“Hey, baby,” Alex calls from the hallway as he rounds the top of the second floor in the brownstone. “You’ve gotta hear this new Adam Lambert song.”
Henry has been holed up in his study all afternoon trying to figure out some issue with an expansion of the Brooklyn shelter. They’ve been fighting the city over permits to make alterations to the empty building they bought next door to the current location.
When Alex reaches the study door, which is ajar, he pushes it open slowly.
“Hen?” Alex cranes his neck around the door to see Henry leaning over the desk, elbows braced against the dark wood and head cradled in his hands. Henry merely groans in response. “Baby, what’s wrong?”
“It’s this issue with the goddamn city permits,” Henry says, throwing his hands up helplessly. “We were supposed to have them by now and we’re being given the run-around by the bloody DOB and I just… we have kids waiting for rooms. Some are even doubling up and sleeping on air mattresses, so we need the extra rooms now and we can’t do a single thing until they approve our building plans.”
“I’m sorry, sweetheart. I thought you said this would go quickly?”
“Well, it’s a historical building, so they said we could make the changes we needed as long as we didn’t alter the structure of the building itself. They approved our plans on the shelter so quickly and I’m not sure if we just got lucky then, or if they’re f*cking with us now, but I’m bloody well over it. I’ve already spoken to three different people in that office and I’m convinced they’re all incompetent.”
Alex rubs Henry’s back in soothing circles, trying to quell the arousal that rises whenever Henry gets worked up like this. It’s not often his temper comes out, but when he starts cursing and getting all authoritative, it does things to Alex that it probably shouldn’t. At least not in this context.
“Hey, I know what you need,” Alex says. He’s got his phone out and he’s pushing play on “Lube” before Henry can object. “Listen to this song, it’s hysterical and hot and so f*cking gay I can’t even listen to it without popping a semi.”
The lyrics start emitting tinnily from the speaker on Alex’s phone and he knows he’s got to play this on the big speakers downstairs next time they have a moment.
Slip in the room
Slip right into you
Faded and loose
Trip to the moon
Lavender blue
Dripping on you
“I’m sorry, love, I really can’t focus on this right now,” Henry sighs, rubbing a hand down his face. It’s a dismissal if Alex ever heard one. He stops the song and presses a kiss to Henry’s temple just as Henry’s phone starts to buzz. Henry picks it up and answers, giving Alex an apologetic smile as he retreats back into the hallway, closing the door behind him.
By Friday night, Alex has a plan. When Heny walks in the door just before dinner, Alex greets him at the door with a kiss.
“How was work?”
Henry sighs heavily, leaning onto Alex’s shoulder and pulling him into his arms.
“More fighting with the city planner. I think we’re finally getting somewhere. I managed to get someone new on the line today, and they promised we’d have an answer next week.” Henry pulls back. “Of course, we’ve heard that before, but…”
“Fingers crossed, right?” Alex smiles, and Henry mirrors it as best he can. “So listen. I made plans for us.”
“What kind of plans?”
“Don’t look at me like that, Fox. Me and you,” Alex says with a pointed finger to Henry’s chest. “Are going out tonight.”
“Oh, Alex, I really don’t think I’m up for that.” Henry toes off his shoes and removes his coat to hang on the rack by the door. Alex leads him by the hand into the kitchen where he’s got dinner ready.
“Come on, baby. You need to blow off some steam, I need a night out with my boyfriend, and Pez said he hasn’t had a non-work-related conversation with you in weeks.”
“Pez is coming?” Henry’s eyes light up a fraction.
“Why do you seem more excited about him than me?”
“It’s just…” Henry steps forward and wraps his arms around Alex’s waist again. “You know I love spending time with you. But Pez came into town to help me deal with this issue and that’s literally all we’ve talked about since he’s been here. It might be nice to have a night out with my friend and my gorgeous boyfriend.”
“That’s what I’m saying, baby,” Alex grins, leaning up for another kiss.
Henry is drunk. And not like when he lets himself have one more glass of wine with dinner than usual, or when Alex drags him out on a weeknight and to talk about their days over gin and tonics; Henry is four vodka shots in and sipping on a large pink drink called a Kinky co*cksucker, and he’s almost falling over laughing with Pez. Alex is on his way back from the bathroom when he pauses to appreciate the scene, falling a bit more in love with Henry as he throws his head back, one hand braced on Pez’s shoulder.
As Alex approaches, Henry takes the penis-shaped straw in his mouth and sucks down half the drink in one go. Alex steps up to Henry’s side, placing a kiss on his cheek and leaning towards Pez.
“What did I miss?”
As Pez fills Alex in on the story he was telling, Alex feels Henry’s hand slide from his shoulder down to his ass, resting there for a moment before squeezing a bit. Alex laughs at Pez’s story and downs the rest of his whiskey that’s still sitting on the bar.
“Hey baby, do you wanna dance?” Alex asks, fixing his eyes on Henry. The three of them have been telling stories and catching up for a few hours now and Alex is ready to have Henry to himself for a bit. It says something that Henry nods enthusiastically, his cheeks flushed and his blue eyes so f*cking bright it makes Alex’s heart clench. He nods at Pez. “You coming?”
“Nah, you go ahead. I’ve got my eye on a pretty thing over there,” Pez winks, pointing down the other end of the bar. Alex follows his finger and feels his eyebrows lift.
“Have fun, then.”
“Of course, darlings,” Pez grins. And with that, Alex is pulling Henry to the dance floor.
Alex is thankful that they found this bar. It’s the perfect combination of a bougie gay bar and a campy gay club. They have silly, colorful drinks on their Queertails list, which all come with penis straws, but Alex and Henry can also come here for a drink after work during the week and get well-made old fashioneds and gin & tonics and have a quiet conversation about their day. They’ve become such regulars that none of the rest of the clientele ever really bat an eye at the former first son and a prince coming in. Their security teams know the place front to back, including every single exit. This all allows Alex and Henry to come here and truly let loose from time to time. It’s the perfect neighborhood bar and Alex knows how incredibly lucky they are to have this place so close to home.
He pulls Henry in close, slotting their legs together, as he lets his hands rest on Henry’s shoulders. Henry wraps his arms around Alex's waist, accustomed to this routine by now. Once Alex convinced Henry that he does know how to move his hips, and after doing this so many times now, Henry actually enjoys dancing with Alex here. The anonymity provided by strobing lights and a sea of writhing, sweaty bodies is the perfect place for Henry to let loose.
And Henry is f*cking loose tonight. He’s moving easily with his eyes either fixed on Alex’s face or closed with his head tipped back as he dances to the music. The DJ tonight is really good, too, playing a mix of classics from Alex’s youth and newer songs, interspersed with crowd-pleasing queer anthems.
They dance together for a while, both relaxed and enjoying their night out. Alex is half hard in his jeans and he knows Henry is too, from where he keeps brushing against Alex’s hip. But they’re content to just keep dancing, grinding together a little bit, wrapped up in each other and the flashing lights.
When the song transitions from “Dancing on my Own” by Robyn into “Lube,” by Adam Lambert, a collective cheer emits up from the crowd.
“Baby, this is that song I was telling you about!” Alex yells in Henry’s ear. Henry just smiles at him and Alex isn’t sure if he’s been heard or not. “From the other day? Remember, I tried to play it for you?”
“I remember,” Henry says low in Alex’s ear, making him shiver. The beat is pumping and Adam is crooning.
No, we don't need no friction
We don't need to do it dry
Yeah, we can keep it liquid
Slide your body into mine
Alex is singing along to the lyrics – he’s had this on his running playlist all week – and Henry’s eyes darken, burning blue in the dim light. He brings their bodies flush from thigh to chest, hands sliding to Alex’s ass, grinding purposefully against him.
Pick up the pace, give and I take
Ridin' the wave
Show how you roll
Give you control
How deep can we go?
Henry’s eyes drop to Alex’s mouth and Alex can feel his heart racing. It seems insane that Henry can still affect him like this. Alex licks his lips, an invitation, and waits. When Henry finally closes the gap, it’s on the line, Be a good boy and lube it up. And then they’re making out and grinding against each other and Alex is about a minute away from coming in his pants. Somewhere in the back of his brain, he has the awareness that what they are doing is not appropriate in public.
The song shifts into the next, a seamless beat shift, and Alex pulls back, panting.
“Ready to go?” Henry asks, eyes dark and hand still cupping the back of Alex’s neck. Alex nods and then they’re waving goodbye to a grinning Pez as they head for the door. Their car pulls up to the curb within seconds of their exit, their security team close behind them. It’s less than ten minutes to their brownstone, but it feels like an eternity with Henry’s mouth attached to Alex’s neck and his hand moving slowly over the bulge in Alex’s jeans.
They step inside the brownstone and Henry attacks Alex before he’s even got his shoes off.
“Baby, hold on a sec,” Alex laughs, pulling away long enough to close and lock the front door behind them.
“No, need you now,” Henry slurs, pulling Alex against his body so he can lick hotly into Alex’s mouth. Alex returns his kiss as they begin peeling off their clothes and moving further into the house.
“Bedroom?”
“Too far,” Henry groans.
“We’re going to have to get upstairs eventually, baby. Won’t it be easier now rather than later, when you’re all f*cked out?” Henry whines so Alex pulls him back in, kissing him deeply before guiding him toward the stairs. “If we go up now, I’ll blow you after I f*ck you,” Alex whispers in Henry’s ear before nipping at his earlobe.
Henry shudders but turns and starts running up the stairs. Alex bursts out laughing and chases him up to the third floor. Henry pushes his pants off in the hallway outside the bedroom and his boxer briefs follow, giving Alex an eyeful as he bends over the side of their bed.
“f*ck, baby,” Alex groans. He grabs the lube from the nightstand and slicks up his fingers, pressing them into Henry with little preamble, making him cry out. “Sorry.”
“It’s good. More,” Henry moans.
“You’re drunk baby, I don’t want you to be hurting tomorrow.”
“‘M alright. Faster.” Henry pushes his ass back, impaling himself on Alex’s hand.
Alex opens Henry up as quickly as possible, brushing his prostate on every other pass. He and Henry have had plenty of fast, rough sex, but Alex refuses to rush prep too much.
“Ready,” Henry insists, spreading his legs further and dropping from his hands down to his elbows.
Alex lubes himself up and stands between Henry’s feet, pushing in slowly, letting him adjust. Henry, apparently, does not need to adjust. He begins writhing, immediately pushing back against Alex’s co*ck. Alex stays still for a moment, just watching Henry’s hips work as he f*cks himself. Henry is moaning and whimpering, unable to control his movements and Alex is transfixed. After a minute or two, Henry seems to become frustrated with Alex’s inactivity.
“f*ck me, love. Please,” he begs. And, well, Alex couldn’t possibly refuse that. He begins f*cking Henry hard, watching his head drop down to the sheets, his face turning sideways, flushed and gorgeous, his fists clenching the duvet with each thrust. He’ll never get over this view, although he does miss the chance to look into Henry’s incredible eyes. When it comes to sex with Henry, really, there is no bad position.
Alex f*cks Henry with deep, hard thrusts, until he’s whimpering and biting his lip. Alex drapes himself over Henry’s back, folding his right hand over Henry’s, linking their fingers together where they are gripping the sheets. He kisses Henry’s neck and shoulders, since he can’t reach his mouth.
When Henry’s whimpers become higher pitched, Alex knows he’s getting close.
“Come on, baby. Want you to come for me,” he pants in Henry’s ear. He releases Henry’s hand and slides his palm down to wrap around Henry’s co*ck. It only takes a couple of tugs before Henry is coming all over the sheets. The tightening of his ass around Alex’s dick is enough to send him over the edge and he comes with a reverent “baby” on his lips.
When Alex stops shaking, he stands up and slowly slips out, watching his come leak down Henry’s thighs. Henry groans at the loss, clenching around nothing.
“Come on, we should clean up,” Alex says, pressing an apologetic kiss to Henry’s tailbone.
“No,” Henry moans before mumbling something unintelligible.
“I can’t blow you if you don’t get up,” Alex reminds him in a singsong voice. Henry pushes himself to stand slowly, turning in Alex’s arms. Henry is always super relaxed when he’s f*cked out like this, but after drinking and dancing, it’s a bit like maneuvering a 6-foot ragdoll into the shower.
Henry is too sleepy for Alex to fulfill his promise of a post-f*ck blowj*b until morning, but Henry insists, through a sleepy, blissed out smile, that it was worth the wait.
