Archive of Our Own

Alex can’t remember why he’d started growing out his hair. It’s probably the result of a missed haircut leading into growing laziness about the whole ordeal, or maybe (more likely) his latest messy attempt at individualism. Something about his dislike of the music industry and its carefully crafted personas that, ironically, kickstarted his own career and launched him acne-face first into stardom. He wonders what level of meta he’s on now, with all of his persona crafting. Is his hair a rebellion or a cliquè he’s trying to fill? What even is irony? Should he get the scissors? 

And this is why, he silently fumes, his hair is a problem. He twirls a strand around his index. It makes him wonder about the wrong things. He’s supposed to be working. 

Joshua Homme is beside him in the recording studio, fiddling with the levels on the soundboard as Alex pours over lyrics. Alex doesn’t usually like other people being around when he’s in such a sensitive state of mind, trying to delicately get all the right words to connect with the melody they’d been working on for weeks now, but Josh is alright. He seems to be in his own world the same as Alex, his tattooed fingers pushing sliders up and down, brow furrowed, thinking broodily to himself. 

There it is again. Another distraction. Alex wrenches his eyes away from Josh to look down at his notebook. 

Words. Chords. Rhyme. Well, if he moves that line here, waits for the big emotional reveal the same time the guitar gets louder there… 

Hair falls in his face again and obscures his words, breaking his concentration and his spirit. “That’s it,” he fumes aloud, slamming his notebook shut. “I’m cutting all my hair off.” 

“Don’t,” says Josh, not looking up from fiddling with the levels. “I like it, suits you.”

Alex nods even though Josh isn’t looking at him. Yeah. Okay. Alex, again, twirls a strand around his finger. He could keep it. 

Working with Josh is like nothing Alex has ever experienced before. The man is loud, brash, and undeniably American, all things that Alex isn’t used to or hasn’t, in the past, wanted to be around. But Josh is smart, he knows music just as well as he knows people. This means he often sits in the studio with his arms crossed, telling Alex with perfect confidence the exact word which had escaped his tongue and that which would take a chorus from passable to incredible. It’s happened more than once. His confidence– well, it’s something to behold. 

One day, Alex is strumming away on his acoustic guitar, working something out from deep within the confines of his brain, when Josh walks over to listen. After a second, he grabs the guitar and lifts it straight out of Alex’s hands, the strap hitting the edge of Alex’s face as Josh stands over him. 

“Try this,” he says, and plucks out the exact melody Alex was trying to get at.

Alex blinks up at him. Josh stares at the fretboard as he figures out the notes but once he gets the hang of his point, he looks back down at Alex. His gaze is heated, his grin bordering on shit-eating. But it’s not overly proud or gloating because it’s Josh, and Josh is just trying to help and is happy when he’s successful. 

Alex still gulps. From this angle, Josh looks like a giant, and the guitar looks like a weapon he could crash over Alex’s head at any moment. 

But the moment passes. Josh nods to himself and places the guitar gently back in Alex’s lap. 

“Just an idea,” he downplays as Alex looks at his guitar, dumb-struck, like how could you betray me but play so perfectly for him? 

“No, it’s– that’s right,” says Alex. He’s already seeing the progression in his head, the rest of the song unfurling like a map. 

Josh barks a laugh, and really, bark is the correct word. Then he walks back off to wherever he was going originally, but not before ruffling Alex’s hair. And ruffle isn’t exactly the correct word– Josh’s big, calloused palm pushes through the hair at the top of Alex’s head, mussing it, dragging his fingers along his scalp for only a quarter of a second and pushing Alex’s head backwards. But his touch gets burned there like hot steel, the way his fingers curled and tugged just before he retracts his hand and walks off. 

Alex sits there and watches him go, hair flopped to the left, thinking about how easy it was for Josh to reach his head and wondering what could explain the flush that’d found its way to his cheeks. 

It isn’t just music that Josh seems to always get right. Somehow, it extends to parties, too. Josh seems to know all the right people, when all of the right things are happening, and he piles everyone he can fit into his black SUV (Alex and the band plus a few) and tells some of the other guys where to go one Saturday night. 

“You lads ever been to a real LA party?” Josh asks after turning the key, the expensive, sleek car purring to life. He directs the question mostly to Matt in the passenger seat, but his sunglassed eyes catch Alex’s in the mirror. And it’s a whole other ordeal how Josh likes to tease the Monkeys about their accents and slang, something else that Alex was growing used to but still annoyed him– when it was anyone other than Josh saying it. He makes it sound jovial, innocent but funny. Alex, honestly, is in a bit of awe. 

“Nah,” Alex answers. 

Josh winks at him in the mirror. “You’re in for a treat.” 

Alex spends the car ride watching the countryside go past, which turns to traffic-blocked highways, which turns to streets of the most obscenely lavish houses. Alex gawks at the huge, palm tree and sports car studded mansions, most of them hidden behind intricately welded gates. It’s amazing how much money these people must spend on gates alone, Alex wonders, mouth slightly agape. And it’s not like Alex hasn’t seen luxury before, but he’s never been this up close and personal with the particular Californian brand of it. Everything demands his attention, even the hedges. 

The rest of the band seem to feel the same way. Matt keeps pointing out all the luxury-brand cars on the street and in driveways that he can name, Jamie jumping in with the few Matt forgets, and Nick is similarly silently transfixed as Alex. Josh keeps chuckling from the driver’s seat. 

It’s already pretty dark, but Alex can still see the imposing white figure of the house that Josh slows in front of. This one has got the gates open and cars spilling out of its driveway. Definitely a party, and a big one. Alex isn’t sure what he expected, but with the reality of the situation looking him in the face, he still finds it in himself to be disbelieving. Everything in LA has the glamor of being unreal. This house is no different. 

Still, he gets out of the car when everyone does. He must look particularly unsure, though, because Josh swings his keys around on his finger before settling one big, strong arm over Alex’s shoulders. Alex almost buckles with the weight. 

“It’ll be fun, my little British friend,” Josh rumbles, and Alex just grins, reassured despite himself. “Let’s just go and have a few drinks.” 

There’s music blasting in the house, but the loudness is curtailed by the openness and largeness of everything. Before Alex even steps a foot in the house he’s backfired by the magnitude of the open space, of all the windows and white tile and sleek hardwood. It’s classy and tasteless. It’s expensive and loud and horribly American. Alex is overstimulated by the antithesis. 

His band rushes off eagerly into the mass of people in the foyer, swaying instead of dancing and drinking instead of talking. Josh takes his arm off Alex’s shoulders when they get inside and immediately Alex misses the steadiness, the warmth. He already feels drunk a second after stepping into this place, so therefore the only thing to do is make that feeling a reality. 

He wanders through the open-concept, bright lights mounted on wooden walls lighting his path to the drinks which have got to be somewhere. He really doesn’t know where he’s going, all of the faces have suddenly become unfamiliar. People crowd the sides of the room, some huddled in groups or coupled up, drinking, laughing. The music is louder now that Alex is further into the house. It occurs to him that he doesn’t know what this party is for or who’s throwing it, if he’ll get recognized or thrown out. 

This train of thought is interrupted by his discovery of the kitchen. There, on the marble island underneath big hanging lights, is the most impressive array of alcohol Alex has seen in his life. Alex has seen many arrays of alcohol, so he feels pretty qualified to make this call. He approaches, looks around for anyone he knows because surely the band has gravitated towards the booze just like Alex has, but he’s still alone amongst too many dressed-up faces. 

Alex goes over to survey. It’s a bit darker in the kitchen, so once he makes his way over, he catches sight of a young couple making out, hot and heavy, in the shadows next to the fridge. Strangely, it’s a grounding sight. Alex is familiar with this at parties. He grabs a beer from the cooler because the sight of all the fruity, unlabeled pitchers stresses him out. 

The music cuts, but the general din of the party does not. From somewhere further into the mass of bodies beyond the kitchen, a round of “happy birthday” singing breaks out. 

Alex uncaps his beer. Josh appears beside him. 

“It’s always someone’s birthday,” Josh explains, a plastic cup in his hand. Alex watches him fill it with one of the suspicious fruity mixtures. 

The music starts up again once the partygoers cheer their celebration. It’s a heavier beat, a real deep oonz-oonz pumping over the speakers that Alex has yet to catch actual sight of but infers that must be there. He drinks his beer. Josh tries his own drink and grimaces.

“Everyone here’s real nice, I promise. If you’re looking for a dance or some conversation, I’m sure anybody would be willing to help you out.” Josh puts his plastic cup down with a distasteful look and instead reaches for a beer. As he does, he passes Alex who’s still standing in front of the cooler. Josh’s hand runs ever so slightly along the small of Alex’s back as he gently maneuvers him out of the way. It’s electricity. Alex doesn’t know what’s coming over him but he takes a big swig of his own drink to cover it up. 

Josh, a sweating beer bottle now in his hand, retreats from Alex. A silence (a silence full of the sounds of other people, but between them, a silence) falls. 

“I don’t know anyone,” says Alex, suddenly aware that he should probably say something because he hasn’t spoken a word since they’d gotten here. 

But it isn’t the right thing to say because Josh only laughs. “Try and get to know ‘em. And if it’s not working out, you know where to find me.” 

Alex does not know. Josh walks off anyway, a saunter, not before pointing to the kissing couple in an offensively obvious way and sending Alex one last grinning glance, like take a look at these guys! before disappearing into the crowd. It shouldn’t be possible how fast Josh disappears, he’s a giant. But he disappears nonetheless and Alex is alone– except the thousands of dancing, sweating bodies that have seemed to have multiplied in the time it took to get a drink and talk to Josh. 

Alex begins to walk. He passes rooms full of people with fake plants in every corner, walks past spinning mini disco lights, past a second, smaller drinks station. He even finds Jamie at one point, but he’s leaning heavily on a door frame with his attention captured by the contents of his red Solo cup and a pretty bird and the contents of her pretty summer dress. Alex figures his interruption would not be welcomed and would instead be largely pathetic. He walks on. 

It seems to get darker the further he walks, although he’s not certain he’s walking any further into the party. It might just be getting darker outside. Or, Alex’s vision itself is beginning to dim, brought on by the thick curtain of hair that insists upon curling around his face. The LA party is intriguing, full of a life Alex has never seen before. But it’s mostly gaudy and loud and suddenly he really needs an escape. 

“Hi,” says a drunk girl, inserting herself firmly in Alex’s way. She’s not in his space, not exactly, and she’s got an inebriated, free grin on her face. “There’s a photobooth. Do you wanna take pictures?” 

Alex is thrown off. “I… look, I’m sorry–” 

The girl pouts. She’s pretty in a particularly photographable way, plump lips, white teeth. “Aw, come on. You’re cute. We could take good pictures.” 

“Thank you,” Alex says, severely out of his depth– but why should he be? He can talk to girls, especially pretty ones that are flirting with him, it’s not like he hasn’t before. But this is bad. He flounders. “I don’t… um, swing that way.” 

“Oh.” She stumbles back a little. “Oh, my bad. I didn’t know.”

“It’s fine, really,” reassures Alex, his brain a mess of what did I just say what did I just say. 

“Okay. Whatever. Bye.” The girl gives him an uncoordinated wave, her face lopsided in confusion and slight rejection-sting. 

Alex almost wishes he could apologize for the words that tumbled out of his mouth but realizes that would not be in his best interest. It’s over. He stands there in shock for a moment. Suddenly he remembers that he still has his beer so he takes a sip, only to find that it tastes pretty gross, actually. It’s a brand he’s not familiar with. The taste isn’t doing anything for him and only serves to make him feel more lost, further from home. With a burst of clarity he remembers his original mission, get out of here, so he chucks it in a garbage can and continues his search through the bodies for the escape. 

No one else tries to talk to him. He finds his way back through the foyer and finds that the humid Californian air, warm even in the beginnings of night, is not much of a relief. He sighs into it anyway, clutching at the perfectly manicured bushes to his left for some sort of stability that they don’t offer. 

It’s quieter out here. He pushes his hair away from his face, finds there’s enough of it now to make a ponytail in his palm and thinks, not for the first time, that he should really cut it. 

He doesn’t know how long he stands there before Josh finds him. If he didn’t know any better, he’d begin to suspect he’s been followed. 

This time, Josh doesn’t acknowledge him right away and instead lights a cigarette. Alex realizes he doesn’t have his smokes and settles for watching Josh enjoy his.

“It’s not your scene,” Josh guesses accurately, tucking the cigarettes back in his pocket.

Alex nods, looks down at the bush he’s dragging his fingers through. The green leaves are slightly sticky on his hands. “I like parties,” Alex says, thinking of how Josh drove them out here to get them out of their heads. And here he was, firmly in his head, trying to escape the party. “It’s just…here, it’s not what I’m used to.” 

“Big homebody, aren’t you?” Josh says, and it sounds like it might have been a rib, but with Josh it wasn’t entirely clear. 

Alex agrees, either way. “Can’t help it, I’ve always been.” 

“And that’s what I like about you.” 

It startles Alex a little, to hear him say that. But he knows what Josh means. All these people… Alex looks over his shoulder, back inside at the party, and tries not to be too judgemental. He fails. None of this here feels honest. Not homey at all. 

“I dunno. I don’t like LA, it feels… so big and fake,”  Alex complains, too vulnerable, but it slips out. 

Josh laughs. Again. “Nope, that’s just the music industry, kiddo.” 

He might have a point, but Alex’s mind is immediately stuck on the fact that he's not a kiddo. He hates it when people call him that, or anything else to demean his art or hardwork. Josh doesn’t mean it like that, though. He makes it sound like an appealing thing to be. 

Josh’s cigarette is about halfway gone. He taps out ash and holds it out to Alex. “Noticed you left your cigs in the car. I’m almost out, wanna share?”

Alex hadn’t been looking for a smoke. But with Josh offering, he can’t think of a good reason to refuse. “Thanks.”

“What lovely manners!” Josh exclaims in a faux-British accent. It makes Alex smile around the cigarette which he now raises to his mouth. The end of it is a little wet. Alex doesn’t share cigarettes often because it makes him think about the fact he’s sharing saliva with another person. He’s thinking about that now. 

He tries to think of something else. “They’ve got a photobooth in there. For a house party.” 

“Photobooth?” Josh’s ears prick up. “Wow, Jeez. Where’d you hear about that?” 

“Oh. You know, around.” 

Josh gives him a look. It’s a dangerous sort of look, which is silly, because they’re only talking about photobooths at house parties. Leave it to Josh Homme to make photobooths seem dangerous. “Well, that sounds sorta fun. Don’t you think?” 

“Really?” Alex realizes belatedly that he is answering a question with a question. “I mean, maybe.” 

“Maybe? That’s the most ringing endorsement I’ve heard from you all night,” Josh says, reaching out to mess up Alex’s hair. Alex covers the flush of his cheeks by stubbing out the cigarette under his foot. “Seems like we’ve got to give the photobooth a try. Do you think they have fun props?” 

They learn a few minutes (and a racked-up total of about a half-dozen dancefloor drinks spilled) later that there are, in fact, no props. There is, however, a large red velvet curtained booth sitting in some not-so-out-of-way corner with a big sign in front saying “PHOTOS” with an arrow in case anyone was lost. 

Alex, looking at it, did feel a little lost. 

“Cozy,” said Josh with a big smile. Then he turns to Alex, the echoes of rainbow party lights criss-crossing on his face, throwing his handsome bone structure into sharp definition. It’s intimidating to have Josh’s full attention even in dim light. Alex feels undeserving of it and inexplicably nervous. “Ladies first.” 

“Rude,” Alex says, but leads the two of them in. He has to crouch through the low opening and duck through the curtain, but Josh is larger and has a bit more difficulty. 

The booth is tiny on the inside, Alex sees, with a bench, a screen, and a big red button. Now, the screen displays various promotional images, with some instructions on how to operate the booth. The instructions are pretty simple. Press the button. 

Alex gets squished into the corner. He looks over and Josh is rubbing his hands together excitedly. 

“Wow, jeez, this is nice,” Josh mutters, reaching up to slide the curtain closed. It only marginally softens the noise of the party, but it does a good job at concealing them from everyone else outside.

Alex wonders what the hell he’s doing here. 

“Let’s do a few, yeah?” Josh asks. 

Alex presses the button, and then there’s a count-down. He hadn’t anticipated a count-down, what was he supposed to do now? He smiles awkwardly, watching Josh do the same on the screen in front. 

The booth clicks, there’s a flash of light. Josh tsks when he looks over and sees Alex’s expression. “Don’t be so tense,” he says, putting his hand amicably on Alex’s thigh. This has the opposite effect; Alex stiffens. For some reason, though, Josh’s smile only gets bigger and he doesn’t take his hand off his thigh. Alex doesn’t ask him to or behave in any way to suggest he doesn’t want this. He doesn’t know why. He doesn’t know anything. His brain is fuzzy.

The next picture counts down from four. Alex tries to remember how he poses when someone asks to take his picture. He just… smiles, usually, but it seems his face forgot how to do that. 

He looks over, and Josh is still staring at him, still with that expression on his face. Still with his hand on his thigh. Alex snaps his gaze forward and the picture flashes, just like that.

A third one. There’s four pictures per sheet, and Alex is getting scared. Josh has him cornered, with a camera in his face and nowhere to go. Why did he agree to this? Whatever is happening in him, this strange reaction, it’s got no choice but to be captured on literal physical film, with Josh crowding him against the side of the booth on the tiny bench and his hand on his thigh. He feels claustrophobic. 

He puts up a peace sign, leaning into Josh. Josh’s body is like a furnace, God, was it the alcohol or the proximity? The camera flashes and Alex thinks he might have blinked. 

“Alright, now a silly one,” announces Josh.

Alex does not know what this means. He flounders, composure slipping, finding Josh’s face with wide eyes. 

Josh’s hand comes off his thigh. It might have been a relief, it feels like one for a moment, so he stares back at the counting-down screen. In perfect time to see Josh’s hand creep up and grab a handful of his hair. And tug. 

Alex’s vision whites out for a moment. He can’t help it. The proximity, the heat, Josh’s hand in his long hair and pulling while the camera counts down and Alex is gone. His body tells him, screaming in relief, that this is what he wanted, and he listens to it. 

The camera flashes on Alex half-lidded and lips parted. The picture is undeniable. He’s looking right at the camera while it appears he’s having an orgasm from a man putting his hand in his hair. 

Fear turns Alex’s body stone-cold. He looks over at Josh– terrified. 

Josh does not look terrified. He looks like he knows exactly what he’s doing. Alex thinks, deliriously, that thank God at least one of them does. 

“Do you like that?” Josh asks, like he’s genuinely curious. He doesn’t remove his hand from Alex’s hair. 

Alex is caught. He can’t deny it, obviously, the proof is blinking back at them on the screen and he’s sure his expression right now is no less humiliating. But he can’t agree, either. 

“Josh,” he says, quietly, because he’s got nothing else. 

Josh’s face curves into a smile. “You do, don’t you? Stop me if I’m wrong, but I think you like it when I touch your hair, play with it, comb through it like you’re some girl.”

Alex can’t breathe. His heart hurts with how fast it’s racing. 

“You like it when I pull,” Josh says, and then pulls. It’s only gentle, only slight, he’s clearly not trying to hurt. But it’s enough that Alex’s head falls back and the delightful pressure on his scalp forces a tiny sound out of him– not a moan, but close. 

Josh stops for a second, seemingly enchanted. He runs his fingers through Alex’s hair, gets a firmer grip, and pulls harder. Alex squeezes his eyes shut and the moan comes. 

“Fuck,” Josh says, like oh man, ain’t that interesting! or something else humiliatingly American and manly. Josh is so incredibly manly. Everything he does, the way he walks, his tattoos. Alex correctly identifies the feeling swirling in him as unadulterated lust. 

But he doesn’t know how to deal with that. He breathes hard through his nose, keeping his eyes welded shut. Josh’s other hand comes up to tap his cheek. 

“Hey,” Josh says. “Why don’t you come sit on my lap?” 

 He cracks open his eyes and finds Josh peering at him in a way that makes him want to shrink back, turn into stone. But he wants to do what Josh says more. He makes everything sound like a wonderful idea. 

To make his point clearer, Josh takes his hands off of Alex to settle back against the photo booth bench, tapping his thighs invitingly. “Come here,” he says. 

Alex crawls to him dutifully. Josh puts his hands on Alex’s waist and Alex shivers violently, making Josh chuckle. Josh maneuvers him so Alex is straddling his thighs, leaving Josh free to run his hands up and down Alex’s body to his heart’s content. 

Alex pants down into Josh’s face as the older man touches him, drags his hands up his chest, then down his back. He reaches Alex’s ass and lifts him a bit, gets his hands under it, squeezes the soft flesh. It’d be worshipful if it didn’t feel mostly greedy. 

“You’re a pretty little thing, ain’t ya?” Josh says, making Alex gasp as he gropes at his ass. Alex steadies himself on Josh’s shoulders, arching into his touch, unable to keep a semblance of dignity as he enjoys being wanted in such a carnal way. 

Josh slips his hands up Alex’s shirt, allowing Alex to fall back onto his lap in the same instant. Alex’s eyes go wide as he feels Josh’s hardness against his own and then he whimpers as he feels Josh’s hands fly over his chest, his index fingers swirling around Alex’s nipples. “Yeah, you’re real pretty,” he murmurs, eying the growing bulge in the front of Alex’s jeans. 

Alex’s face is hot with embarrassment. But he doesn’t think there has ever been a time in his twenty-three years where he’s gotten aroused so quickly. His dick hurts in his jeans. He doesn’t know what to do with his hands. He puts them on Josh’s shoulders and watches Josh’s handsome face contort in lust. 

“Give me a kiss, yeah?” Josh suggests, putting a finger underneath Alex’s trouser waistband and dragging it along the bare skin of his hips. 

Alex can think of nothing better. He lets himself fall into a kiss, pressing his lips against Josh’s, tilting his head for a better angle. He feels a bit like a girl perched like this, on a man’s lap, with a man’s hands running up his sides. It’s a freeing feeling. He sighs, pushes his nose against Josh’s cheek, breaking the kiss in favor of breathing heavy against his face. 

Josh’s hand comes up to cup his cheek. Alex feels the calluses on his palm. “That’s it,” Josh says. He tilts Alex’s head up to look at him, and Alex does. Then, his hands, never content to stay in one place, travel down to grope Alex’s ass again, just so he can watch Alex gasp and writhe on his lap. 

And then, seemingly incensed by Alex’s constant wriggling, Josh leans forwards and attaches himself by the teeth to the soft skin of Alex’s neck. Alex whines, the loud sound torn out of him even as Josh only scrapes his teeth there, kisses him wetly. It’s the gesture. Alex’s head is swimming with his intoxicating submission.

“Josh,” Alex cries out, grinding his hips down to find friction and finding it. He moans again, the heat of their bodies confined to the photo booth making his clothes stick to his skin and his forehead begin to collect sweat. 

“So fucking pretty,” Josh says as he resurfaces, panting, pushing the long hair out of Alex’s face as he trembles at the touch. “Makes me wanna take a picture.”

And that’s an idea. Alex scrambles with his hand, blindly, behind him to find the button, leaning down to kiss Josh again while he does it. Josh chuckles into his mouth, puts his hands on Alex’s waist, encourages him to turn around for the camera.

Alex does, leaning against Josh’s chest, his face quirking up into a hazy smile as Josh presses his mouth against his neck. The booth clicks, flashing brightly, and Alex relaxes as Josh puts his hands under his shirt. 

Then Josh pushes gently at his back to coax him off his lap. Alex hops off, kneeling in the small spot beside Josh on the bench, parting his lips for the kiss he assumes is coming.

It does. But it also comes with Josh’s big hand reaching into his trousers, into his boxers. Alex groans and splays his legs wider, bucking his hips gently to allow Josh’s hand to curl around him entirely. 

Josh’s other hand comes up to tangle in Alex’s hair, pressing a kiss to Alex’s open mouth, currently too lax to fully participate. 

The camera snaps on them like that. 

Alex pants as Josh begins to stroke him. Although it’s an awkward angle, it manages to feel so good. Josh focuses his attention at the base of his cock, but he’s able to fit nearly the whole thing in his one hand. Josh kisses him again but Alex can’t move his mouth. He winds up with his head thrown back, sweaty hair clinging to his neck, Josh biting the spot where his throat meets his shoulder– which he’s able to reach because of the sagging neckline of Alex’s shirt.

Alex sees the flash behind his closed eyes. 

Then, lightning fast, Josh is standing, a hand on his belt. An invitation. “Wanna put that pretty mouth to use?” Josh asks, undoing his belt and putting one leg up on the bench.

Alex salivates, and Josh’s cock is in front of his face before he can even say, “yes, fuck yes.”

He opens his mouth for it, sticks his tongue out flat in the way he’s seen girls do– in porn, not in real life, but judging by Josh’s answering groan it works well enough– and Josh puts his dick on his tongue. 

The ever-present hand in his hair returns. Josh pulls him closer and Alex closes his lips, attempts valiantly at hallowing his cheeks, fluttering his eyelashes.

The camera flashes for the last time. Josh doesn’t stop, petting Alex’s head, pushing the hair out of his face again. 

“Have you ever done this before, sweetheart?” Josh asks, brushing his thumb all over Alex’s face. “With a man?”

Alex tries his best to shake his head with his mouth full of cock. He hasn’t. He hasn’t even felt the need to, not like this– the all-consuming need to be posed, placed, instructed by a man. Maybe it’s just Josh and his gravitational force. Alex goes half-lidded at the thought. 

“Well, you’re fucking good at it,” says Josh, pulling Alex’s hair back for the right angle to rock his hips in. “Innocent little thing. Wanted to put my cock in ya from the second I saw you staring at me all star-struck. And I’m not one for groupies.”

Alex was a bit star-struck. Still is. From the second he saw Josh on stage, it was pure adoration. He wanted to control crowds in that way, have people in awe of his giant presence. It didn’t become star-struckness until he met Josh and heard him talk and learned that Josh was just as large off-stage as he was on. The performance wasn’t faked. Josh is larger than life, burly, handsome. Alex has wanted nothing more than to be under his spell, the cause of his undivided attention. 

Right-now Alex tries his best not to choke. Josh is getting aggressive, but nothing Alex can’t handle. He wants to handle it, to show he can take it. But his eyes well up a little, and it scares him, the unexpectedness. 

Josh notices. He doesn’t pull out, only stops moving as his thumbs swipe under Alex’s eyes to catch the wetness. “Oh, it’s okay,” he says, sweetly cupping Alex’s chin once he’s wiped his tears. “You’re taking me so well now. I know you can do it.” 

Then Josh starts back up again, thrusting slow, and Alex’s throat makes horrible noises as it’s abused. The sound makes Alex moan. He likes when Josh fucks into his mouth, he likes it that there are tears in his eyes, he likes it that Josh sees his tears and doesn’t stop. It’s some loud masochistic part of him which he’d never been well acquainted with directing him now. 

Josh’s sweet words are the perfect antidote to any hurt. “Such a sweet boy. Never let a man touch you like this before, huh, you pretty thing? It’s hard to believe. Face like yours, body like yours. Big brown fucking eyes, fuck–” Josh groans as Alex gets it together and relaxes his throat enough that his nose is able to bump against the coarse hair of Josh’s crotch. Josh’s voice grows breathless, his exhales labored. “Bet every man out there wants to bend you over the nearest flat surface. The way they look at you, boy– shit, I’ve fucking seen it. Like they wanna put their hands all over you, their dirty, dirty fucking hands. They want to break you. But they can’t break you like I can.”

Alex’s world is rapidly narrowing into a few necessary senses and a sliver of eyesight. Josh’s dick is on the verge of making him choke, but he doesn’t pull off. He doesn’t have anywhere to go, really. And this idea of Josh breaking him sounds kind of lovely. 

Josh pulls out of his mouth, just in time before Alex starts coughing or puking or both, and his hand flies up and down the shaft. He’s biting his lip hard. Clearly, he’s very close. 

Alex sits there and pants as Josh jerks himself off. He’s a little disoriented, definitely separated from himself, but it’s good. He watches Josh hungrily. 

“Not in my hair,” Alex requests, remembering girlfriends, and the statement has Josh close his eyes hard and draw his eyebrows in.

“ Not in your hair , you’re such a fucking girl, Christ, Alex…” Josh’s face is taut in concentration and pleasure.

Alex leans forward, staring at Josh the whole time, and licks the tip of his head. It’s an instinctive gesture but it feels good. He can take in Josh’s taste like this, bitter and a little salty. Alex can’t believe he’s doing this. He does it again, licks the tip, kittenish and light and non-committal.

Josh lets out a wild noise, his hips jerking into Alex’s face, his dick brushing Alex’s cheek. Alex squeezes his eyes shut and Josh comes. 

It’s a uniquely dirty feeling, nothing like Alex has ever felt before. He opens his mouth to gasp through it and he feels warmth splatter his face, some landing on his tongue, but mostly over his nose and cheeks. Not for the first time, Alex feels like he can’t catch his breath. His own hand has come down, mostly unconsciously, to palm himself through his jeans but even the light stimulation feels like too much. 

He can feel Josh’s come land on his eyelashes. So he keeps them shut, keeps the rest of his face squeezed tight as he feels his face get covered. His entire body thrums. He pants open-mouthed and lets Josh use his face, rutting against his nose, tapping the tip on his bottom lip and then pushing into his mouth again so Alex’s tongue can feel how his dick is pulsing. 

Then, he really does start coughing as Josh pushes too far. Josh backs up and Alex unintentionally tries to open his eyes but can’t because his eyelashes are stuck together. 

Alex, blind and pained, coughs into his fist and breathes raggedly, trying to compose himself. It’s an impossible task. His throat is well-abused and his face covered in dripping, warm come which is probably getting on his clothes. Which is certainly getting on his clothes.

He can hear Josh standing above him trying to catch his breath as well. “Fuck,” Josh says, with feeling. A hand grips Alex’s chin, thumb digging into his lower cheek, tilting his head this way and that. “Aw, look at you.”

Alex lets out a small, pathetic cough. It’s embarrassing, but he can’t move to hide.

He can hear, not see, Josh leaning down to take in his face closer. “I thought you couldn’t get prettier than when your eyes rolled back just ‘cause I put my hand in your hair. But you just keep surprising me, don’t you?”

Josh licks a stripe up his cheek, stopping below his eyelashes. Alex whimpers. It’s so dirty, he doesn’t know what to do with himself except sit there and let Josh do whatever he wants with him. Josh’s hand, which had previously been on his cheek, goes down to grab Alex’s neck. He doesn’t squeeze, just lets himself hold onto Alex’s throat. 

“Yeah,” Josh concludes, directly into Alex’s ear. “You’re real pretty sitting here, hard as fuck, face covered in my come.” 

Alex moans loudly, then, begging Josh to please, do something, and Josh does. He kisses Alex roughly, sinking back down onto the booth and pressing Alex into the corner. 

It’s too much. Josh sticks his hand back down Alex’s trousers and Alex’s whole body jerks as if he’s been struck by lightning. He nearly throws Josh off of him, and the sound he makes is akin to a dying animal. 

“Sweet thing,” Josh coos, getting a good hold of Alex’s dick. He thumbs at the head, spreading the wetness there around his overly sensitive slit. Alex’s back arches so hard he can almost feel bones snap, his body shaking violently. He wants to tell Josh to stop. He wants this to never end. “Oh, that’s it, my sweet, beautiful boy.”

Josh makes the praise sound humiliating. He also makes it sound like Alex is the most wonderful thing for being humiliated. The contradiction is too much. Alex can’t think. His legs spread wide to accommodate Josh sitting in between them. He feels like such a whore. He still can’t open his eyes. 

Josh’s other hand swipes across Alex’s cheek and collects the come still resting there. Alex knows what Josh is about to do before he does it, but he still isn’t ready for Josh’s fingers to thrust into his mouth. 

“Lick them off,” Josh says, and Alex does, because he does what Josh tells him to. 

Josh’s hand jerks him off now, the wetness of Alex’s dick making the slide easy. Alex breathes harshly through his nose, his mouth now occupied by Josh’s fingers which press down on his tongue. Alex can taste the bitterness of Josh’s come on them. He feels so close to his orgasm that it’s akin to feeling like he’s dying. 

Josh takes his fingers out of Alex’s mouth with a lewd pop and clumsily uses their wetness to clear the stickiness from his eyes. Alex blinks his eyes open carefully but the sight of Josh’s face is something he can’t handle. He trembles violently and forces his eyes back shut. 

This makes Josh chuckle. “Is it too much, baby?” he asks.

Alex nods but then Josh’s hand starts to feel good, really good, so he grabs Josh’s forearm with his trembling hand to keep him in place. “Don’t stop,” he begs, voice ruined, “please please please.” 

“I won’t,” Josh promises, leaning in to kiss Alex. He sucks on his bottom lip while his thumb inches back up to the head of Alex’s dick, circling there, and his other hand slips under Alex’s shirt to run across his chest and brush against a nipple. 

Alex bucks up everywhere Josh touches him. It’s like his body is constantly playing a game of how many different directions it can move, flinching this way and that. Alex is overpowered by it and the pace of Josh’s hand in his boxers is dizzying, just the right amount of pressure, fingertips touching every sensitive place. He stutters on obscenities and his hands fall limp to his sides. 

He’s coming. It builds for a long time, almost too long as Alex whines and gasps and falls apart, but Josh relinquishes his lips and leans in to whisper in Alex’s ear, “come for me, sweet thing” like he read Alex’s mind, and then Alex is gone. 

It’s not a comfortable orgasm but it’s perfect. Alex sobs, writhes, twists his hips away but Josh pumps him through it, kissing his neck, biting his lips, essentially is everywhere. It’s perfect. Alex whines at the ceiling of the photo booth, high and animalistic. It’s too much. It feels so fucking good. 

The overstimulation comes in quick. Alex uh-uh-uhs through the bottom wave of his orgasm but then his body jerks and now it’s definitely too much and he definitely needs it to end. He weakly bats Josh’s arm away. 

“Stop, ‘s too much, too much,” he slurs, body still jerking.

Josh takes his hand out, almost disappointed. He then nuzzles into the side of Alex’s neck, wiping the come off on Alex’s shirt. Alex can’t bring himself to care. He stares up at the ceiling and tries to catch his breath. 

They wait in relative silence for a few moments. Josh is a warm, steading presence beside him. The sounds of the party gradually become clearer– obviously, their momentary disappearance hasn’t been noticed in the larger scheme of the party. 

“You doing alright now?” Josh asks.

“Yeah,” says Alex, meaning it. He feels good. Better than he probably should. 

“Wanna head out?”

Alex turns his head to try and find Josh’s face. He’s sure he must look funny because Josh makes a sound that could only be accurately described as a coo, ruffling up Alex’s hair in a soothing way.

“It’s just not real comfortable to sit in a photo booth. If you’re tired, I’ll take you home.”

 Embarrassingly, Josh’s hand in his hair does calm Alex down. It feels nice to pay attention to as he catches his breath. But he thinks about Josh’s words. “I’m alright,” he says, sitting up a little straighter. “I’m good. Where are we going?”

Josh laughs, and Alex can feel the vibrations of his laugh all the way to the top of his head as Josh’s hand even shakes with it. “We can go wherever you want, pretty boy.” 

Alex flushes with the need to prove himself, even now, even after all that’s just happened. “Wherever. Your place.” 

Josh seems pleased with this, stroking Alex’s cheek once before standing up. “Sounds good to me.” He turns around when he’s half out of the booth, the curtain covering part of his face, to gently reach out for Alex’s waist and say over the din of the party, “Let’s not forget our pictures.”

Alex flushes brighter. He’d forgotten about the pictures. 

Once they’re both out of the booth and back into the party which has carried on, entirely oblivious to them, Josh directs him with a hand on Alex’s back to the sleeve outside of the booth where the pictures are printed. Thankfully (seriously, thank God ), no one has seemed to take interest in them in all the time Josh and Alex were in the booth. Although the idea of someone stumbling upon the pictures makes Alex’s stomach twirl before he can even take a look at them. 

He’s not finished reaching for them when Josh snakes an arm around his waist, as casual as anything, and tucks his chin on Alex’s shoulder to get his own look. “Did they come out nice?” he asks right up against Alex’s ear then constricting around him like a boa to drink in Alex’s shiver.  

Alex looks. Even in the low light, his answer is a clear yes. 

The first one is mostly normal, although Alex could almost laugh at his expression in the first three panels. He looks terrified. It’s the last strip on the first panel that shows the switch, the point of no return. Alex is confronted by his own glassy-eyed, lax-faced expression, and also by Josh’s predatory grin behind him. He looks like a puppet master and Alex his marionette, controlling him with the hand in his hair. 

Josh hums behind him now. “You’re cute when you’re surprised.”

The second one is… well, it’s obvious. There’s him on Josh’s lap, him and Josh kissing, obvious indecent ministrations. By the last panel, Alex can’t even recognize himself; staring up at Josh with his tongue out, ready to take the cock that Josh has clutched in his hand, a blur of movement too fast for the camera to catch entirely. 

It’s humiliating, seeing himself like this. He’s taken aback again by how much he’s truly never felt like this before, how much he truly loves it like nothing else. He already knows that he’s going to treasure these photos, maybe even keep them in his wallet. And if that isn’t a thrilling thought. 

Josh puts both of his arms around Alex, now properly embracing him from the back, crossing his arms over Alex’s stomach. His breath is hot on the shell of Alex’s ear and he can feel Josh’s arousal taking interest again.

“If we keep looking at these, I might just bend you over right here,” Josh warns, and Alex can tell he’s not joking by the desperation in his voice. 

“Let’s get out of here, then,” Alex suggests. Not that he’d be particularly opposed to Josh bending him over as soon as possible, but he fears that they’re already risking both of their careers by being so obvious, even if it is in a shadowy corner of some random house party. 

Sadly, Josh shrugs off of him so they can walk, and they make it about as far as the foyer before something less than ideal happens. 

Matt appears out of the woodwork, a beer in his hand and a bird on his arm. By the time Alex sees him it’s too late, Matt’s spotted them and his eyes narrow in recognition. 

“You’re heading the wrong way!” Matt exclaims, his hair unbelievably frizzy in the summer humidity– it’s a shocker that the girl he’s with is staring at him in such infatuation. That’s Alex’s excuse for not recognizing the girl at first. But then she turns to him and shit, it’s the girl from before, the one who told him about the photo booth. 

Alex is stunned. He is not making it out of this encounter alive. 

Thankfully, Josh takes the lead. Unthankfully, he puts his arm around Alex’s shoulders to make a point and he has to know that Alex is still weak to this, and has to be able to read his discomfort and shock. Alex didn’t even tell him about the girl. “Yeah, well, Aly wasn’t feeling too hot. And, ya know, I’m designated driver and all.” 

“You are?” asks Matt, the prick. 

“Am now,” says Josh. He tugs Alex a little closer to his side, and Alex lets himself be pulled, looking determinedly at the wall behind Matt’s shoulder and certainly not the girl, who hasn’t said anything yet, thank the Lord. Maybe she’s too drunk to remember him. Alex hopes so.

Matt looks from Josh to him and Alex is forced to maintain eye contact. Surely it’s all written in his expression, the debauchery that’s happened already and what’s about to happen soon if Matt could only get out of the damn way. And, God, he hopes his clothes aren’t ruined or stained. Alex also takes notice of the photos he’s still clutching in his palm and moves his arm further behind his back, shielding. He has to say something, has to save this situation. 

“I drank too much,” Alex says, and fuck , his voice still sounds ruined. He hopes Matt can’t hear that over the blaring music and yelling and partying. 

Matt peers at him and Alex looks back, smiling the best he can, trying to look innocent. “You’re not that much of a lightweight, Al.”

Because Alex is an idiot, he goes on. “I know, but ‘m feeling sick. I started with shots like an idiot. I didn’t want to bother you, you look busy.” His voice breaks at the end and he clears his throat, watching Matt’s expression grow more concerned. 

“You sure?”

Alex wants to laugh hysterically at the strangeness of the situation. But he just tucks the photos in his waistband and reaches to brush the hair out of his face, trying again to reassure. “I’m fine, Matt. Have fun.” 

This is good enough for Josh, who starts tugging Alex towards the sweet release of the exit. “I’ve got him, have fun, Matt,” Josh calls over his shoulder as Alex stumbles into his side, head bumping against Josh’s warm chest.

As they’re leaving Alex spares a last look behind him to find himself, unfortunately, making eye contact with the girl. She definitely recognizes him even though she looks even drunker than she did before. Alex snaps his head back around and tries not to think about having to explain this all to Matt later. 

They make it outside. Alex is so relieved he could cry, except they aren’t where he truly wants to be yet. Josh stops being innocuous, if what he was doing before could be called that, and drops his hand to curl around Alex’s hip. 

“Thought we’d never escape,” Josh says, reaching down with his other hand for his car keys and clicking them. “Thank God I’ve got you all to myself now.” 

Josh didn’t park far. Alex is both grateful and nervous about this as they find his black SUV and Alex’s back gets pushed up against it, Josh crowding in on him. Alex can’t decide whether to balk away or pull him closer as Josh kisses his cheek, high and sensual right under his eye, because someone from the party could still see them out here. 

“Josh,” he says, putting his hand on Josh’s chest. “C’mon, let’s get out of here.” 

This just makes Josh grin. “Whatever you say, Aly.”

Alex climbs into the passenger seat after Josh opens the door for him like a true gentleman and thinks about the nickname. “No one’s called me that before,” he says when Josh gets in the driver’s seat and starts up the car. 

Josh looks at him. It’s a wolfish sort of look, greedy, and Alex flushes despite himself. “It suits you,” he says. 

Alex stares straight ahead at the road because it kills him to see that look on Josh’s face and not be able to do anything about it. 

At some point during the drive, Josh’s hand snakes over and lands on Alex’s thigh. It travels upwards slowly, almost too slow to catalog. By the time they’re in what Alex can assume is Josh’s neighborhood, Alex’s breath is labored with need and he’s almost fully erect and Josh’s hand is vice-like and possessive where it grips his upper thigh just below his crotch. The heavy weight of his hand is a promise, one Alex knows will be held up. It makes him light-headed to think about. 

Josh pulls into a driveway. Alex’s heart is lodged firmly in his throat. 

Josh turns the key and the engine tapers off. He turns to look at Alex who stares back like a deer in the headlights. “Well?” he asks, squeezing Alex’s thigh.

Alex briefly ponders the merits of jumping over the gear shift and getting what he needs from Josh right there in the driver seat but he doesn’t. He just nods jerkily. 

But Josh can see the desperation in his face. Or in his crotch. He takes his hand off Alex’s thigh to touch his mouth, pulling down his bottom lip with a fascinated sort of amusement. “What, do you wanna head inside? Or should I just drive you home?”

“Come on, ” Alex pleads, patheticness coming to him easy through the sheer amount of desperation crawling through his gut. The way Josh is touching him feels confident, like a lead he’d like to follow, a life vest. He needs Josh to tell him what to do like he needs air. 

He knows Josh can sense his desperation because then he’s letting go of Alex’s face and unbuckling his seatbelt. Alex rushes to follow. His hands are so shaky it takes him two tries to undo his seatbelt and he feels a rush of nervousness in tandem with the arousal snaking through his body. He can’t remember ever being this worked up about getting laid– although this is his first time with a man, and the man is Josh. 

Alex barely makes it out of his seat before Josh appears outside the door, dragging Alex up by the waist and pressing him against the car again, slamming the door shut. Josh presses up against him and kisses him hard, hungrily, incessant tongue and a hint of teeth, making Alex’s knees go weak with the onslaught. 

Josh gropes his ass undelicately and Alex just hisses and moans, arching up into him, but it’s not enough. He wraps one of his legs around Josh’s thigh and finally fucking friction, it’s so good, moving their hips together. His head falls back against the car and both Josh’s hands go lower, cupping right under his ass.

Alex gets with the program. He hops a little and lets Josh pick him up, wrapping both his legs now around Josh’s middle and his arms around Josh’s head to keep their mouths locked together. Free to move now, Josh begins to walk towards the house, mostly blind. 

They make it inside, somehow, though Josh puts him down once they get to his front door and Alex takes a second to look around and think wow, Josh has got a really nice house before he’s being dragged into it and shoved against a wall. 

Shoved is a strong word. It’s also the correct one. Josh’s hands are on him, on his chest, on his head, gripping his chin and stroking his cheek and pushing hair away from his face, and also his thigh ends up slotted between Alex’s legs and so every movement they make together sends sparks up Alex’s body. He moans and tries to kiss Josh back. 

It’s so good, it doesn’t give Alex room to think. When they do move, it comes as a bit of a surprise because he’s pretty dazed. Suddenly Josh is pulling away, making all the moves as usual, and tugging him further into the house. Alex foggily wonders if he should take off his shoes but then thinks it’s probably too late for that. 

He must be slow-moving, because Josh turns around with his hand still guiding Alex by the shirt sleeve. “You coming?” he asks, to which Alex can only nod. Josh slows too, a grin coming to his face– God, is he handsome. “What, do you need me to carry you again?” 

Alex shakes his head, flushing, even though he’s technically already been carried inside. “No,” he says, because what is Josh playing at? He knows what he needs, knows that he needs it bad, right now, so why the teasing?

His answer comes in the darkening of Josh’s expression. He stops walking and regards Alex fully. “Aw, are you sure?” He creeps closer. “You’re really gonna deny the princess treatment?” 

Really, Alex is not going to let that offer slide. He has trouble expressing that, though, so he nods once, shyly, to tell Josh that it’s okay, then he’s being swept off his feet. 

Josh’s arms are really strong. Thinking about that while wrapped up in them is going to make Alex faint which would be very embarrassing so he tries not to think. 

Josh carries him upstairs effortlessly, his arms not even shaking. Alex squeaks as Josh swings him through a doorway, but he doesn’t hit anything. 

“See,” Josh says, hoisting Alex up higher, “I knew you’d like it.” 

Josh’s bedroom is large and a bedside lamp is already on. His bed alone is massive. Alex appreciates this as he’s tossed onto the mattress to bounce once, twice before Josh is denting it, crawling up on top of him. 

Alex sighs into the kiss and Josh is straddling him now, bending down to keep their mouths connected as he slides off his own belt. Alex melts into the mattress, now a little nervous. He still can’t believe he’s really doing this. 

Josh seems to sense his hesitation and pulls back as he frees his belt, which just gives Alex a perfect view of the man sitting on his legs, looking hungry to fuck him. Alex’s breath gets caught in his throat. 

“What is it, baby?” Josh asks, sticky-sweet. “Are you doing okay?”

Obviously, Josh can feel how okay Alex is doing, he’s nearly sitting on it. But Alex appreciates the worry so he nods which is hard to do laying down. He just messes up his hair more by rubbing it on the mattress. 

“This is… it’s just new,” he says.

Josh throws his belt to the side and it clinks on the hard floor, and then he’s smiling like Alex has never seen him smile before. “Don’t be nervous,” he says, and Alex’s heart rate kicks up about ten paces. He leans down again but he goes for Alex’s neck this time and Alex gasps as he feels the roughness of Josh’s stubble against his throat, then hisses out again as Josh licks down his neck with a flat, wet tongue. “I’ll go slow with you, sweetheart. Really take my time, cuz honestly I’ve got you here ‘s long as I want and I wanna enjoy it.”

Alex shudders. It shouldn’t work but it does and he’s caught like a fly in a venus trap and fuck, he’s achingly hard and he wants Josh to make good on his promises. 

He doesn’t even get a chance to respond because then Josh has taken a serious offense to how Alex is still fully clothed. He unbuttons Alex’s shirt with inhuman speed (honestly, it takes Alex way longer to figure that out himself) and then is pushing at it to get it off him. Alex has to sit up and maneuver around his clothes flying off him and suddenly he’s down to boxers, shivering because Josh’s room is so cold, then shivering again because of how Josh pulls back to take him in. 

“Pretty,” Josh decides, putting his hand in Alex’s hair and using it as leverage to pull his head back and suck a kiss into the junction of his shoulder and neck. Alex’s fingers curl into fists on the bed sheets, his eyes slipping closed. 

Josh’s hands go around his waist and back and suddenly he’s being lowered with his back to the bed. Josh is on top of him again, body like a furnace, mouth still on his neck. Alex lets his hands travel up Josh’s back, upset at how he’s still wearing a shirt. Josh’s mouth is insistent, sucking, nipping at his skin and holding Alex down with his body to keep him in place. Alex just moans, crossing his ankles behind Josh’s back, feeling tiny and helpless against Josh’s barrage of hands and mouth and tongue. 

Then Josh’s hand slips into his hair and he’s pressing his nose into Alex’s neck, almost accusatory. “You’ve never let a man fuck you,” Josh says, and Christ how does Alex still shiver at the casual vulgarity, “Well, I’ll make sure I’m the last, too. Want you to be mine, in this, don’t want no other man putting his filthy fucking hands on what’s mine. I’ll give it to you so good you wouldn’t even think about lettin’ any other dickhead touch you.”

This sounds perfect to Alex. He squeezes Josh tighter with his legs, seeking friction. “Yes, Josh, please, ‘m fucking yours .” 

Josh growls, pulls off of him then drags Alex halfway down the bed by a thigh before nudging his legs apart and Alex feels more naked than he ever has. There’s lube in Josh’s hand, Lord knows when it got there, and he’s eying Alex’s boxers with extreme displeasure.

“Take them off,” Alex says, getting the sense that Josh was waiting for his permission. 

It seems Alex is right, because Josh grins and does exactly as requested before pulling Alex’s lower half into his lap. Alex blushes at being exposed but he’s keeping his cool– on his face, at least. He doesn’t have to look down to know that his cock is hard, painfully and obviously so.

Josh sees. The look in his eyes is covetous as he brings a hand up to cup his dick and Alex gasps, wriggles, looks away. “You’re so wet, baby, just like a girl,” Josh says and it makes Alex blink in surprise, then groan. He’s not a girl, but it feels good to be like one in Josh’s eyes, and that thought makes his fingers curl again in the bed sheets even after Josh takes his hand away. 

Of course, Josh pauses in lubing two of his fingers to investigate Alex’s groan. “What’s that, hm? You like that?” 

“Fuck,” Alex groans, hiding behind his hair and bringing a hand to his face on instinct, like to hide, all of this meaning yes. 

Josh understands. He puts his cold, lubed fingers right against Alex’s entrance causing him to shudder and twist his hips a bit, the feeling foreign. “My pretty little girl. I’ll be gentle with you, I know you’re just a fragile little thing. Ain’t you, sweetheart?” 

“Hmmgh, please touch me,” is all Alex can muster, twisting his hips again to try and catch Josh’s fingers again. He doesn’t know what it’ll be like but he wants it, needs it bad. He feels fucking high, absolutely delirious, and he needs Josh to get on with it already.

Josh smooths a hand down Alex’s thigh, bottle of lube tossed off somewhere, chuckling a bit. “I will, baby, I will,” he says and pushes Alex’s legs up higher, putting his ass on display. 

Alex bites the tip of his pointer finger, trying to keep quiet. Josh pushes his fingers again against his hole and rubs them there, not penetrating. The lube is cold and strange. And then, suddenly, he’s pushing in. 

Alex gasps. It’s not a particularly pleasurable sensation so he writhes a bit as Josh works his pointer finger in, smirking down at him as he does so. “Yes, that’s it. You’re doing so well, baby,” he coos as Alex squirms in discomfort. “I know it hurts but I promise it’ll feel really good soon.” 

Alex trusts him, so he nods, biting his nail harder. Josh gets his finger in up to the knuckle then pulls it out and it stings, a little, so Alex makes a soft noise. 

Josh hoists him further onto his lap and then curls his hand around Alex’s dick. And that feels good, especially with the lube on Josh’s palm, so Alex hardly notices when Josh sticks a second finger in and begins scissoring. 

The discomfort lessens, slowly but surely, and Josh’s hand on his cock doesn’t let up. Alex moans, quietly, then his body twitches as Josh’s fingers brush against something wonderful. Suddenly, the discomfort doesn’t matter anymore. 

“Shit, Josh, ” he cries out, both his hands scrambling for a hold on the sheets. “Mmm, oh, fuck.” 

Josh grins devilishly, scissoring deeper. “Yeah, you like that, huh?”

“Yeah. Yeah, oh, shit.” It feels so different than anything he’s ever felt. It astounds him that he’s had sex so many times and never even considered what it felt like to have someone finger him but it feels incredible. 

Josh slows down and takes his hand off his cock and Alex could cry. “Don’t want you getting ahead of yourself, darling,” he says and Alex shudders, his hips gyrating to catch the pleasure that’s still coming from Josh’s fingers. “God, you’re so fucking pretty like this. Wish you could see yourself. Fucking back on my fingers like a desperate little slut.”

Alex bites his bottom lip, trying to contain himself. “Feels good,” he says, thoughtless except for the urge to get Josh inside of him. 

“I bet it does,” Josh says, stretching him wider, and unable to help himself from bending down to steal a kiss from Alex’s open and panting mouth.

“Can you… can you fuck me?” Alex asks, desperation growing. 

Josh digs his fingers in harder, making Alex whine. “Shit, baby. I love hearing you say that.”

“Well, can you?” Alex asks breathlessly. “Please, can you fuck me, Josh?” 

And then Alex is being shoved off, spun around dizzyingly with Josh’s mouth at his ear telling him “on all fours, then.” He does his best to comply and his mind goes utterly blank at the feeling of Josh’s dick pressed up against his ass, ready. At some point, Josh must’ve taken off his trousers. Alex doesn’t recall that happening. 

“It might hurt,” Josh says, low and hungry, “I don’t know how much I’ve prepared you. But fuck, if you ask me again, Lord help me, Alex, I don’t think I’ll be able to stop myself.” 

Alex wouldn’t have it any other way. He needs Josh like air right now. He backs up, arches his back and feels Josh’s hands tight on his hips. “I’m okay,” he whispers, positive that it’s true. “I need you to fuck me so bad.”

He gets his wish. Josh lines up with his ass, taking great care to position correctly, and then he’s slowly pushing in.

Alex groans the second he feels Josh inside of him. It does sting but Alex doesn’t care, he just squeezes his eyes shut and breathes out hard.

“You’re so fucking tight, pretty girl,” Josh grunts. “Holy fuck. You’re perfect.”

Alex leans heavily on his hands, winded already. 

Josh’s hand snakes out and grabs a hold of Alex’s hair, yanking his hair back and sliding the rest of the way inside of him in one smooth movement. Alex gasps for breath, mouth falling open dumbly as his entire face slackens. 

“So tight,” Josh says again, nearly pained.

Alex’s vision goes double as Josh inches out and thrusts back in, the force of it shaking his entire body. His hand doesn’t loosen on his hair and Alex lets out a strangled moan at the combination of these sensations. 

“Yeah, fuck. That’s it,” Josh says, his voice a growl, finding a harsh pace. “I’ve been dreaming about this.”

Josh’s pace is unrelenting, barely giving Alex a second to adjust. The pleasure is overwhelming, Alex just grips onto the sheets and takes it the best he can. But he’s knocked down to his elbows, then as Josh takes his hand out of his hair to grip his ass with both hands instead, Alex falls onto his face, his moaning muffled against the sheets as Josh doesn’t let up for an instant. 

“Alex motherfucking Turner,” Josh marvels, gripping his hips tight enough to bruise. 

Alex grips the sheets up near his head, his face hot. He loves being overpowered like this and he has to stifle himself from making some truly embarrassing sounds.

Josh doesn’t like this. He pulls out (Alex whines at the loss) and manhandles him around so they’re facing each other. The look on Josh’s face is too much for Alex to handle so he closes his eyes and keens loudly as Josh slides back into him at this angle.

“Now I can see ya,” Josh says proudly, leaning down to take Alex’s mouth in a kiss and gripping both of Alex’s thighs as he fucks back into him. Alex’s lips are lax against the kiss as pleasure courses through him, the feeling of Josh on top of him and inside of him filling him up so much that he can’t think.

And then, somehow, it gets even better as Josh angles to hit the perfect spot inside of him. Alex cries out, his head falling back on the pillows that were once neatly lined up on the top of Josh’s bed.

“Fuck, there. Don’t stop,” he pleads, his words slurred and strange to his own ear. 

Josh kisses his neck and bites his way down his shoulder, groaning into Alex’s skin. “Oh, baby, I never wanna stop.” 

Alex’s body flinches and undulates mostly unconsciously to Josh’s touching. His brain is melting out of his ears, he’s sure, and his eyebrows pinch together as he moans and takes it. 

Josh’s hand closes around Alex’s cock, and fuck, it’s nearly too much. He writhes and whines but Josh just bites down on his neck, twisting his hand around Alex’s dick expertly. “Yeah, pretty girl, that’s it,” Josh murmurs right into Alex’s ear to make him shudder and moan higher, louder. 

“God, oh God,” Alex chants, his hands scrambling up Josh’s shoulders, to grab a hold of anything he can reach to keep him centered. “Fuck, thats– harder, please, harder!”

“Harder, huh?” Josh says, out of breath, but obeys his command. And Alex is blissed nearly silent, high little oh-oh-ohs slipping out at the downbeat of Josh’s every thrust. Josh’s hand twists around his dick, thumbs the head just to make Alex’s hips flinch.

The bed creaks and slams against the wall like some crappy porno and the sound of skin slapping is so loud that if Josh didn’t live in the desert with nearly no neighbors, there would certainly be noise complaints. Not that Alex would care. He’s being fucked so good he doesn’t care about anything, only that Josh will continue.

“Good, so good, don’t stop,” Alex says, high-pitched and slack-jawed, feeling his orgasm build in his stomach. 

Josh litters kisses down his neck down to his chest and Alex puts both his hands on his own thighs to hold himself up and open for Josh. He’s conscious of how dirty it is to do so, how slutty it makes him feel. But he likes it. 

“It’s so– God, ” Alex whines, mouth feeling numb with all of the blood rushing through his body, making his heart pound. He doesn't know what he’s saying, doesn’t care. “Shit, I feel like I’m gonna–!” 

“Gonna come already?” Josh says, teasing. His hand gets faster and Alex trembles harder. “We’ve only just started.” 

Alex doesn’t care about that either. His orgasm is fast-approaching with the speed and intensity of a freight train and, quite frankly, he doesn’t want to stop it. This feels so good. “ Fuck, I don’t– ah, I can’t–!” 

“Pretty baby can’t help herself, can she?” Josh taunts but of course the humiliation just makes Alex lose it more. “Well, alright. Come on my cock, see what happens.”

Alex will. Josh still fucks him hard, still has his hand wrapped around Alex’s dick and, God, the pleasure just keeps building and building until it’s white hot. Alex goes silent as the first wave hits him, mouth falling open just to stutter on a low, long moan as his orgasm paints Josh’s stomach and hand. He actually feels his eyes roll back, his eyelashes spasming wildly as his thighs twitch around Josh’s body and Josh steadily fucks him through it. 

Alex falls boneless, but Josh doesn’t stop. He grips Alex by the hip so tight that he can feel the indents of his rings and fucks in animalistically, hungry, not letting Alex catch his breath. There’s sweat on his brow and his face is twisted in determination and pleasure and it’s the hottest thing Alex has ever seen. 

Overstimulation makes Alex twitch. Josh lets go of Alex’s cock to grab him harder, pull him further into his lap until he’s essentially using Alex as a sex toy, dragging him forward and back with each of his thrusts.

“Christ,” gasps Alex, still not able to catch his breath. “G-god, Josh .” 

“Feel so fucking good,” Josh grunts, his composure slipping. “Gonna fucking– keep you here, all for myself, tie you up and have you when I want and– shit .”

Alex squirms but can’t get away from Josh’s iron grip. Tears are building in his eyes again and it hurts now but he loves it. “Yeah, yeah, I’m yours.”

“That’s fucking right,” Josh says, kneeling higher, pressing Alex further into the mattress and tears fall from Alex’s eyes, tracing hot lines down his cheeks onto the bed. He squeaks as Josh rams into him, somehow harder, at a slightly different angle just to make it hurt in a slightly different way. He splays out, arms limply bent at the elbows near his head. “You’re mine.”

Josh leans down to kiss him again with a hand on the back of Alex’s neck to prop his head up. He licks into Alex’s mouth fiercely, tasting him, claiming him. Alex can feel it when he comes– his thrusts go irregular, then slow, and Josh is slack-lipped groaning into Alex’s mouth. “Mmm, yeah. That’s it,” Josh breathes, letting go of Alex’s head once he’s finished and slowly crawling back. 

Alex lays there, panting, unable to catch his breath. His stomach feels sticky and as Josh moves back further, he feels warmth trickle down his upper thighs onto the bed. He groans at the dirty feeling, low and embarrassed. 

Josh has both of Alex’s legs in his hands and he pushes them up to reveal the place where their bodies are still joined. Josh pulls out slowly and Alex feels his come dribble out and it’s hot and wet and so, so dirty he wants to close his legs but Josh keeps them open. 

“Now that’s a sight,” Josh says and drags his index finger along Alex’s abused entrance, catching lube and come. Alex trembles, still oversensitive, trying and failing again to close his legs. 

“Josh,” he complains, but Josh continues his movement, sliding his fingertip around the rim, slipping just the tip of his finger inside. Alex squirms again but gets no further. Heat builds in his lower stomach again– excitement again, already. Somehow. Josh just does that to him. 

Then Josh is bending down, pushing Alex’s legs further apart to kiss his way down his upper thighs to his ass and Alex whines, bucks his hips up. He feels Josh’s tongue dipping inside of him, just like his fingers except it’s not because it’s his tongue , his facial hair dragging along the sensitive skin of his ass and thighs. Alex makes a choked noise like he’s possessed and twists his hands in the sheets for a hold on something because this is too much. 

Josh groans into Alex’s skin and Alex is gone, tears falling anew, sobs bursting from his throat. “F-fuck!” he cries as Josh switches to kissing him, working his lips over the sensitive skin. “Please, Josh, I can’t–” 

Josh drags him up by both hands clamped around his thighs, holding him to his face, still moving his devilish mouth and Alex just cries. Josh seems determined to suck out every drop of the come he’d emptied into him and Alex can’t do much besides hold on and soak the sheets with sweat and tears. 

Alex can’t come again, he can’t , but the pleasure-pain is so blinding it hardly even matters. His hips undulate towards Josh’s mouth and then away when it starts to hurt but Josh keeps him steady throughout it, only the top half of Alex’s body remaining on the bed at all as Josh drags him into the air by the hips and thighs. 

It’s only when Alex’s crying quiets into incoherent blubbering and he’s regained enough strength to push at Josh’s head that he pulls away, setting Alex’s legs down on the bed and wiping his mouth. Upon seeing the pitiable state of the other man, Josh’s face changes. 

“Oh, shit, baby,” he says, crawling up beside Alex whose tears are silently tracking down into the pillow beneath him, into his hair. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you, I’m sorry.” 

Alex just shakes his head, unable to speak. He feels like he’s underwater as he hiccups through more tears, feeling too many emotions. But he isn’t hurt. He just doesn’t know how to convey that. 

Josh is shushing him, laying on his side beside Alex and carding a hand gently through his hair. “I’m sorry, baby,” he keeps saying, and Alex keeps trying to shake his head. 

It’s when the tears die down that Alex is able to catch his breath enough to make words happen. “Not,” he says, with great effort. “I’m not hurt.” 

Josh, thankfully, understands. He hesitates for a moment, trying to think of what to do. “Okay. Is it… alright if I hold you for now?”

A simple yes or no Alex can deal with. He nods gratefully, and Josh scoots closer, pulling him into an embrace as they face each other. 

Josh continues to smooth through Alex’s hair, which is a disaster. His fingers are very careful, delicate, and Alex appreciates it more than anything. They lie there for a minute, Alex’s eyes gradually slipping closed as his tears dry, Josh still combing through his hair. 

…

“Do you want me to run you a bath?” Josh asks sometime later, his voice sounding far away to Alex who’d nearly fallen asleep.

Moving right now does not sound great to Alex, but he figures he’s pretty gross. “Yeah,” he says, trying to blink himself awake. “Yeah, thanks.”

“No problem,” says Josh, pressing a quick kiss to the top of Alex’s head before getting off the bed, stretching, and heading to the en-suite bathroom. 

Alex rolls over to watch him, wincing a little at the soreness in his ass. Josh flicks on the light in the bathroom which Alex had barely even noticed in all this time and goes about filling the bathtub, all while remaining stark naked. Alex appreciates the view, resting his head on his cheek as he lays against the pillows. 

Soon enough, the water is at a temperature that Josh approves of so he waves at Alex to come over. 

Alex tries to get up, but finds out pretty quickly that he really, really doesn’t want to. His entire lower half is sore. He groans in annoyance. 

Josh walks over, throwing on a pair of shorts (sadly). “Want me to help you, there?” 

“Yeah,” says Alex, sitting up a little. “Shit, I don’t think I’ll be able to walk for… a bit.”

Josh grins even as he offers a hand. “That was the idea.” 

As Josh helps him up, a phone starts ringing, buzzing against the floor. Josh looks at him, and Alex winces. It is his ringtone. “Leave it,” he tells Josh, then wincing again in a different way as he takes the steps necessary to get to the bathtub. 

Eventually, the phone stops going off. Josh lowers him into the water and it feels positively heavenly. Alex groans as he sinks into it and Josh chuckles.

“Feels good, huh?” Josh asks. Alex’s heart kicks up a little. He worries his bottom lip with his teeth, flicking his eyes up to meet Josh’s, almost shyly. 

Josh crouches beside the tub, now more serious. “I like you, Alex. We can do this as often or, well, as not often as you want.” 

Alex nods to show he appreciates this. “Thank you,” he says quietly.

And then Alex’s phone rings again. 

“Could be important,” says Josh with a quirked eyebrow. 

“Okay, fine,” says Alex, exasperated. As far as he can tell, it’s 2am, so who could possibly be calling is a mystery.

Josh walks back over to the bedroom, starts picking through the heap of clothes on the floor. It takes him a second to find the phone, which he pulls out from Alex’s trousers with an even more harshly quirked eyebrow. “You’ve still got a flip phone?” 

“Works just fine,” says Alex, taking a hand out of the water and shaking it out so he can hold the phone.

Josh walks back and gives it to him so Alex can pick it up before its final ring. “Hello?” he asks into the phone. 

“Al, where the fuck are you?” It’s Matt. Alex barely suppresses the urge to pinch the bridge of his nose.

“I’m– why does it matter, mate, I’m fine,” Alex says. There’s no way he’s about to explain whatever this is. 

“Of course it fucking matters, you off and disappeared with some bullshit excuse and now it’s 2am and you’re effectively MIA, mate, so there’s definitely a bit of room for, I don’t know, worry? Where are you?” 

“I’m at Joshua’s,” Alex says. Because he is shit at lying to Matt. 

“What?”

Yeah, well, Alex doesn’t know how this happened, either. “I’m at Joshua’s, and it’s fine. Just staying over for the night. Shit, Matt, don’t you have something better to be doing at 2am?” 

“I did,” Matt says moodily, “but she left. She was too drunk, kept getting wasted after we’d come up with plans for the night. Which, you know, reminds me.”

“Ah,” says Alex, helpless to stop what he’s sure is coming. 

“Strangely, she told me you were a homosexual. And I thought, obviously not, that’s Al, but then I thought about why on Earth you were leaving with Joshua so early, and why you’re still over at 2 bloody AM–” 

“Matt,” Alex pleads, knowing it’s too far gone. 

“ Alex,” Matt says, not-mad-just-disappointed. “Are you shagging our producer?”

Alex closes his eyes, thinks about dropping his phone into the water. Josh is standing at the door, leaning on the frame, arms crossed over his broad, shirtless chest. “Fucking hell,” is all he says. 

Matt screeches. “I knew it, I fucking new it! Al, I’m telling you, I fucking new it.”

“Can you– stop yelling, Matt, I get it– can you, seriously not, uh, tell the others right now? It’s not– it’s complicated.”

“Yeah, I bet it’s bloody complicated,” says Matt with the air of having won some grand prize, and Alex doesn’t know what the hell that means. 

“It’s fine,” Alex says, squeezing his eyes shut and dragging his other hand down his face. “The album’s not in any danger.”

“I don’t care about the album, are you doing alright?” Matt asks, suddenly back to genuine. 

“Liar. You were worried about the album.”

“Maybe,” Matt concedes. “But are you?” 

“Yeah,” says Alex, looking over to where Josh is still watching him, giving him his space but still clearly aware of the conversation. “Yeah, I mean, we’re figuring it out. But I’m okay. It’s all okay.” 

Josh is walking over now, and Alex wants to stop talking to Matt now. 

“I’ll explain whatever later, when I see you,” Alex says, itching to hang up. 

“Am I interrupting the start of round two?” Matt asks and it makes Alex blush, stupidly, because in truth they are very far past round two.

“Fuck you,” he says in farewell to Matt, then slams his phone shut. 

Josh takes the phone from Alex’s lax hand and puts it on the sink counter. “Doing okay?”

Alex nods, suddenly completely exhausted. “Yeah.”

“Don’t worry,” he says, settling behind Alex and putting his hands on Alex’s shoulders, massaging gently. “I’ll take care of it.”

And it does make Alex feel better. He believes him. He relaxes into the massage, eyes slipping closed again. 

“By the way, I found the pictures in your pockets,” Josh says, and Alex hears the smirk in his voice. “I’m thinking we can split ‘em. I wanna put mine in my wallet.”