Alex was a wreck of sensation, of physical pleasure because Henry was clearly good at this. But it was more than that to, something more significant that he couldn't -- or wasn't brave enough to -- put a name to, as he watched Henry before him, as he reminded himself how much he cared about this infuriatingly perfect, beautifully flawed man.

Another almost desperate grip of fingers in Henry's hair, another fitful rock of his hips. His lips were parted around each shaky breath, soft hitches and moans as Henry took him apart so completely.

"Henry... I..." And that was all he could get out before his release slammed through him. A wordless sound and he came, spilling himself into that waiting, eager mouth, hips twitching, jerking with each rope of come that he spilled.