striketwice | reverie ⚡️ overflow

Mm, lucky me.

[ He really does want to see Henry on his knees, swallowing down as much of him as he can take. Fuck, that's a good mental image. He can hardly wait for the real thing.

One more pass of his thumb along Henry's lips. His gaze lingers on Henry's own for a moment, then, ]

If that's the case, then kneel for me.

[Well, then.

Is it possible for a look to be both piercing and vaguely playful? Henry is managing it, a pause passing between them at the request; not so much hesitation as a strange appreciation of a dynamic that he somehow only appreciates in Alec’s company.

After all, this is a large ask for him, someone whose pride has always flared up at loosing even a degree of actual control. Today, though, he is utterly enticed by the idea, by the nature of the request. ~~Today, the scary dog heels.~~

Finally, Henry slowly eases himself down to his knees, though his eyes never break from Alec’s face. His hands graze down the sides of his legs as he moves — he’s hesitant to give up even superficial touch.]

[ The mismatched eyes probably help the duality of that look. Alec isn't sure just what the look is going to lead to, but he's captivated by it all the same. A moment passes, Henry neither acts not rebuffs him. So, that must be progress, right?

It's so much more than that. Henry sinks lower, eyes locked on Alec, and where Alec might have felt victorious days or even mere hours ago, there is something about this moment, that gaze, that sends a tight coil of heat straight to his groin. Something that makes him go oh, yes. He's keenly aware of Henry's hands, those long fingers coasting along the seams of his jeans. ]

Just like that.

[ Low, quiet. His hand slides into Henry's hair again. ]

Now undress me.

[Now undress me. Henry’s hands linger where they are, fingertips light against the fabric of Alec’s pants, just barely there. The command doesn’t usher any urgency from him, but it does make him drift his fingers inward until they feel the line of his inseam — and then glide up until they drift just below his groin.

After that, it is a slow, slow drag of the back of his fingers across the fly of his pants, up towards the button. He tilts his head upwards, just ever so slightly higher, feeling those fingers in his hair.]

Do you enjoy bossing me around, Alec?

[ No, of course it would be too easy to have Henry bend to his every word. No matter how compliant he's feeling, he's still Henry, and though the motions of his hands show some shades of doing as told, he's taking his dear sweet time about it.

Well, Alec can appreciate a bit off build-up. Henry still looks so very sweet kneeling like that, his head tilted just so. ]

Maybe a little. But only like this.

[He thinks, maybe, that Alec does not quite understand the full depth of the sway he holds over him. Henry might always dig his feet in, courtesy of his controlling nature, but at this point? He will consistently bend a little more to Alec; always give more leeway than he would ever think about giving anyone else.

But even if he did realize it, he still believes him: Alec would not take advantage of it. Only in the bedroom would he command him, or pull at his hair, or dominate him completely — and only because Henry somehow, insanely, likes it. Otherwise? His agency is still his own.

And that makes him feel… something unquantifiable. Something he cannot hold up and compare to another sentiment, because he’s not quite sure he’s ever felt it before.]

Only like this. [He echoes in a murmur, and his fingers are suddenly less languid about unbuttoning Alec’s pants, undoing the zipper and freeing up the fabric around his hips. He tugs it downward, gentle.]

[ Oh. It seems he's said the magic words. Perhaps all Henry needed was a bit of assurance that this is as far as Alec bossing him around goes. In which case, Alec feels a bit bad for not giving voice to it sooner, but what's done is done. Henry knows now.

His jeans fall loose around his hips and Henry eases them away, leaving him to strain, half hard, against the fabric of his underwear. He hums in approval, fingers carding through Henry's hair. ]

Keep going.

[The denim crumples at Alec’s feet, at Henry’s knees. It might as well be altogether forgotten, because now he’s too busy appreciating that bulge pressing against the fabric of Alec’s underwear, the line of him already half-hard from anticipation. He drifts his fingers up and along those contours, suddenly caught between wanting to take his time with him, and wanting to adhere to exactly what he says.

Ultimately, he decides that even that thin fabric needs to go, and slides his underwear down, letting it drop and freeing his arousal completely. To be appreciated from a decidedly new angle.

Henry doesn’t wait to be asked this time. He wants to touch him, never mind what else follows — he reaches up and wraps his long fingers around Alec’s shaft, his face still tilted up to gauge his reaction.]

Already eager.

[(As if Henry isn’t; like there isn’t a bulge between his legs, as well, only less prominent because he still has all of his clothes on.)]

[ Oh, those fingers. Every time they've fallen into bed together, Alec has found a new way to appreciate Henry's fingers. Even now, the way they explore the line of his arousal through the fabric, the way they hook into the waistband of his underwear and draw it away sends a thrill through him.

And when Henry's fingers at last close around him, he breathes out a soft little groan. Alec's eyes flutter closed for a second, lost in the sensation. ]

Of course I am.

[ Like he could hide it at this point. His own fingers curl into Henry's hair, grip firm but not pulling. Not yet. ]

You look so good down there.

[Those fingers in his hair almost feel like a promise of something more, and it always incites a little thrill, a little shiver that tries to run down the line of his back.]

What was it you said? My lips around your cock? I’m sure you’ll like that view even more.

[He smiles almost too peaceably for saying something so lewd, dragging his palm and curled fingers slowly up Alec’s length, warm and present. They’ve only just started, and the other man’s hardly lubed up enough for Henry to be really self-indulgent with his touches, but he can spoil himself just a little. Feel him harden by degrees in his hand.]

Tell me what you want next.

[We’re back to accepting commands now. He likes to hear the words.]

I'm sure I will.

[ He watches Henry with half-lidded eyes, watches those fingers he's come to adore so much travel the length of him. Even dry, the warmth and the pressure is welcome. His pulse jumps and a low noise rumbles up from somewhere deep in Alec's chest.

This certainly isn't exactly how he expected this encounter to go, with Henry somehow amenable to taking commands, but fuck, he likes it. ]

Kiss me. Taste me. I want to feel your mouth.

[Did they ever expect to find themselves wound up in each other like this? Likely not. Henry willingly kneeling for Alec, taking commands with minimal pushback and eager to take him into his mouth is really just par the course at this point.

He’s decided he loves Alec saying such uniquely vulgar things, but he won’t make him ask again. He wonders if it should be so simple, if he can just keep him held in the warmth of his palm, lean in close, and press a warm, lingering kiss on the head of his cock—

He wets his lips at the thought, and then does exactly that.]

[ No. If someone would have told Alec when he first got here that this is the situation he'd end up in, he would have laughed and probably decked them for their trouble. This connection he and Henry share has gone far beyond the physical, treading dangerously into trust and many things beyond.

Case in point, Henry does as he's bid for the third time in this interaction, and Alec's pulse jumps. The sweet warmth of the other's lips on the tip of his cock is utterly perfect and yet not nearly enough. He's been hung up on what the heat of Henry's mouth would feel around him for a while, and now that it's so close, he can barely stand it.

His fingers in Henry's hair flex, gripping tighter briefly. ]

Fuck, Henry. Give me more.

[Oh, that grip on his hair again. Tight, though ever so brief. Henry makes a low sound as he draws back, running his tongue across his bottom lip to taste the faint, salty tang of Alec there.]

In good time.

[Always waffling between taking orders, versus taking orders while taking his time with them. But to be far, he wants to relish every reaction, wants to indulge himself a little, too. Alec must want to feel his whole mouth wrapped around him—and he will—but what’s the grand hurry?

For now, he leans in, and draws the wetness of his tongue up the underside of Alec’s cock. Slowly.]

[ Ah, there it is. That bit of defiance that is so very Henry — master of malicious compliance when he wants to be. Alec huffs out an amused sound, clearly not as put out by it as he could be. He is all too happy to let Henry explore, to learn him from this new angle. At least for now.

And explore he does. The slow pass of Henry’s tongue along his length does things to him, makes him groan, his stomach winding tight with anticipation. ]

Haaah, enjoying yourself?

[ This is going to be a test of his patience, isn’t it? ]

[Henry doesn’t reply at first. When his tongue slides from base to tip, it then lingers at the head of Alec’s cock, before his lips seal over it in another slow—almost lazy—kiss. Mm-hmm, he answers in a hum, in a way that purposefully draws out each syllable so that Alec can feel the reverberations of each one.

One might get the sense that Henry is more than willing to take his torturous time with him; give him the benefit of the doubt, and maybe it’s because this is a new experience, a new act for him, never mind his eager willingness.

But Alec probably knows Henry well enough by now to guess that he’s just being difficult. Even on his knees, he can exert a little bit of his own brand of control.]

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