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Alex is two seconds away from typing out “literally fuck you,” and the only thing stopping him is the knowledge that he doesn’t want to look like a total angry douchebag when meeting the possible love of his life. According to the matchmaking test, apparently. Nora was thrilled.
“The statistics don’t lie, Alejandro,” she said when Alex opened his test results yesterday on the beach, leaning back on her lounge chair. She waved a dismissive hand. “Go to this event and bone your mystery dream guy while I bone your sister.”
“Ew,” Alex and June both said in unison.
But if Alex can bone this guy that apparently is larger-than-life compatible with him, he’s planning to do exactly that. It’s been too long since he’s had sex — okay, any kind of intimacy, really — and this back-and-forth he’s had with this complete and utter dickwad on Reddit isn’t helping. There’s literally nothing that gets him more riled up than a good argument, and as much as he hates Reddit user mostardently and their completely wrong opinion on Star Wars, he can’t deny the thrill that zips down his spine every time he gets called an insufferable prick by them.
He finishes sending off another response — “it’s called cinematography, asshole, look it up” — and slides his phone in his pocket, taking another sweep of the room. He doesn’t know what this guy looks like; he doesn’t even know his name. All he knows is that he’s meeting him at this bar in the most touristy part of downtown, and according to the event coordinator, she’s never seen a match this high.
Alex doesn’t believe in soulmates, but he can’t deny that his stomach flips whenever he thinks about his mystery man.
Alex looks away from the small crowd of people at the singles event to adjust the nametag on his breast when he hears someone clear their throat. Looking up, he’s met with six feet of tall, blond, and leggy, and his mouth literally waters.
The man eyes Alex up and down, his lips curling into a semblance of a smirk. “Please tell me you’re the man I’m supposed to meet,” he starts, and holy British. That’s something Alex is into, apparently.
Alex blinks several times before responding. He kind of feels like he’s factory resetting. “Yeah,” he finally blurts, louder than what’s probably appropriate for an event like this. He clears his throat. “I mean, yes, I think so, I — unless you’re looking for someone else with a 99.8% compatibility score?”
The man’s lips stretch in a wide smile, enough to make his eyes crinkle at the corners. Holy fuck, Alex thinks he’s died and come face-to-face with a sexy, demented angel. “Only the one, love,” he says, and Alex pretends he doesn’t have a visceral reaction to the pet name pronounced in those elongated vowels, his eyes shutting briefly for a moment before he forces them open again. When he does, the man has his phone out, showing the matchmaking test results that match Alex’s. “Please tell me this looks familiar?”
Alex fumbles with his own phone to pull up his own test results and show them to the man. He nods in approval. “Quite,” he chuckles, answering his own question.
Alex pockets his phone. “I’m Alex,” he says. “You’re, um —”
He’s about to say hot, but the man luckily beats him to the punch, and instead says, “Henry.” Fuck, is that name fitting.
“Henry,” Alex repeats. He can’t help his own wide smile that spreads across his face. “You want a drink? First round’s on me.”
Henry slips into one of the barstools as elegantly as his long-ass legs allow him. “By all means.”
They’re at the very end of the bar, so Alex leaves to catch the bartender where she stands in the middle, his head spinning. June convincing him to take a vacation for once was the best goddamn idea she’s ever had. Nora forcing him to sign up for this matchmaking event was the best goddamn idea she’s ever had. He needs to thank them as soon as possible — hopefully not too soon. Ideally not until next morning. Or late afternoon. He’s pretty flexible.
“Two mojitos, please,” he asks, straining his neck to catch a glimpse of Henry on the other side of the bar. The crowd is too thick — and he’s not the tallest, okay — only allowing him to catch sight of the top of his blond head. A pang of disappointment hits him at the same time as his phone pings with a notification.
He blindly fishes for his phone, not content yet to look away from what’s visible of Henry, expecting to see a text from June or Nora asking how the event is going. What he gets instead — and what makes his body physically react like fire has spread all throughout his bones — is a response from mostardently themself.
“Cinematography, by definition, is the art of science of photography in a visual medium,” it reads. “I would rely on this as well if my critical thinking was too small to comprehend a narrative such as Jedi’s.”
Alex grinds his teeth together. Fuck, he hates this person.
He punches out a reply that probably doesn’t make as much sense as he hopes it does — whatever, problem for future Alex when he doesn’t have a sexy man waiting for a drink from him — and takes both mojitos in his hands, making a beeline back to Henry.
Henry sits up straighter when he sees Alex again, the furrow in his brow that wasn’t there before immediately fading. He turns off his phone and pockets it, graciously taking the glass that Alex hands him. “Cheers,” he says in a low voice as Alex hops on the barstool next to him, extending his glass for a clink together.
Alex grins and indulges Henry in the cheers. They both take a sip, and Alex can’t look away from the bob of Henry’s Adam’s apple as he swallows. He can’t help but wonder if swallowing is something Henry is used to.
Henry sets his drink down on the bar after Alex, leaving his hand there. Alex pauses, then inches his own hand forward, until the tips of his fingers bump against Henry’s. The answering smile Alex gets in return tells him he read the cards exactly right.
“So,” Henry starts, tilting his head to the side in a way that’s devastatingly attractive, “tell me everything about you.”
Alex is several drinks in, and he’s pretty sure he’s died and come back to life.
Henry is just — fuck, Henry is everything. He’s smart, he’s funny, he’s intelligent, and he doesn’t seem to mind the teases Alex throws his way, nor does he hesitate in giving them right back. It’s no wonder they scored so high on the compatibility test. Alex may have to rethink his whole belief on soulmates.
Henry’s also insanely attractive, something that’s resonated with Alex with each word that leaves Henry’s lips, with each subtle movement he makes in the barstool. He’s fucking horny, too, and that feeling has only been amplified by the amount of mojitos he’s drank. The festering online feud certainly hasn’t helped, either. When Henry excused himself to the bathroom for a brief minute, Alex couldn’t resist checking if he got another response from mostardently.
As if Alex had the ability to predict the future, a response flashed across his screen not fifteen seconds later, carefully thought-out rebuttals mixed with witty insults. Alex isn’t ashamed to admit that the latest argument from this prick makes his cock twitch in his pants, or maybe that’s just a simple effect of being around an insanely hot guy, or a result of the mojitos — or both.
Whatever the case, Alex is itching to get this guy under him. Or on top of him. Or on the side, or all over — he is flexible, after all.
“...and it’s quite on the nose, I’ll admit,” Henry is saying, waving a hand flippantly as he gestures. Alex is leaning on his own hand, elbow resting on the top of the bar, probably looking at Henry as the embodiment of a lovestruck fool. “But Pride and Prejudice is the classic of all classics. It’s impossible not to love it.”
“Can I admit something?” Alex asks. His grin stretches wider. “I’ve actually never read it.”
Henry stills with his glass raised halfway to his mouth. “Please tell me you’re joking.”
“I’m not,” Alex snickers. “I haven’t seen the movie, either. Er, movies. Any of them. It’s kinda a… a running joke, I guess. My sister really likes that book, too, and she tried to make me read it when I was, like, sixteen and she was in college, and I kept saying no to spite her. And it’s more than ten years later and I’m still doing it to spite her. Or, not doing it, I guess.”
“That,” Henry says slowly, “is the only acceptable justification for not having read Pride and Prejudice. I have an older brother. Christ, the amount of things I did in spite just to get under his skin… we’ve mended our relationship much, but there are still times where I’d rather fall back on that excuse.”
“So I’m in the clear?”
“Now, I didn’t say that,” Henry says, pointing a finger at him. Fuck, it’s long. Alex shifts in his seat as subtly as he can. “I have half a mind to invite you back to my hotel and have you analyze Joe Wright’s interpretation of the novel.”
Invite you back to my hotel. Alex sits up straighter. “Is that all you’d do to me?” he asks, his voice lower than before.
Henry flicks his eyes up and down Alex’s body, dissecting him just like he promised Alex he’d do with the film. “Of course not,” he finally says. He leans in closer, and Alex follows, dragged in as if by an invisible magnetic force. “What I’d love to do is get you on that king-sized bed in my hotel room… spread you out against the headboard. Get you comfortable… prop you up with some pillows…”
Alex tries not to groan at the image, but it’s hard. His eyes flutter shut. “Yeah?”
Henry hums in agreement. “And then I’d settle in next to you and enlighten you with more award-winning film adaptations of classic novels. Greta Gerwig’s Little Women, perhaps? A Raisin in the Sun with Sidney Poitier? Or, one of my favorite activities, comparing the different versions of Hamlet?”
Alex blinks his eyes open. “Huh? Wait, that’s your favorite activity?”
Henry lifts one shoulder in a playful shrug. “A hyperbole, no less.”
“Okay,” Alex says, leaning back in his seat. Despite the interruption, he’s still majorly turned on, but he’ll play this little game. “No more classics. What else?”
Henry mirrors his stance, looking thoroughly pleased. “Plenty. The Great British Bake Off marathon, for starters. Historical documentaries of queer figures in Britain. The original trilogy of Star Wars —”
“Hold on,” Alex interrupts, his eyes lighting up. “Star Wars? You’re actually into, like, normal people things?”
“I’ve not known anyone who can’t enjoy Star Wars,” Henry says. “The cultural impact is fascinating.”
“Okay, yes, and the biggest plot twist in cinematic history? Nothing can match it.”
“Its themes of redemption and forgiveness are what truly strikes me,” Henry adds. “Luke’s character, especially. He wants to forgive his father terribly, even after all he’d done.”
Alex nods. “Exactly. And that’s why there’s a clear favorite, obviously, it’s —”
“Return of the Jedi,” Henry finishes for him at the exact same time as Alex says “Empire.”
The conversation suddenly takes a screeching halt.
Henry just stares at him, his lips slightly parted, blinking like he’s trying to comprehend something that feels physically impossible to do so. Alex gives his head a little shake. He laughs, suddenly, pushing a hand through his hair as sudden tension fills the air between them. “Sorry, this is, like, major déjà vu right now,” he explains. “I’ve been arguing with this schmuck online about this exact same thing. They’re also really into, uh. Y’know, Return of the Jedi.” He coughs. “Funny.”
Henry says nothing for a while. Then, as if each word pains him to speak: “Are you barracuda1998?”
Alex feels his jaw drop. “Fuck,” he says. “You’re the schmuck I’ve been arguing with online?”
“As it seems,” Henry says, taking a long drink of his mojito. “Your rebuttals are quite, ah… colorful.”
Alex’s mind is reeling. “So we’ve been arguing back and forth this entire date? Did you go to the fucking bathroom just to get back at me on Reddit?”
“If I recall,” Henry says, “you were the one who started this entire argument. So, if anything…”
“It’s my fault?” Alex finishes incredulously. “Not a chance, man.”
Henry shakes his head, putting the now-empty glass back on the bar. “Christ, and this was going so well, too,” he mutters, clearly more to himself than to Alex, but Alex isn’t exactly far away enough to not hear.
“What, so you — you just want to forget about everything?” Alex asks. “Does 99.8% mean nothing to you anymore?”
Henry finally glances back at Alex. “It’s quite obvious you hate me,” he says, “and to be quite honest, I haven’t been too fond of our conversation, either.”
“No, you —” Fuck, Henry has it all wrong. Sometimes, this is what Alex craves, the back-and-forth of it all, but with the knowledge that it’s not deep enough to really break someone apart — everything with Henry tonight has been great. Amazing. Borderline perfect.
“I like it when you insult me,” Alex says lamely. Fuck, he could have worded that much more eloquently. “Like. A lot.”
That admittance makes Henry pause. He turns back toward Alex, almost like an invitation, looking at him in that same dissecting way as before. Alex squirms in his seat. “Do you really?”
Alex just nods. Perhaps it’s a bit too eager.
It’s not too eager for Henry, however. He leans in, just a few inches away from Alex’s face, and quirks the corners of his mouth up into a tiny, knowing smirk. “Well then,” he says slowly, “I believe we can make an arrangement.”
Alex gulps in anticipation.
True to his word, Henry gets Alex on that king-sized bed in his hotel room, spreads him out against the headboard, and props him up with some pillows. There’s even a movie on in front of the bed. That’s not what Alex is paying attention to, however.
“Fuck,” he chokes out for probably the hundreth time, curling his fingers into Henry’s hair. “Henry, it’s — it’s too much, you —”
Henry pops off Alex’s cock, which has been red and throbbing for nearly an hour. Henry’s lips are equally red. He glances over his shoulder, where the screen shows Han Solo and Chewbacca taking out some stormtroopers. “Oh, darling,” he says, his voice wrecked. “We’re not even halfway done with the movie. You know the rules.” He leans back down and kisses the leaking tip of Alex’s cock.
Alex does know the rules, and he happily agreed to them when Henry first sat him down and presented him with this little game. Now, however, it’s pure torture. Alex groans. “If you touch my dick again, there’s no way I’m not gonna come,” he admits, panting.
Henry hums. “I don’t mind seeing you come.”
“I do.” If Alex comes before Return of the Jedi finishes playing, then he has to admit that it’s better than Empire. There’s no way he’s going to allow himself to do that.
“Fine,” Henry says, reaching for his toiletry bag on top of the nightstand. “I won’t touch you anymore, but don’t think for a second we’re stopping.” He pulls out what he was looking for — a tiny, travel-sized bottle of lube. Alex would have laughed if he wasn’t so keyed up. “I’ll just have to prep you instead.”
A whine escapes from Alex, and his head falls back, thudding against the headboard as his eyes close. Henry tuts in disapproval. “None of that, Alex. Open your eyes. Watch the whole thing.”
Alex forces his eyes open. He gets a glimpse of Luke and Leia chasing stormtroopers through the forest before dropping his gaze down to the man between his legs. Henry warms up the lube in between his fingers, having coated them thoroughly. He’s looking straight up at Alex, his bottom lip caught between his teeth, a hungry look in his eyes. Alex automatically spreads his legs wider.
“So good for me,” Henry breathes, ignoring the full-body shiver the praise coaxes from Alex’s bones. “I don’t even need to tell you what to do, and yet you’re already doing it.” He presses a wet kiss to the inside of Alex’s thigh. “Much better than fighting with me all the time.”
“That’s different,” Alex gasps, but the rest of his words die in his throat at the first press of Henry’s fingers to his hole. Henry circles his fingers there, spreading the lube around, not pushing in but applying firm, constant pressure.
“Is it really?” Henry rubs the pads of two lube-slicked fingers over Alex’s hole. “Put your legs on my shoulders, Alex.”
“Wha—?”
Before Alex can even finish speaking, Henry sinks his free hand into the meat of Alex’s thigh and hoists his leg into the air, dropping it over his shoulder. Alex gasps, a new rush of arousal flowing through his veins, and diligently follows suit with his other leg. He feels completely exposed like this. It’s not like he’s never bottomed before, but this time feels especially vulnerable — maybe due to the fact that his maybe-possible-practical soulmate is the same guy who’s been riling him the past week.
“Keep watching,” Henry demands as he sinks his first finger in.
“I am,” Alex says, his voice shaking. He keeps dropping his gaze back and forth between Henry between his legs and the TV screen. Henry seems like an expert at this. He curls his finger exactly where Alex needs it, keeps his thrusts short and shallow, and grazes his teeth and lips along the most sensitive parts of Alex’s inner thighs. It’s like Alex can’t catch his breath.
Another finger joins the first, stretching Alex just as well, and soon a third comes. Henry has lived up to his promise and hasn’t touched his dick, but his fingers just barely brushing his prostate isn’t doing much to stave off Alex’s impending orgasm. Henry is so close to his dick anyway that his hot breath puffing against Alex’s cockhead is enough to make Alex’s toes curl in anticipation. He curls both hands in Henry’s hair again, tugging at the short blond strands, desperately focusing on Darth Vader on the screen in front of him instead of the literal sex god between his legs in hopes that it’ll turn him on any less.
“You still feel so tight,” Henry murmurs against Alex’s knee, curling and stretching his three fingers.
“Don’t do this much,” Alex babbles, tugging Henry’s hair harder. “Not having sex with men. Bottoming, I mean. It’s good, just — don’t do it much.” He gasps as Henry nudges his prostate again. “Fuck, Henry, please get inside me.”
“Are you sure?”
“Sure as I am about Empire being the fucking best,” Alex groans. “Please.”
Henry hums, an amused sound. “You’ll be changing your tune soon enough,” he says, pulling his fingers out, “unless you can hold back for another hour and then some.”
A small, tortured sound escapes from Alex’s throat. He doesn’t know if he can. He really doesn’t know, and he’s not going to admit that to Henry anytime soon, but it’s going to take a goddamn miracle for his body to hold back for over another hour.
Alex’s legs slide off of Henry’s shoulders as Henry sits up on his knees, blocking the TV. Alex blinks. This isn’t exactly a prime position for someone to take a cock — not when your back is pressed against the headboard. “Um… how do you want to —”
“I’m going to sit where you are,” Henry cuts him off, “and you’re going to ride me.”
“Uh-huh. Yeah. Okay.” Alex falls silent as Henry sits next to him, a little off-center from the bed but still within view of the TV. “So are you gonna force me to look over my shoulder the whole time, or…?”
“No.” Henry nudges Alex’s hip until he sits up, then slides an arm around his waist, tugging him closer to his body. “You’re going to ride me, facing forward, and enjoy your favorite show…” His hand drops lower, shamelessly copping a feel, squeezing the globe of Alex’s ass, making him gasp. “...and I’m going to enjoy my favorite show.”
Alex lets out a shaky laugh, shuffling to straddle Henry without seeing him. “You’ve never had this show before,” he points out. “You don’t know if it’s your favorite.”
“Believe me.” Henry’s voice is rougher than it has been all night. He squeezes Alex’s ass with both hands, manipulating his cheeks in a slow, small circle. “I know.”
Alex is a damn good lawyer, but he’s not going to argue with that.
He waits as patiently as he can under Henry’s directions, watching as Ewoks capture Luke and the rest of his crew. He can hear the crinkle of a condom wrapper being torn open and the slick sounds of Henry spreading lube over himself, making his thighs quiver where he holds himself up. Henry makes these soft, breathless sounds as he touches himself, and it drives Alex crazy, trembling with need as an involuntary whimper escapes him.
“Easy, love,” Henry murmurs in his ear, causing that whimper to turn into a downright moan. Henry shushes him. Even that is sexy. “That’s it,” Henry continues, his hands finding Alex’s hips again and guiding him down until the tip of his condom-covered cock slides against Alex’s hole. “Take it at your own pace. You have…” Alex feels him shift to peek at the TV. “...about an hour on the dot.”
“Fucking hell,” Alex mutters under his breath. Okay, an hour. He just needs to ride Henry’s cock for a full hour. And not come. Easy.
He sinks down a couple inches and very quickly realizes that it’s not easy.
“Holy shit, you’re huge,” he gasps, dropping his head back to stare at the ceiling. He’s got the head of Henry’s cock inside of him and maybe another few inches, but he doesn’t even feel remotely close to taking all of it. His muscles clench, squeezing around Henry’s cock, and he hears Henry moan softly at the sensation. “Am I — oh —”
“Keep going,” Henry says firmly, tightening his hold on Alex’s hips. “You’re doing wonderfully. Don’t stop watching.”
“Right, fuck.” Alex straightens up, trying to collect himself. He takes a few deep breaths, then sinks down again, his mouth dropping open in a soundless moan as Henry completely fills him. He’s bigger than any guy Alex has been with, and while the sensation is new, it’s not unpleasant — hell, it’s downright addicting. Jesus fucking Christ.
He finally feels Henry’s strong thighs flush against his ass, and he clenches again as he moans, rolling his hips softly. He can hear Henry’s soft, staccato gasps behind him. “Holy shit, baby.”
Henry’s response comes in a loud whine, the most he’s heard of Henry all night. Alex can’t help but laugh at himself, pride surging through his veins at finally cracking the surface of Henry’s poised facade. He rolls his hips again. “You like that, baby?”
“Quite,” Henry manages, digging his fingers into Alex’s skin.
Alex allows himself a few more precursory grinds before rising a few inches off of Henry’s cock and sinking back down. Their answering groans mix together in the thick air. Warm, wet kisses suddenly tickle the back of Alex’s neck. He sighs and leans closer into Henry’s touch. “You feel good.”
“Do I?” Henry groans against Alex’s shoulder. He presses a kiss there. “You’re being very good for me.”
“Fuck, not fair,” Alex protests, his words dissolving into a whine. He starts to build a slow rhythm, bouncing up and down Henry’s dick.
“It’s perfectly fair,” Henry retorts with a firm squeeze to Alex’s ass.
“No, it’s —” Alex cuts himself off as he sinks back down, unknowingly finding the perfect angle where Henry’s cock nails his prostate dead-on. A strangled moan emerges deep from his chest, his hands scrabbling for something to hold onto, finally setting for the skin of his own thighs. “Oh my God, there. Right there.”
Henry chuckles. “That was quick.”
“Yeah.” Alex moves a little faster now, short moans punching out of him with each bounce. “I mean — no, I — oh, sweetheart, there.”
Both of Henry’s hands find Alex’s ass again, squeezing and kneading his cheeks like the most expert of bakers. “Keep going, darling.”
Oh, this is going to be over embarrassingly quickly, and Alex knows it. He’ll be lucky to last even ten more minutes with Henry’s cock pressing so perfectly against his prostate. Fuck, he got matched with the most beautiful man on earth, got taken to bed by him, and is going to blow his load minutes after sitting on his cock, and worst of all, he’s going to lose the fucking bet because of it. “Henry…”
“Alex.” Henry’s lips are wet where they brush against his ear. “You’re exquisite, darling, please tell me you know that. And your arse… Christ, it’s a marvel. Next time, I want you sitting on my face, and I want to take every second of time I have with you to worship your arse.”
“Oh my God,” Alex slurs. He fights to keep his eyes open, staring at the TV. “You — you can’t say shit like that,” he practically begs.
“No?” Henry, impossibly so, leans in even closer. “Why not? Because you’ll come?”
“N-No.”
“Put your money where that filthy mouth is, darling.”
Alex moans again, bouncing harder, his motions sporadic. His own cock is throbbing despite not being touched once since Henry sucked him off, and Alex fears he may come untouched. Somehow, that’s even more humiliating than coming before the movie is over. He whines, long and loud in his throat.
Henry keeps fondling his ass and kissing the back of his neck and driving Alex absolutely fucking nuts. His body feels like it’s moving on its own accord by now, completely detached from Alex’s brain, dead set on chasing pleasure until it builds and builds and eventually overflows with a mind-blowing orgasm — whether he wants it to or not.
“Henry, I’m —” The words catch in Alex’s throat. He slams his prostate against Henry’s cock again. “Henry…”
“Are you close?”
“I — I — God.” His body is betraying him, and he hates it, even if it feels better than anything else before. He scratches his nails down his thighs again; surely there will be red marks tomorrow morning. “I’m gonna… fuck…”
“It’s okay, Alex.” Henry kisses the hinge of his jaw, his teeth grazing the bone. “You know what must happen if you come, however.”
“I know,” Alex practically wails, dropping his head to Henry’s shoulder and shoving his ass back against his cock. “I know, I know, and — fuck, I’m gonna come, I can’t wait, need you to touch me.”
“If you want me to touch you,” Henry pants, thrusting his hips shallowly to keep giving Alex some much-needed friction, “then you need to say it.”
“Fuck, okay!” Alex cries. “It’s — it’s better, fine, now please —”
“What is better?”
“Jedi! Jedi, you fucker, Return of the Jedi is better than Empire, so just fucking touch me already.”
He gasps as Henry’s hand wraps around his weeping cock, somehow still slicked with lube, and begins to pump slowly. “I’m glad we can reach an agreement,” he says. “Now tell me why.”
“What?”
“Tell me why, Alex,” Henry repeats, his voice ending in a growl. “Surely, you have reasons to back up your claim. You are a lawyer, are you not?”
“Yeah,” Alex chokes out. “Okay, it’s — fuck, it’s a happy ending, it’s… redemption and everything — oh, shit, baby, yeah — and, um — it’s cheesy —”
A sharp swat to his ass cuts Alex off with a gasp. “That’s not a compliment.”
“I meant in a good way, swear — it’s all about love and reunions and — and —” A particularly strong thrust leaves Alex reeling. “Fuck, Henry, I’m — God!”
His orgasm slams into him harder than any hit he took during his lacrosse years. His cock twitches madly in Henry’s gasp before he comes, streaks of white shooting out and dribbling over Henry’s fist. Alex can’t hear, can’t see, can’t think; all he feels is the white-hot pleasure coursing through his veins and the piston of Henry’s cock inside of him as Henry forces him to keep riding, drawing out the orgasm as much as possible. It’s so good it borders on the perfect line of pleasure and pain, that hazy, fuzzy feeling that turns Alex’s brain into a puddle and drops his mouth open from shameless, deep moans that he can barely hear.
He starts to come back to himself after God knows how long, now acutely aware of the noises he’s making and the way his head has lolled back on Henry’s shoulder. His cock gives one more faithful attempt, spurting out a dribble of come before it gives up. He pants against Henry’s neck, blinking blearily as the all-consuming pleasure begins to fade. “Fucking hell.”
Henry chuckles. “That good?”
“Fuckin’ obviously,” Alex slurs, laughing himself. The laughter must affect the muscles in his body, however, including the muscles squeezing around Henry’s cock, because Henry gasps sharply and thrusts forward, seemingly on instinct. That shuts Alex up pretty quick.
“You’re still hard?” he mumbles.
Henry shivers against him, squeezing his hip. “Don’t worry about me.”
“But I am.” He wiggles his ass back against Henry, who moans at the sensation. “C’mon, baby, fuck me. Wanna feel you come, too.”
Henry’s fingers curl tighter against his hip. “You’re not too sensitive?”
“No.” Alex shakes his head. “C’mon, give it to me.”
He tilts his head even further back, enough to nudge his nose against Henry’s, who thankfully takes the hint. He seals their mouths together at the same time as he thrusts his hips forward, tumbling a groan out of Alex’s lips. The kiss is messy, the angle is awkward, but Henry’s tongue is in his mouth and he’s fucking him like he’s physically incapable of doing anything else. God, Alex feels so fucking adored.
It doesn’t take Henry that long to come himself, and Alex grins into the kiss, the knowledge that he affects Henry just as much as Henry affects him doing nothing to suppress his ego. Henry pushes deep inside of him with a moan, and then a breathless, little laugh falls from his lips. This Prince Charming lookalike laughs when he comes. Alex is pretty certain that test score just ticked up to 99.9% compatible.
Henry pulls away from the kiss to catch his breath, slumping against Alex’s back. “Fuck, you’re incredible,” he manages. It’s the first time he’s sworn all night, and Alex can’t deny the little flip his stomach does at hearing something so vulgar in such a posh voice.
Alex snuggles closer to Henry. “I can’t believe you fucked me until I said Jedi was better.”
“You just came to the right conclusion, darling.”
“Yeah, well, I take it back now. I mean, what does Jedi really have? Nothing but Ewoks.”
“Hey,” Henry huffs, “Ewoks are iconic.”
“Ewoks are stupid.”
“Take that argument to Reddit and see how you do.”
“What, are you just gonna threaten to fuck me again? Done and done, baby.”
Henry chuckles. “How long are you on holiday for?”
“Another week, more or less,” Alex says, tracing patterns on Henry’s forearm where it’s still wrapped around his waist. “Why?”
“No reason,” Henry shrugs, feigning nonchalance. “Only… we could do this again sometime. Perhaps the other way around… perhaps with Empire in the background.”
“Star Wars kink, got it.”
“Oi,” Henry shoots back, “I’m giving you an offer. Take the bait.”
Alex inches his face closer to Henry’s again. “Obviously, dumbass. C’mon, kiss me again.”
Alex doesn’t make it back to his hotel room that night. Nor does he for the rest of the week, for that matter. He hopes Henry’s neighbors enjoy Star Wars.