panting, the light from the little windows making him almost glow. It’s ruined as soon as Henry speaks. “Get on your knees.”
Alex laughs and it sounds like a breathy bark. “Fuck you.”
Henry raises an eyebrow and leans in even closer. “I don’t think you’re ready for that, darling,” he says into Alex’s ear.
Alex reaches around and grabs the back of Henry’s neck hard. “You are un-fucking-believable, do you know that? I’ll get on my knees if and when I want to, and it’s not going to be because you demanded it. That shit might fly with everyone else but I am not everyone else and I don’t bend to your fucking whims.”
Alex closes his eyes, bracing for Henry to slap him, or physically throw him out the door, or maybe just leave him here with a now-aching hard-on, but Henry does none of that. Instead, he kisses Alex, biting hard at Alex’s lower lip and then soothing the sting with his tongue.
Henry spins them around, and the edge of the table is pushing into Alex’s low back. Henry leans in again, panting hotly into Alex’s ear. “Do you want to fuck me?” Alex’s moan is long and loud. “I’ll take that as a yes.”
“Maybe if I fuck you hard enough you’ll shut the fuck up for once,” Alex bites back, embarrassed at the noise he made. Henry laughs, so Alex hauls him even closer and shifts so his thigh is between Henry’s legs.
Henry grunts at the unexpected pressure against his erection, his hips moving without his consent as he ruts against Alex.
“Fuck, you’re gorgeous,” Alex says, his mouth apparently operating so separately from his brain that they might as well be in two separate timezones. Henry whines as Alex moves his leg away. “Still want to fuck you,” he murmurs.
Henry kisses him again and pushes Alex’s jacket off, followed by his own. Their ties are next, and then Alex is fumbling with trembling fingers trying to undo the buttons of Henry’s shirt.
“Fucking stupid things,” Alex growls.
Henry, for his part, is making quick work of Alex’s buttons. “Some of us are just more refined, dear,” he says.
Alex slaps Henry’s hands away and pulls the shirt over his head. “You’ve got a quite a mouth for someone who’s about to get fucked into next week.” Henry doesn’t have a chance to respond as Alex pushes Henry’s shirt off his shoulders and presses his tongue to one of Henry’s nipples.
Henry’s head lolls back and one hand goes to Alex’s hair, encouraging him to stay where he is. Eventually, Alex scrapes his teeth across Henry’s chest and gives the same treatment to the other nipple. He moves off to undo the fastenings of Henry’s pants, and then Henry is doing the same to his, and soon they’re both in nothing but their boxers.
Henry shoves his hand underneath Alex’s waistband, wrapping his hand around Alex and smearing the fluid down his length. “You’re so wet already,” he says, licking into Alex’s mouth. “Probably don’t even need lube with the way you’re leaking for me.”
Alex pushes Henry’s boxers down and slides his hand from base to tip, rubbing his thumb over the head, reveling in Henry’s whine. “You’re one to talk,” he says. “I bet I could make you come just like this. Just a few strokes and you’d be done. Were you this hard for those assholes at school? Or just for me?”
Henry just manages to bite back the Just for you that’s on the tip of his tongue. “On the floor,” he says instead.
“The floor?” Alex asks, looking back at the table.
“The table won’t hold us,” Henry explains impatiently.
Alex nods and picks up both of their jackets, spreading them on the floor. He thinks he sees something on Henry’s face, some expression he doesn’t have time to place, before Henry is pulling him down and straddling his lap and they’re both groaning into each other’s mouths.
Henry breaks away and pushes at Alex’s shoulder, indicating he should lie down.
“Um, what the fuck?” Alex asks.
Henry huffs. “What is the problem?” he asks, annoyed.
“Uh, the problem is you’re still on top of me when I thought I was going to be doing the fucking.”
Henry raises an eyebrow, and it does something to Alex’s insides that he can’t quite name. “You will be,” Henry says simply. “But it’s your first time, and it’s not my first time, so I will be on top.”
“Woah, woah, woah. Hell no,” Alex says.
Henry rolls his eyes. “For Christ’s sake, you can bend me over whatever available surface is nearby next time, but for now we’re doing it this way or not at all,” he replies, not realizing he has agreed to a “next time.”
Alex notices, though, so he lies back.
“Hold out your hand,” Henry instructs, and squirts lube onto Alex’s fingers, and where did that come from? “Do you need me to—?”
“I know what to do,” Alex snaps. “Sorry,” he says, rubbing his fingers together. “Just, um…” he starts, and Henry moves up his body. He theoretically knows what to do, but has never actually done it. He reaches behind Henry and trails his ring and pinky finger down, starting at Henry’s lower back. When he reaches his destination, he pushes his forefinger in up to the first knuckle. “Okay?” he asks, watching Henry bite his lip.
“Yeah,” Henry breathes. “You can…you can keep going.”
Alex gives a jerky nod and pushes his finger in the rest of the way. Henry’s face is relaxed now, so Alex turns his wrist a bit before pulling back slightly and pushing back in. Henry is insanely hot and tight, and Alex’s cock twitches as he thinks about what’s coming.
Apparently he’s gotten a little too lost in thought, because Henry makes an impatient noise. “You can add a second one; I’m not going to break.”
Henry’s hands are on Alex’s chest, and he feels Henry’s nails bite into his skin as he starts to push a second finger inside. He scissors his fingers, and Henry groans quietly. “Still okay?” Alex asks.
“Yes,” Henry says. He means to snap, but it comes out breathy.
Alex pulls his fingers almost all the way out, and when he pushes them back in, Henry shouts and slams his hips back.
“Fuck!” he cries. “There.”
Alex repeats the motion, watching, enraptured, as Henry rocks his hips against Alex’s fingers.
“Add another one,” Henry demands.
Alex has to pull out to add more lube, and Henry whines, a high-pitched sound that Alex hasn’t heard before but wants to hear again. He pushes three fingers all the way in, easily finding Henry’s prostate, and his eyes almost roll back as Henry practically rides his hand. “Fuck, tell me you’re ready,” Alex grits out.
“Yes, yes,” Henry breathes, reaching back to swat at Alex’s arm.
Alex reaches for the condom that has also somehow appeared, but Henry gets there first, ripping open the packet and rolling it down Alex’s length. “Fuck, you’re such a bra-at,” Alex says, the wind knocked out of him as Henry starts to lower himself down.
“I think you love it,” Henry breathes as he seats himself fully.
“Don’t,” Alex protests, trying desperately to stay still and let Henry adjust. “Fuck, Henry,” he says, trying to keep his eyes open. Henry’s eyes are closed, harsh breaths escaping as his chest heaves. His cheeks and throat are flushed red, and his thighs are shaking the tiniest bit. There’s a feeling in Alex’s chest that he’s a little afraid to look too closely at.
Henry starts to rock his hips, letting out an embarrassing half-whine, half-moan. He braces himself for whatever Alex will have to say about it, but when he opens his eyes, Alex is looking at him with something like surprise, or maybe even wonder. Henry doesn’t want to think about what that means, so he pushes against Alex’s chest as he starts to lift and lower his hips.
Alex grunts, his hands flying to Henry’s thighs, fingernails digging in as he feels the muscles rhythmically tense and release. “Is this the real reason all you assholes learn to ride horses?” Alex grits out. “So you can grow up to get fucked on a dirty floor?”
“You should be grateful,” Henry pants, biting his lip. He’s trying desperately to hold in the sounds he wants to make, and Alex notices.
“Let me hear you,” Alex says, and he shifts his hands to Henry’s hips and thrusts up once sharply.
“Oh!” Henry gasps in surprise.
“That’s it,” Alex encourages, matching Henry’s rhythm, thrusting up as Henry slams down. It takes a few more thrusts before Alex finds Henry’s prostate, and Henry sobs.
“Alex,” he moans.
Alex keeps up the pace, his hands squeezing Henry’s hips hard enough to bruise. Henry is so hot and tight around him that he starts to get dizzy.
Henry is quickly losing control. Alex is nailing his prostate on every thrust, and all he can do is claw his nails into Alex’s chest as his legs tremble. He realizes he’s chanting “Alex, Alex, Alex,” but he has no control over anything anymore.
Alex sees Henry move one hand from his chest to wrap around his erection, and his hips stutter. Henry’s eyes are closed again, his plush lips parted, his hand working frantically as he jerks himself off while Alex continues to fuck up into him. “Oh, fuck, Henry,” Alex moans.
Henry sobs. He can’t hold onto a single thought as he shamelessly bucks and squirms in Alex’s lap. “Don’t stop, please, please, don’t stop,” he begs.
“I’ve got you,” Alex says. “Come on, gorgeous,” he encourages. “Come for me.”
Henry gasps as his orgasm takes him by surprise. He releases over his hand and Alex’s chest, clenching around Alex, who is still hot and hard inside of him. It feels so good and he’s pretty sure it’s himself he’s hearing practically scream in pleasure, his head thrown back, his whole body alight.
“Oh, Christ, Henry,” Alex says. “You’re perfect, so perfect, fuck, fuck, Henry,” he groans, his head spinning as he finds his release. He pulls Henry’s hips down as his own snap up, grinding against Henry as he rides out his orgasm.
Henry drapes himself over Alex, letting himself listen to Alex’s racing heart. He knows Alex will regain awareness soon, and then they’ll have to get up and go back to the party. Henry wants to stay here, even though his knees are killing him and his suit jacket is ruined. He knows he’s very far into dangerous territory. He hears Alex let out a quiet groan, so he lifts himself up and rolls to Alex’s side. “Well,” he says, sitting up.
“Yeah,” Alex says, sitting up and looking at Henry.
Henry looks away. “We should get back.”
“Right,” Alex replies. He removes the condom and ties it off, then realizes there’s nowhere to throw it away, so he shoves it into the pocket of his suit jacket.
Henry pulls a handkerchief from somewhere and cleans himself off, then tosses it to Alex so he can do the same. Finished, Alex holds it back out to Henry. “You should probably just keep it,” Henry says, so Alex stuffs it into the other pocket of his jacket.
Great, he thinks. A condom in one pocket and a cum-stained handkerchief in the other. That’s a good look.
They dress in silence, shaking the dirt and dust from their clothes. “So,” Alex says, brushing the last of the dirt from his jacket. Henry looks over at him, eyebrow raised. “Back to the party?”
Henry nods. “Yes,” he says, though it comes out a little garbled and he clears his throat. “Back to the party.” He jiggles the knob again to open the door, and then they’re back in the bright sunlight. Henry stumbles a little as they start the walk back, and Alex grabs his hand, steadying him. Alex expects Henry to pull away immediately, but he doesn’t. Instead, he lets his fingers linger as he separates their hands.
Alex feels a comfortable warmth in his gut. He’s starting to see more and more past the armor that Henry wears, the front he puts up for the public. It’s not everything he wants, not by a long shot, but that’s okay. He’s just coming to terms with the fact that he wants something beyond a messy blowjob in a darkened room or a rough handjob while their security teams wait outside.
As they approach the gathered crowd, he knows it will be worth the wait.