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“Here you go, love.”
If Alex is surprised to open his eyes and see Greg holding an ice cream, then he doesn’t show it. Greg hands Alex the waffle cone, three tall scoops of chocolate goodness piled on, dripping down the sides already.
“I’m a grown man, I think,” Alex says with a straight face.
Greg rolls his eyes. “That you may be, however, you’ve had a long day and it’s forty fucking degrees outside. We all deserve a treat every now and then.” He plonks himself down on the couch alongside Alex with a long sigh, balancing his own cone carefully. One scoop for Greg, thank you very much. He isn’t a sugar slut like Alex.
Alex hums, “I do like treats.” He takes a luxurious lick of his ice cream and the chocolate drips down his long and slender fingers.
“You’re a mess, Horne.”
“I am a mess,” he agrees, brows furrowing. “Thank you for my ice cream, though.”
“Is it just… stress? Or is it something else?” He takes a bite of the ice cream, shivering as the cold hits his teeth.
Alex takes a moment to think. “Just stress, maybe? I don’t… it’s just… we have new deadlines with Channel Four and more to edit, and I keep fluffing the bits for filming, and the camera broke earlier which means we lost some footage and…”
“Hey, hey,” Greg soothes, a hand reaching out to rub Alex’s thigh gently, “it’s alright. We can get it sorted.”
“Mmm,” Alex says, licking the edge of the cone even whilst his eyes are fixed on Greg’s hand.
“What can I do to help?” he asks seriously, starting to worry.
He’s noticed the bags under Alex’s eyes of late. He’s noticed the late nights and early mornings. He’s noticed the calls that go to voicemail every time. He’s noticed the way Alex can’t stay focused anymore, not on a single thing, his mind spinning and buzzing in a way that isn’t normal for Alex. Believe it or not.
“Let me help you, baby.” He squeezes his hand, the one gripping Alex’s thigh, and Alex tenses up for a moment and then his blue eyes pierce Greg’s grey. “Oh.” Well… Greg might have some ideas now on how to help.
“I… I didn’t mean…” the ice cream Alex’s holding is melting rapidly, and while he stutters out some kind of response, Greg watches as it drips down onto his trousers.
“Messy boy.” Greg slurps noisily at his own ice cream and Alex just stops to stare at him. He licks out his cone while Alex gazes at him, before dumping it unceremoniously onto a table somewhere to his left.
“Oh… that’s going to - that might stain,” Alex says, scrunching up his nose.
Greg smirks. He stands in front of Alex then, looking down at the man as Alex looks up. His eyes are as wide as saucers and his ice cream is quickly becoming something more like chocolate milk.
“Let’s get your trousers off before you ruin them,” Greg says, dropping to his knees. “Yeah?”
Alex’s mouth parts, but no words come out. He nods quickly instead, the grip on his cone tightening enough that Greg can hear a muffled crunch.
“Good boy,” he coos. “Let’s get you to relax, hey?”
Greg walks on his knees until he’s surrounded by Alex’s thighs, pressed up against his lower rib cage. Alex boxes him in and then watches with baited breath as he tugs at his belt, slipping it through the loops of his trousers and setting it aside with a soft thud, onto the cushion beside them. Greg looks at the drops of chocolate on the trousers, and knows that even though he hasn’t said anything, Alex will already be worrrying about the drycleaning. He just needs to take his mind off it all for a few moments, at least.
He wipes his fingers across the trousers, just over the zip, and Alex groans softly. He brings his chocolate covered fingers to his mouth, slipping them in as Alex watches on, and he moans softly as he sucks the melted deliciousness from his own hand.
“De-licious,” he sing songs, making a show of licking each finger in the same manner that Alex usually does.
“I…” Alex hasn’t really moved, he’s just staring. Every now and then his tongue darts out to lick over his lips and Greg hasn’t let it go unnoticed.
“You have your own, boy,” Greg reminds him, nodding to the cone in Alex’s hand.
Alex looks down to see another drip heading south, and quickly catches it with his tongue. Greg bites his lip and watches as Alex licks at the cone, and then starts to unzip the pesky trousers while Alex is distracted.
“Hips,” he says, encouraging Alex to wiggle a little so he can yank the trousers to the floor.
Alex complies, tongue still on his ice cream as he does so, and Greg throws the trousers somewhere behind him.
He sits back on his heels for a moment, hands on Alex’s bare thighs now… one on each… dragging his fingers up across the pale skin and through the thick hair that covers them. The sweat clings to Alex and Greg fucking loves it. He’s so focused on the way his hands glide up Alex’s thighs, he forgets to remind Alex to concentrate on more than just him.
“Ooh!” Alex says, jumping skittishly out of seemingly nowhere.
Greg looks up, only to find Alex looking down… to his lap.
Ah .
Greg’s eyes are drawn to the pink pants, covered in melted ice cream now.
“Was it cold?” Greg asks, a smirk upon his lips.
“Yes!” Alex gasps, as the cold liquid starts to seep through the material.
“I know what you need, sweetheart… you need me to lick it off, don’t you?” Greg asks, voice sugary sweet as he looks at Alex from below his eyelashes.
“Oh… Oh God, Greg,” Alex groans, becoming breathless as Greg’s face moves to be just inches from where he’s most wanted. Greg can see nothing but the pants in front of him. The outline of Alex’s little cock, starting to twitch under his gaze.
Greg’s better off hiding the entire view anyway. The image of Alex sat here on the couch burned in his brain nonetheless. His white shirt and suit jacket on, his tie still tight around his neck, his black suit trousers long gone, and his pink pants now covered in chocolate, soaking through to his prick… well, it's a bit too much for Greg when he’s trying to maintain control. This isn’t about him after all.
Greg doesn’t mind his current position either though, in fact, he quite likes it. Alot. Maybe he’s in trouble either way.
He leans forward and licks at the already wet patch of pink cloth, feeling Alex’s cock grow under his tongue's attention, starting to fill out.
“Greg,” Alex chants above him. Little breathy noises escaping.
He feels a cold drop of something fall onto his shoulder and he can’t help but giggle as Alex quickly apologises, trying to slurp up the melting puddle forming in his hand, the cone not doing much any longer.
“Don’t you…” he whispers against Alex’s crotch, his lips touching his thickening prick as it lengthens.
“Mmm, sorry!” Alex groans as Greg sucks at the material now, tasting the ice cream on his tongue, mixed with the distinct taste of Alex. God, it’s good. He inhales deeply, breathing it in. The smell of salt and sugar and Alex and sex.
He decides that he can’t take it anymore. He tugs at Alex’s pants until he can set his erection free, smiling as it sways under Greg’s scrutiny.
“Are you feeling any calmer?” he asks, looking up at Alex as he sticks out his tongue. His eyes are sparkling and Alex makes eye contact for just a moment, his pupils dark and enlarged, and then he sees what Greg’s next move is.
“N-yea... Nooooo… this isn’t… Oh. Thi-this isn’t calm, exactly,” Alex pants, his whole body clenching as Greg licks a stripe up his hard cock, the same way he'd lick an ice cream.
“You will be soon,” he says, kissing at Alex’s prick, flicking his tongue across the vein that runs from root to tip while his fingers tug at Alex’s scrotum.
“Oh, yes. Please…” Alex begs, his ice cream long forgotten.
He’s definitely dropped it somewhere, but Greg isn’t willing to take his mouth off Alex for a single second to look around. That’s a problem for later. He just knows that he has two hands in his hair now, holding on for dear life, Alex's grip nice and tight, and so he continues to twirl his tongue across Alex’s slit until Alex bucks up and he decides to put the poor man out of his misery.
He sucks Alex’s cock into his mouth and deep throats him, forcing himself to relax now, ironically, to ensure he can keep Alex there for as long as possible. He eventually has to pull back, gasping for air and sucking in a deep, wet breath, one of Alex’s hands dropping from his body.
When he looks up, he finds Alex has his eyes shut, his forehead resting in one of his hands, as he takes it all in… as Greg allows him to forget everything else for just a moment and enjoy this for what it is.
“You good, baby?” he asks gently, fingers taking the place of his mouth for a moment, stroking Alex up and down slowly. Teasingly. He loves how his cock twitches.
Alex opens his eyes slowly, a gap-toothed grin spreading across his face slowly, “Yeah… don’t, uh… don’t stop?”
Greg chuckles and the hand still in his hair strokes gently, Alex tugging softly at the strands. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”
He moves forward and sucks Alex down again, and it’s not even another minute before Alex cums down Greg’s throat.
He falls back into the couch while Greg rocks himself up onto his feet, before slumping onto the cushions beside his lover. “Christ,” he says, voice hoarse.
"Yeahh…" Alex drawls, happily.
“You can’t be too strung up now, right?”
Alex giggles beside him, cheeks red and hair mussed. “No. I feel… boneless.”
Greg bites his lip to try and hide his own grin. “Good.”
Alex turns to face him, and his eyes are so fucking beautiful as he stares at Greg. “Thank you, my wonderful man,” he says, "for my treats."
“You’re welcome, baby.” Greg chuckles as he adds, “any other worries, you just let me know.”
“I do have one,” Alex says quickly.
“Oh, yeah?” Greg asks with a frown.
It’s funny, because only Alex could have any worries as he’s sat on a couch, pantless, his flaccid cock on full display.
“I dunno where the ice cream is?”
Greg shakes his head. “Jesus,” he groans, looking at the floor and then beside them, twisting around, “I don’t want to kn -ohhh .” That's when he hears a crunch and feels a wet squelch. “Oh fucking hell! I think I'm on it!?”
Alex has never laughed so hard in his life. His eyes light up and his face goes twice as red. He gasps and he honks.
Greg can’t even find it in him to be mad.