Archive of Our Own

“Drop of hat, these guys will rock and roll.” 

Enthralled, Miles pushes himself up into a sitting position on the bed, eyes fixed on the telly, which is currently showing a rerun of one of his all-time favourite movies. "I bloody love Al Pacino," he mutters, to no one in particular.

Alex hums, not looking up from his notebook. “So you’ve said.” 

“Think he’s my favourite actor.” 

“I know.” 

“‘S funny, innit?”

“What is?" Alex asks distractedly.

“Well,” Miles explains, still watching the TV, “that my favourite actor’s called Al, and my best mate’s called Al, too. I just think that's funny, don't you?" 

Alex hums again. “Must be destiny.”

“D’you reckon?” Miles turns to look at Alex, who is lying next to him on the bed, poring over the notebook that he’s been scribbling into for the past half an hour or so. He’s over at Miles’s for the weekend to work on some music, but since Miles decided they'd earned a break, they’re currently watching a movie. Or Miles is, anyway. As usual, it’s hard to tear Alex’s attention away from his words. 

Alex finally lifts his head and meets Miles’s gaze. It takes a moment for his eyes to come into focus, like he’s mentally still contemplating the order of the words on the page in front of him. His dark eyes reflect the light from the television, making them appear as though they're sparkling. 

“Not really," Alex says finally, with that blunt honesty he occasionally displays. "Probably just a coincidence or summat.” 

Miles nods slowly. “Yeah. ‘Spose you’re right.” 

Alex looks at him for another moment, before he bumps Miles’s hip with his shoulder. “Or maybe it is destiny. What do I know, eh?”

“Well," Miles says, cocking an eyebrow, "you definitely don’t know what this film’s about, seein’ as you haven’t bloody been payin' attention for the past half hour, have you?"

Alex pouts, sticking out his bottom lip. "I got inspired. Can't very well ignore the muses' call, can I?"

“You’re always inspired. You oughta do somethin' else sometimes, you know. I reckon even your big brain could do with a break from producin’ all those big ideas occasionally.”

Alex wrinkles his nose. “Yeah, well. Never know when it might suddenly end though, do I? What if it all dries up tomorrow? Gotta make the most of the big ideas while I still have ‘em.” 

“Oh, pffft," Miles scoffs, rolling his eyes. "You live and breathe music, Al, same as me. We’re still gonna be doing this when we’re pushin' forty, you mark my words.” 

Alex glances up at him again, something in his eyes that Miles can’t immediately name. “Yeah?” 

“‘Course. You ‘n me, baby. Rockin’ and rollin’ till we’re old and grey.”

The smile Alex gives him in return is small, the corners of his mouth barely lifting, but there's a warmth in his eyes that tells Miles he’s said something right. They gaze at each other for a moment before, too soon, Alex looks away again, turning his attention back to his notebook. 

Miles takes the opportunity to look at him a little longer, watching as Alex gets subsumed into his own little world once more. It's endlessly fascinating to him, watching Alex work. How he taps his pen against the page, chewing thoughtfully on the end of it, a light furrow taking up semi-permanent residence between his eyebrows while he ruminates. His mouth moves occasionally, soundlessly shaping the words that drift through his mind until he latches on to the right ones, the ones that boast the privilege of being cherry-picked by Alex Turner himself and that get to materialise in the form of dark ink on smudged paper.

Something warm and soft buzzes at the centre of Miles's chest at the sight. Even after three years of friendship, watching Alex do his thing is one of his favourite pastimes, especially since Alex rarely seems to realise he's being watched. Or maybe he just doesn’t care, when it’s Miles. Maybe he's just happy for Miles to be privy to his most authentic state, the one he knows not many others get to see. The thought makes Miles smile again, and he reaches out to affectionately ruffle Alex’s unruly mop of brown hair before reluctantly turning his attention back to the telly. 

Before long, Miles is once again fully engrossed in the events unfolding on the screen, specifically the wild car chase that is now in full swing. He barely notices that his hand is still resting in Alex’s hair, nor does he realise he’s started idly running his fingers through it, absentmindedly playing with the shiny locks, until an explosion on the screen startles him. The shock of it makes his hand tighten reflexively, causing him to accidentally pull on Alex's hair. 

What Miles might have expected to happen in response, had he ever considered this unlikely scenario before, would be for Alex to say something like ‘Oi’ or ‘What the heck, Miles?’, maybe even give him a betrayed look or a shove.

What he would not have expected in a million and a half years, however, is for Alex to moan.

There's no denying it. It's an unmistakable moan. A throaty, broken sound that Miles has definitely never heard Alex make before, because he'd know if he had. It’s similar to the sound Alex sometimes makes when he’s performing with the Monkeys, at the start of a bridge or a solo, but it’s also not like that at all. Because where those moans are deliberate and showy, this one is clearly accidental, and therefore much, much more intimate.

They both freeze, Miles's hand still gripping Alex’s hair while the ghost of the moan continues to echo inescapably through the room.

On the screen, the other Al is still shouting orders, but Miles can no longer hear him over the racket of his own mind, yelling at him to do something. Objectively, he knows he should do something, it's just that he just doesn't know what. What the hell do you do when your best friend moans because you’ve accidentally pulled on his hair? Should he laugh it off? Start moaning as well, just to normalise it? Crack a joke to break the odd tension that's suddenly filled the room? Unfortunately, his spinning thoughts seem incapable of deciding on the correct course of action, so instead, he does absolutely nothing. 

And anyway, it's been too long now since it happened, and Alex isn't doing anything either. In fact, he’s gone completely still, his head slightly bowed, hair obscuring his face from Miles's view. The lines of his back and shoulders are rigid and tense.

Miles doesn’t know what makes him do it. Maybe it’s curiosity, plain and simple, or maybe he’s experiencing a temporary bout of recklessness bordering on insanity. Whatever it is, after a couple more excruciating seconds, Miles loosens his tight grip on Alex’s hair but doesn't retract his hand all the way. Instead he slowly, carefully, resumes his petting, even as his heart continues to hammer in his chest for a reason he can’t quite pinpoint. Ever so gently, he starts to drag his fingers through the silky strands, his attention laser focused on Alex's reaction, ready to pull back at the first indication that Alex is uncomfortable.

But Alex doesn't move, except for the visible shiver that runs through him when Miles lets his fingertips lightly graze his scalp. He doesn’t say or do anything to stop Miles or show any sign of obvious distress – so even though his heart feels like it's about to beat right out of his chest, Miles steadfastly continues his ministrations. A hushed kind of silence has fallen over the room, like all the air has been sucked out of it. The sound of the television and the muted noise of kids playing outside feel irrelevant all of a sudden, subservient to the low hum of tension between them that grows louder by the second. By now, Miles is hyper-aware of every one of Alex's breaths, which seem to get quicker and more uneven the longer Miles continues combing his fingers through his soft hair. Miles isn’t sure what exactly that means, but since it doesn’t seem to mean anything bad, per se, he doesn’t stop.

And then, driven by an impulse that he should probably quell but for some reason finds he can’t, Miles proceeds to purposely grab a handful of Alex's thick hair and give it a quick, firm tug. 

On cue, Alex groans softly. 

The sound, low as it is, shoots through Miles like a zing of electricity, straight to his lower half. He sucks in a sharp breath, surprised by the intensity of the feeling, which is only amplified by the realisation of just what that little groan seems to mean.

It means Alex likes that. 

He likes it when Miles plays with his hair. When he pulls on it. 

And what’s more – Miles likes that he likes it.

Really, it shouldn’t come as quite such a shock. Alex is good looking, after all –  Miles has always known that. Just because he has myopia doesn’t mean he's totally blind. But he's always seen it in an abstract kind of way, just a fact of life, similar to the fact that Alex is brilliant, kind, funny, and altogether the best mate Miles could ever have asked for.

Now though, Miles realises with a shock he imagines isn’t dissimilar to being hit by lightning that Alex isn't just good looking – he's attractive. Miles is attracted to him, and all of a sudden, his body is screaming at him to act on the attraction.

"Alex.” Miles doesn’t even really mean to speak, his voice uncomfortably loud in the deafening quiet of the room even though he’s practically whispering.

Alex doesn't say anything in reply. He still hasn’t moved, and he’s breathing like he's trying to control his inhalations. Like he’s hoping that if he only stays still enough, he’ll eventually become one with the bed and turn invisible, and he won’t have to deal with any of this. Frankly, Miles can’t blame him. Still, Miles knows they have no choice but to deal with it, and he reckons it’s better to do it sooner rather than later. It’ll only get more awkward the longer they refuse to address it. 

"Alex,” he repeats, intentionally this time. “Hey, look at me.” When Alex doesn’t react, Miles lightly tugs on Alex's hair again, urging him to turn his head. "C’mon, Al. ‘S just me, yeah?"

He can see the exact moment Alex finally caves, his tense shoulders sagging minutely, as though accepting the inevitability of his fate. And even though Miles was the one who told him to look up, he's woefully unprepared for the moment their eyes finally meet. 

Alex’s eyes are round and dark, his pupils blown wide, cheeks flushed and slightly parted lips stained red, like he's been biting at in an effort to stay still. His hair is tousled from where Miles has been running his fingers through it, and the overall effect is stunning. Alex looks almost unrealistically beautiful, an untouchable work of art, yet simultaneously so bone-crushingly real that Miles finds himself having the most visceral reaction to the sight of him. He's bowled over by it, by a wave of want so strong it'd have knocked his socks clean off, had he been wearing any.

"Jesus," he breathes, apparently no longer in charge of his own mouth, "look at you." 

Instantly, Alex flinches, eyes quickly skittering away again.

It takes Miles only a moment to realise that Alex must think he's mocking him. "Shit, no, that’s not–” he amends hastily, grasping for the right words, “I just– you look… I mean –  I’ve just never seen you like this, but… god, Al." He swallows hard, his throat suddenly dry. "You… you’re gorgeous, you know that?"

Alex blinks slowly as he processes this, his lashes casting shadows on his cheekbones. When he finally looks back at Miles, his eyes are bigger than Miles has ever seen them. It’s not the first time the expression 'like a deer in the headlights' has flashed through his head when Alex looks at him, but it’s never felt more apt than at this moment.

“I –” Alex swallows audibly, his Adam’s apple bobbing with it. “Oh."

They look at each other for a long, breathless moment while they adjust to the situation. Neither of them speaks again, as though they're both afraid to say something that might disturb the precarious balance and make this whole thing come tumbling down around them like a house of cards. 

Miles isn’t sure how many seconds tick by like this, but eventually, he takes a breath and steels himself. Careful not to spook Alex or break the spell of the moment, Miles releases Alex’s hair and lets his hand just barely stroke down the side of Alex's face, lightly brushing his smooth cheek with the backs of his fingers. He watches with bated breath as Alex's eyes flutter closed, his lips parting slightly and his breathing deepening. 

The reaction emboldens Miles just enough to keep tracing the familiar lines of Alex’s face, marvelling at the way Alex’s cheekbones feel hot to the touch with the force of his blush when he gently caresses them. He moves down along the curve of his defined jawline, before finally swiping the pad of his thumb over Alex’s slightly chapped bottom lip. He lingers there, raptly watching the way the plump flesh gives under his touch when he lightly presses down it. Alex makes a tiny, involuntary sound in response, and the mere idea that this seems to be affecting Alex just as much as it’s affecting him makes a hot thrill race up Miles’s spine. 

The fact that it seems Alex is getting somewhat turned on just from Miles playing with his hair and petting him a bit… It's a lot to process. Not even the magic of the stage lights can compare to the thrilling mix of power and awe Miles feels at seeing Alex like this, and knowing he’s the cause of it.

Alex's quickened breath is hot and moist against his finger, and suddenly, Miles can't resist the temptation of pushing his thumb just slightly past the barrier of those pliant lips, swiping it across the velvety soft inside of his bottom one. Inside, it's smooth and wet, and Miles groans and shifts where he sits, his trousers starting to grow uncomfortably tight. He feels like he’s walking tightrope, and if he doesn’t steady himself soon, he’ll lose his balance and plunge into the depths of whatever is waiting for him below.

Of course, that's the moment that Alex, almost hesitantly and while watching Miles intently, chooses to lick Miles’s thumb. It's only a tiny lick, barely there at all, but it’s the intent behind it that instantly fans the glowing embers of Miles's arousal into a roaring fire. A choked-off sound escapes him, and before he fully knows what he's doing, Miles is scrambling to his knees, grabbing Alex's shoulder and pushing it to roll him over. Alex gasps in surprise but doesn't protest, turning obediently onto his back and staring up at Miles with wide, startled eyes. His chest is heaving with his rapid breaths and his shirt has ridden up slightly to reveal a sliver of pale, smooth stomach, and below that –

Miles has to bite back an embarrassing groan at the proof that he isn’t the only one affected by whatever the hell is happening here. For a moment, he can’t help but stare blatantly, once again caught off guard by his own body's reaction to Alex's current state. He feels almost feverish, like he’s burning up from the inside, his hands itching to reach out and touch. When he finally manages to tear his eyes away from the obvious tent in Alex's jeans, Miles drags his gaze over the rest of Alex's body, taking in every inch of him with eager eyes.

How had he failed to notice before today just how gorgeous Alex actually is? Every last bit of him is alluring, from his bare ankles to his delicate wrists, although it’s his eyes that Miles ultimately can’t seem to look away from. They're so big and dark, filled to the brim with a potent mixture of apprehension, arousal and trust that cuts right down to Miles's marrow. It’s hard to think straight with the confusing whirlwind of feelings rushing through him, but even so, he’s fairly sure that most of the emotions he’s feeling right now aren’t actually new at all. The affection and love, that deep fondness, the desire to keep close and protect, and underneath that, a constant thrum of excitement at simply being in Alex’s presence – none of those things feel unfamiliar. It’s always felt like a thrill to Miles, getting to be Alex’s friend and confidant, the person he trusts unconditionally. To share things with him, private things, secure in the knowledge that neither he nor Alex would ever violate the other’s trust. 

But while the feelings in themselves aren’t new, the realisation of what they imply sure is. It's suddenly so glaringly obvious, Miles almost can't believe he didn't see it before. 

He wants Alex. 

Wants to have him and give him everything, wants to cherish him and make him smile, and simultaneously ruin him in ways he's never even dreamed of ruining anyone before. He wants to make him cry out in pleasure, make him beg, and most of all, he wants Alex to want him to.

"Miles," Alex says, his low, raspy voice cutting through Miles's reverie.

Miles blinks, forcibly dragging his thoughts back to the present. "Al? What is it?"

Alex's eyes seem somehow even bigger than they did a moment ago, huge and imploring, and the only thing he says is, 

"Please."

A shiver runs through Miles, from the base of his spine to the top of his crown. It's intoxicating, hearing Alex plead. He may look innocent, with his fluffy hair and overall fawn-like appearance, but at his core, he's still the same bright, sharp-eyed, snarky kid that Miles first met three years ago. Despite his bouts of shyness and introvertedness, Alex is clever and quick-witted and headstrong, and he doesn’t take shit from anyone – not even from Miles. So for Alex to let Miles see him like this, in such an utterly vulnerable state… It’s – god. Miles can’t even begin to describe how it makes him feel. 

Exhaling heavily, Miles leans forward, hovering over Alex and hesitating for the space of just one more heartbeat before reaching out, deliberately laying a hand on the taut planes of Alex's bared stomach. At the touch, Alex sucks in a breath, gaze fixed on Miles's face, watching him intently as Miles slowly starts to move his hand upwards, dragging it across Alex’s torso and rucking up his shirt a little further to expose more pale skin. Alex is literally trembling under his touch, Miles can feel it; a light tremor rocking his lithe body. His hips lift slightly off the mattress, too, as if chasing the touch – as if willing Miles to touch him more.

Oh, he's so responsive. If Miles had ever stopped to think about what Alex would be like in a situation like this, he thinks he might’ve known. Though people often describe him as dreamy, Alex is without a doubt one of the most perceptive people Miles has ever met. Within the confines of his own mind, Alex responds to absolutely everything. It’s not always visible, because Alex doesn’t always want it to be, but Miles can always tell. So of course it would be fascinating seeing him in a state such as this, too preoccupied and overwhelmed by half to even attempt to conceal anything he's feeling. The result is revelatory, enough to blow Miles's mind wide open. It's as though he’s suddenly seeing the extremely familiar shape of his best friend through a different lens; a lens heavily coloured by a desire so strong it almost takes Miles’s breath away.

Miles's hand shakes slightly as it slips under Alex's shirt, mapping out the planes of his smooth, flat stomach. The skin over his ribs is so tantalisingly warm and soft under his palm it makes his mouth water. The moment Miles's calloused fingertips brush Alex's nipple, Alex moans again; a soft, breathy sound, his back arching into the touch.

“Fuckin’ hell,” Miles groans, his throat suddenly tight with want. "You’re so fuckin’ sexy like this, Alex, Jesus." 

"Miles –"

"Yeah,” Miles says, watching Alex intently. “Yeah, I got you, what do you want?”

Alex sighs, eyelids fluttering as he blinks open his eyes. Slowly, his gaze comes back into focus before homing in on Miles's mouth in a way that reminds Miles of a cat fixating on a potential prey.

Miles swallows, his stomach flipping with excitement. Even though he’s pretty sure he knows the answer, he has to ask one more time, just to be absolutely sure he’s not reading this all wrong. “What do you want, Alex?”

Alex's gaze flickers up to meet Miles’s, hesitant and bold at the same time – and then, with two little words, he takes away the final shred of doubt.  

"Kiss me."

The words have barely left Alex's mouth or Miles is lunging forward, sinking a hand into Alex's hair again and tugging his head back to make his mouth open on a silent moan and his eyes roll back into his head. For a moment, Miles merely touches his own mouth against Alex's, their breaths hot and moist in the nonexistent space between them. Miles’s entire body feels like a livewire, thrumming with breathless anticipation and a sense that after this moment, his life will forever be divided into a Before and After.

The notion that he really is about to kiss Alex, his best friend in the world, is as insane as it is thrilling. Not fifteen minutes ago, he didn't even know he wanted this, and now he thinks he's probably never wanted anything more.

And then, with a sigh that feels like it’s coming all the way from his toes, Miles finally closes the distance between them. The moment he presses their mouths together, Alex makes a shocked sound, like he almost wasn’t expecting Miles to actually do it. It only makes Miles more keen to show him just how much he wants this, and since this isn't the time or place for tentativeness, he doesn’t waste a moment in licking into Alex's open mouth, desperately eager to learn his taste. What he finds has him instantly hooked, Alex’s taste, brand new yet at the same time strangely familiar, rewiring his brain for good. 

God, but he wants to swallow him whole.

As if hearing his thoughts, Alex opens his mouth wider, letting Miles in as though he wants to be devoured by him as much as Miles wants to devour him, before he makes a sound at the back of his throat and starts kissing him back with fervour. It’s like they're starving for it, the way they kiss hard and open, their eagerness more than making up for the lack of finesse. Miles distantly registers that while he’s enthusiastically groping at Alex – the hand that’s not in Alex’s hair grabbing at his hip, his thigh, his arse, anywhere he can reach – Alex's hands are still curled into fists at his sides, almost like he’s waiting for permission to touch him back.

"You can touch me, too," Miles breathes, after reluctantly tearing himself away from Alex’s addictive mouth. "If – if ya want."

For a moment, Alex doesn’t move, apart from the heaving of his chest. Finally, though, he lifts his hands to Miles's sides, only to leave them lightly resting there like he’s not sure what he’s supposed to do with them. Since Miles knows for a fact that Alex is no blushing virgin – he’s heard the stories, seen the hickeys – it seems more likely that his hesitancy stems rather from the fact that it’s him, and it’s them, and Alex is just scared of inadvertently screwing things up between them. 

Finding himself moved by Alex's hesitancy in ways he couldn't express if he wanted to, Miles leans in to kiss him again, pouring all of his fondness into it and willing Alex to understand that there is nothing he could possibly do that would put him off. It seems the message somehow gets across, because the longer they kiss, the more daring Alex becomes, until finally he’s grabbing at Miles with matching impatience, practically pulling Miles on top of him, clumsy and a little desperate in his eagerness. They're both feeling a bit desperate, Miles thinks, dazed and feverish with need for one another. If he stopped to consider the implications of what they’re doing right now, he might just find himself wondering if any of this is actually a good idea – so he doesn't. 

Instead, he focuses on the feeling of Alex below him, pushing his body up against Miles’s as if begging to be touched. Answering Alex's wordless plea, Miles slips a leg between Alex's, experimentally pressing down on the hardness there.

"Fuck," Alex gasps, his hips bucking to rut against Miles’s thigh. "Oh, fuck."

Miles grinds down harder against him, groaning at the intimacy of the sensation. "Jesus, Al. Fuck."

Miles doesn’t know what’s turning him on more – the friction on his own dick or the feeling of Alex writhing underneath him, taking his pleasure against Miles’s thigh. It’s so easy to get lost in it once they find a rhythm, the hunger growing, building steadily with every maddening roll of their hips, but somehow, Miles manages to hold himself back from the brink. They'll both come in their pants before long if they keep this up, there's no doubt about that, and he just doesn't want it to end so soon. With considerable effort, he manages to still his hips, his arms trembling from the strain of holding himself up. 

Alex makes a noise of protest, a mewling sort of sound escaping him as his hands scrabble at Miles’s back, trying to get him to move again. "Ugh, Miles, come on."

"Al – Alex, can I –"

"Yeah."

Miles laughs breathlessly, pulling back to look down at Alex. "You don't even know what I was gonna say."

"Don't care," Alex pants, looking flushed and sweaty and beautiful. "Anythin’ you want, just – do something, please."

For a moment, Miles can’t do anything but stare at him. "Fuck’s sake, Alex,” he finally manages to mutter. “Watch your mouth, will ya? Can’t just say stuff like that and expect me not to lose it.” 

Interestingly, that makes Alex's eyes darken infinitesimally, like the idea of Miles losing it isn’t exactly putting him off. Miles gulps. Not breaking eye contact, he sits up slowly, trailing his hand down Alex's stomach until he reaches the waistband of his jeans, and pausing there. Okay? he asks wordlessly, knowing Alex will hear him anyway.

Alex gives a shaky nod. Okay.

With trembling hands, Miles fumbles with the button on Alex's jeans and slowly drags down his zipper. Once they're open, he pulls them down an inch or two, waiting until Alex helpfully lifts his hips before tugging them down further, past the noticeable bulge in Alex’s navy boxer briefs. Miles greedily takes in the sight, particularly the wet patch that’s formed at the front; proof of just how turned on Alex is already. Turned on by Miles, or at the very least by his touch.

Blowing out a controlled breath, Miles tentatively reaches out, running a single finger up the length of Alex’s erection. When just that makes Alex moan, his hips bucking, Miles decides to get a little bolder, cupping his hand lightly around the hardness hidden beneath the soft fabric, just to feel out the shape of him. Alex’s breath hitches. When Miles squeezes him gently, his eyes roll back in his head and he presses up into Miles’s palm, gyrating his hips. The sight has Miles’s stomach tying itself into knots of desire, and he’s acting purely on instinct when he grabs Alex a little more firmly, marvelling at how impossibly hard and hot he feels in his hand.

"Ungh," Alex grunts. "Ah- Miles, you too, please, I w-want–" His hands scrabble uncoordinatedly at Miles's waistband, trying to get what he wants across without having to use any more pesky words. Since Miles has always found it hard to deny Alex anything, let alone something he has such a keen interest in himself, he hastily unfastens his own trousers, pulling them down before bending back over him, as fast as he can without running the risk of accidentally kneeing him in the groin. 

"Oh my god," Miles moans, the moment they first rub up against each other. Even with the barrier of their underwear between them, it feels bloody fantastic, and he rolls down his hips instinctively to chase the pleasure. At the same time, though, it’s not nearly enough – which is why he’s never been more glad to find that he and Alex are, as ever, on the same page.

"Wait,” Alex huffs, clear impatience in his tone, “can you- can we just…"

“Yeah, wait, gimme a sec.” 

They shimmy and squirm clumsily for a moment in order to lower their boxers, too impatient to take off their clothes entirely, and then finally, there are no barriers left between them. In that moment, Miles truly wonders if he’s died and gone to heaven, or if he’s maybe just having an exceptionally vivid dream. Either option would make a hell of a lot more sense than the notion that any of this is really happening. The feel of his bare cock sliding alongside Alex's for the first time is nothing short of sensational, magnifying the earlier pleasure tenfold and pretty much instantly turning Miles’s brain to soup. He grunts, rutting down harder to chase the friction while they cling to each other, trading open-mouthed kisses. It's inelegant and messy, and Miles wouldn’t have it any other way.

"Al…" Miles groans, pressing his nose into the crook of Alex’s clammy neck. "Alex, oh god. You're so- fuck…"

"Yeah," Alex pants, one hand on the back of Miles’s neck and the other grabbing at his arse, pulling him even closer, "Fuck, fuck, yes."

Once the slide starts to grow noticeably slicker with their arousal, Miles distantly considers reaching down and touching Alex, maybe even wrapping a hand around the both of them. At the same time, he knows he won't last long enough for that. A particularly well-aimed thrust on Alex's part has him gasping, and suddenly he's right there on the edge. “I'm- oh fuck. Al, baby, I'm so close."

Alex makes a muffled sound, his mouth open against Miles’s shoulder like he’s about to sink his teeth into him. They’re both sweaty and out of breath by now, clothes askew and hair a mess and hands all over the place, the air in the room thick with the sounds and scent of their need. Miles is more turned on than he thinks he's ever been in his entire life, and Alex seems to be in a similar state, his face flushed and mouth open as he pants, breaths growing more erratic the closer he gets. Without conscious thought, Miles’s hand finds its way into the mess of Alex’s dishevelled curls again and gives it a sharp tug, more forceful than before. He’s rewarded with the sight of Alex’s eyes rolling back and his mouth going slack, a blissful sigh falling from his lips.

It hits Miles again, then. Really hits him that while he probably knows Alex better than he knows anyone, he's never known him like this. He’s seen Alex in all sorts of states – happy, angry, drunk, enthused and agitated – but never out of his mind with lust. Miles may be biassed, but he thinks it might well be the most beautiful Alex has ever looked. He already knows, in the same way he knew when he first laid eyes on Alex that this was someone who would be in his life forever, that he'll never forget the sight of Alex hurtling towards his climax for as long as he lives. Dizzy with affection, Miles leans down to messily kiss Alex's again, claiming his slack mouth in a deep, hungry kiss.

Suddenly, Alex gasps twice in quick succession, his body growing taut below Miles and his fingers digging sharply into his backside. "Oh," he sobs, his voice breaking even on that one syllable, "oh, I'm- Mi- Miles, oh." 

Miles watches, captivated, as Alex throws his head back, his mouth opening on a silent moan, as if shocked by the force of his own climax. The sight of Alex’s face screwed up in bliss as he tips over the edge is more than enough to get Miles there, too, and he finally allows himself to let go, giving over to the tide of pleasure that washes over him, wave after rippling wave. He clings to Alex and Alex clings to him right back, the two of them gasping into each other’s mouths as they ride out their climaxes.

For an endless moment, there’s just nothing. Nothing except Alex’s breath in Miles’s ear, his smell in his nose, drowning out any and all thoughts before they even have a chance to form. As they slowly start to come to again, Miles finds that his head is resting on Alex's chest, and one of Alex's hands is on Miles’s head, fingers threaded into his hair in a mirror image of how this whole thing began.

Alex hums, a low, lazy sound.

Carefully, Miles lifts his head a fraction, cracking one eye open to peek at him. "Alright?"

"What do you think?" Alex husks after a moment, his raspy voice sending renewed frisson of desire through Miles's spent body. "Jesus, Miles, that were…" He trails off, heaving a big, shuddering sigh.

Miles is pretty sure that if Alex hadn't just had a bloody fantastic orgasm, he'd be fretting and overthinking things a lot more right about now, but as it is, this suits Miles perfectly fine. Plenty of time for all that later; now’s the time to cuddle. He huffs an exhausted laugh, dropping his head back on Alex’s chest. "Yeah," he agrees. “It were, weren’t it?” 

They lay there for a while, just holding each other, listening to the steadying rhythm of each other’s heartbeats and the faraway sounds of whatever movie or show came on the telly after Heat ended. 

When Miles feels like he can move again, he lifts his head to look at Alex properly. His heart promptly skips a solid beat. Alex looks… Honestly, Miles can’t even find the words for it; all he knows is that it’s making his chest ache. Alex’s hair is a mess, sticking up in all directions. His lips are red-raw and swollen from kissing, his eyes shining, and there’s a rosy blush high on his cheeks that almost gives him a Disney princess-like appearance.

"What?" Alex asks, when Miles just stares at him without saying anything. There’s a glimmer of that earlier uncertainty in his eyes again, making Miles’s heart squeeze in sympathy.

He quickly shakes his head. "Nothing, nothing. Just –” He swallows, licking his lips. “You’re so fuckin’ pretty, Al. It’s mental." 

The word feels terribly clumsy, but they still make Alex's breath hitch, his eyes widening and cheeks growing noticeably redder. "Oh." 

"I mean it," Miles insists earnestly. “Always knew you were a looker, 'course, what with all them girls throwin’ themselves at ya and all that. But – I dunno, it's more than that." He slowly reaches up, telegraphing his movements, before gently stroking his thumb over Alex's cheekbone, just below the line of Alex’s lashes when his eyes flutter closed again. "Bloody hell, love. Just look at ya."

"Miles," Alex breathes, already starting to squirm again, "don’t–"

“Don’t what? Tell you what I’m seein’?” Miles smirks, leaning up to look Alex in the eye. “You know me, baby, I always tell the truth. And the truth is that you’ve got the prettiest face I’ve ever seen.” 

Delightfully, his words only make Alex’s cheeks turn redder. Miles doesn’t think he’ll ever get tired of seeing him blush. He liked it before, too, when he didn’t know all the reasons why he liked it, and now that he does, he likes it even better. When Alex shyly bites his lip, Miles has no choice but to lean in to get a taste of it himself. He nudges Alex’s nose with his own, waiting until Alex gasps softly before taking his bottom lip between his teeth and nibbling at it lightly, sucking it into his mouth.

Alex hums happily, snaking his arms around Miles’s neck to draw him closer. Already, Miles can feel his cock start to stir again, roused by the sight and smell and feel of Alex, so temptingly warm and pliant against him. 

Feeling lucky, Miles lets his lips ghost over Alex’s and asks, “Think you can go again?”

"Fuck," Alex groans immediately, tugging at the hair at the back of Miles's neck. "Yeah, shit. Come on."

Miles slips a hand between them, excitement fluttering in his gut when he realises Alex is already halfway hard again, too. At Alex’s sharp intake of breath, Miles stills his hand and pulls back a little to look at him. "Too much?" 

“No.” Alex bites his lip again, shaking his head with his eyes still closed. "Well, yes. But – I like it."

Miles exhales slowly, briefly resting his forehead against Alex’s. "Christ, Al…"

Gripping him tighter, Miles starts to move his hand along Alex’s cock, aided by the earlier wetness in slowly stroking him back into full hardness. It doesn’t take long at all to get him there, which means that Alex must be just as into this as Miles is. On some level, that’s a relief, because Miles feels almost insane with it, with how much he wants. Knowing Alex is right there with him makes it just a little more bearable. It’s not hard to tell that the rougher he is with it, the harder Alex gets, the needier his breathless little noises become. By now, Alex’s eyes are screwed shut as if he's in pain, but he's murmuring encouragement and thrusting eagerly into Miles’s tight grip, so Miles doesn't let up. Once, Alex tries to reach down and wrap his fingers around Miles in return, only for Miles to bat his hand away and use his body to pin Alex down to the mattress – which, judging by Alex's increasingly worked up sounds, is exactly what he was angling for.

It’s then that Miles gets an idea – a hunch, really. One that he really hopes is correct, and if it isn’t, he'll just have to hope Alex can laugh it off instead of feeling uncomfortable.

"Alex," he starts, leaning down to breathe the words directly into Alex's ear, lips just brushing the shell. "You ever been fingered?" 

Alex's reaction is instantaneous, his body jerking as violently as if Miles had prodded him with a taser instead of asking him a simple question. "Oh," Alex groans, his cock twitching noticeably in Miles's hand. "No- oh god, please, please…"

Even though it's not exactly coherent, Miles has no trouble understanding what he means. He doesn’t usually apply such backward logic to situations like these, but that no is a yes if ever he heard one. Miles grins into the crook Alex's neck, letting his teeth scrape lightly over the soft skin. "Oh, you like that idea, do ya? Okay, I can work with that." After nuzzling the underside of Alex's jaw, he licks a stripe up his throat, tasting salt and smelling only Alex. He inhales deeply, barely suppressing a growl. "You smell so fuckin' good, Al, just wanna take a bite out of ya, god."

The sound Alex lets out at that is definitely closer to a sob than a laugh, and not for the first time today, Miles thinks he's learning something about his best friend that few, if any, other people know about. Even through the haze of lust, it feels like a privilege to him, similar to how it's always felt when Alex trusted him with a secret or a private smile in a crowded room, only amplified in the most intoxicating way.

Sitting back, Miles grabs the legs of Alex's jeans and pulls them fully off. As pale as they are, Alex's legs are long and lean, and stronger than you’d expect on someone his size. Miles had distantly noticed that before, whenever they’d gone swimming or on the rare occasions Alex had worn shorts. Perhaps he'd even ogled them a little, though he didn’t quite realise it back then. Now that he’s allowed to do more than secretly ogle, Miles doesn’t waste time in leaning down to kiss those milky thighs, curious whether they're as soft as they look. He's not disappointed. Alex's hand lands on the back of Miles's head, fingers threading into the strands to try and guide him to where he wants him, but Miles resists, grinning wickedly against the soft skin on the inside of Alex's thigh before biting down, quickly but sharply. 

Alex squawks indignantly, jolting half upright and fixing Miles with a glare. His hair is standing up in all directions, and combined with the scowl on his blushing face and the fact that he's naked from the waist down, he looks ever so slightly ridiculous in the most endearing, sexiest way possible. 

"I did warn ya," Miles shrugs, unrepentant. "Said I wanted to eat you up, didn’t I?"

"Yeah, and you also said you were gonna finger me, if I’m not mistaken," Alex shoots back brazenly, raising his chin in challenge. "What’s happened to that, eh?"

"Jesus Christ, Al," Miles chokes, eyes bulging. “I were gettin’ to that bit, actually, believe it or not."

"Well, you should get to it faster," Alex tells him, leaning back on his elbows, his keen tracking Miles's every move.

“Ooohh, feelin' a bit needy, are we?” Miles grins, teasingly dragging his fingers through the mess on Alex's stomach. “That’s cute, Al.” Pointedly ignoring Alex's indignant huff as well as his cock where it lies hard and flushed against his pale stomach, Miles leisurely traces a path downwards. He nudges at Alex’s knee to get him to spread his legs wider. "Put your feet on the mattress.”

Alex shuffles around a little until his feet are planted firmly on the mattress on either side of Miles. "Like this?" 

Miles hums approvingly, letting his gaze travel over Alex’s form to appreciate the sight he makes. “Perfect. Ready?”

Alex's eyes are hooded as he gives Miles a quick nod. "Yeah. Think so." 

"Let me know if you want me to stop though, yeah?"

Alex swallows. "Yeah, okay."

Miles keeps his eyes on Alex’s face as he reaches further down, to touch him where no one else has touched him before. Truth be told, the only fingering experience Miles has is with birds, and then he's never actually done it round that way, so to speak. But he reckons it can't be that different. It’s all just body stuff, and Miles happens to enjoy bodies, and he’s never shied away from trying anything new, either. He'll just make sure to pay close attention to Alex's reactions and figure it out as he goes along, the same way he usually learns things.

That doesn’t mean his heart doesn’t still hammer in his chest as he experimentally swirls the tip of his come-coated finger around Alex's rim, taking his time to familiarise himself with this new part of him. The furled skin feels soft to the touch, almost delicate, yet at the same time impossibly tense. 

"Try to relax, yeah?” Miles murmurs, sending Alex a reassuring smile. "I don't wanna hurt ya.” He spends another minute drawing little circles, letting Alex get used to the touch, and keeps at it until Alex finally relaxes, lying back on the mattress and breathing out slowly. “That's it,” Miles praises softly, “just like that." Once he starts pressing a little more insistently, to make his intentions known, he leans down to press a kiss to the jut of Alex’s hipbone. "You gonna let me in, Alex?"

Breathing out, Alex nods, visibly willing himself to stay relaxed.

“Good,” Miles murmurs, and then carefully but deliberately pushes the slick tip of his forefinger past the tight ring of muscle. Even just that minor breach, shallow as it is, is enough to make Miles’s mind spin, the heat and tightness of Alex’s body unlike anything he’s ever experienced before.

When Alex inhales sharply, Miles stills again. "Alright?"

"Yeah, just –" Alex vaguely flaps a hand in his direction, "keep –"

"Um, okay. Alright." Miles takes another deep breath of his own, suddenly feeling somewhat out of his depth. So far, he’s just been feeling his way around, keeping his eyes on Alex’s face to gauge his reaction, but since he’s not actually one hundred percent sure what he’s doing, he’s kind of starting to wish he had a visual. “You can say no,” he starts, not wanting to freak Alex out, “but, um. Is it – is it okay if I look? Down there, I mean.”

Alex makes a strangled noise, throwing an arm over his eyes. “Jesus,” he breathes. “Yeah. Look all you want. That’s – fuck.” 

Miles blinks. That’s not the reaction he was expecting, though maybe he should have. A sly smile finds its way onto his face. “Oh, you like bein’ watched, Alex? Thought I were the one who got off on bein’ the centre of attention.”

“Yeah well, maybe you’re rubbin’ off on me.”

Miles grins devilishly, even though Alex can’t see him. “Not yet I’m not, but that’s not a half bad idea.”

Alex groans again, but this time it’s in exasperation rather than arousal. “I knew you were gonna say that, you git.” 

“And I knew you were gonna say that, gorgeous.”

The off-beat endearment has Alex’s breath hitching in his throat, and just like that, the teasing makes way for that charged, weightier atmosphere again. Feeling the urgency, Miles shuffles downwards and lies down on his stomach, his shoulders between Alex’s knees, and suddenly, he has an unobstructed view of where his and Alex’s bodies are currently joined. And that’s just – Christ. Miles curses, heat burning through him at the sheer, mind-blowing intimacy of the situation, not to mention the tantalising visual. Of course Alex is lovely down here too, pink skin and soft, dark hair, his now familiar, slightly musky scent even more mouthwatering up close. 

Barely able to believe he’s really doing this, Miles gathers himself and pushes on, pressing his forefinger into the tight heat of Alex's body until he’s buried inside to the knuckle. Already, he's desperately turned on by the sight of his finger disappearing into Alex, captivated by the way his rim stretches ever so slightly to accommodate him. Even though he just came not twenty minutes ago and hasn’t touched himself once since, Miles feels his own cock throb where it's pressed into the mattress. 

By now, Alex is breathing hard, evidently needing some time to adjust to the foreign sensation, so Miles gives him a moment, leaning down to tenderly kiss the inside of Alex's thigh. “It doesn’t hurt, does it?” 

Alex shakes his head, his voice a little tight when he answers, “Nah, ‘s just. Bit weird.”

“Want me to stop?”

“No.” The reply is instantaneous. “I, uh. I quite like it weird.”

Miles huffs a fond laugh. “Don’t I know it, baby. Okay, so I’m just gonna…” 

“Yeah,” Alex says, his breathing gone shallow with anticipation.

Slowly, Miles pulls out his finger about halfway before he pushes it all the way back in. That coaxes a strangled sound from Alex that makes more of Miles’s blood rush southward, so he does it again, chasing those sounds over and over, until the resistance of Alex’s body becomes almost nonexistent and his finger slides in and out with ease. Just as Miles had expected, reading Alex's reactions and taking his cues from there isn't very complicated at all. It’s pretty clear he’s into this, and that he wants more, too, if the way he’s almost unconsciously rolling his hips to meet Miles’s movements is any indication. Miles reckons Alex can take a little more, so he lines up his middle finger as well and tries to wiggle it in alongside his index finger. When it doesn't seem to want to go as smoothly as before, though, he feels Alex tense up again.

"Sorry," Miles shushes, pressing another apologetic kiss to the inside of Alex’s knee. “Sorry, love. ‘S a little dry, but I haven’t got any, uh – y’know, stuff.”

“Right,” Alex croaks, lifting his head to look down at him. “So, how d'ya usually..?” 

"Wank?"

Alex snorts, his cheeks adorably flushed. "Yeah?"

"Uh well, I – I just kinda… spit into me hand,” Miles admits, a little sheepishly. "Does the trick well enough."

He doesn't expect Alex to groan hotly at that, but that's exactly what he does. 

“Bloody hell. Just… yeah, Miles, just –” 

Miles stares at him, mind grinding to a screeching halt. “What, you want – you want me to..?” 

“Yes," Alex huffs, somewhat impatiently now. "Just – do it. Spit on me, c’mon.” 

Honestly, Miles is glad he’s already lying down, otherwise that command would have knocked him clean on his arse. He groans and ducks his head, sinking his teeth into the flesh of Alex’s inner thigh again just to give an outlet to the sharp zing of lust that pierces right through him. This time, the bite makes Alex cry out in pleasure rather than indignation, and Miles thinks he might actually pass out from how ridiculously hot this whole thing is.

“Okay,” Miles breathes, his heart pounding so hard he thinks Alex can probably hear it too. “Fuckin' hell, alright.” He takes a moment to gather some saliva in his mouth, and then he pulls back a little, aims, and spits. He watches raptly as it lands on his fingers, halfway buried inside Alex’s hole, before dripping down slowly between them.

“Ah- oh fuck, oh fuck,” Alex gasps, his voice suddenly high and urgent, his chest expanding and contracting rapidly with his increasingly heavy breathing. “Oh my god.”

If there’s one thing Miles didn’t expect the day to bring him when he woke up today, it was finding out that apparently, Alex gets wildly turned on from Miles spitting on him. 

“Jesus, Al,” Miles croaks, a little awed. “You’re filthy, aren’t ya?” He twists his lubricated fingers so they sink deeper inside of Alex, going a little cross-eyed at the sight. “Fuck’s sake, that’s so fuckin’ sexy, that. Oh, you should see yourself, baby, squeezin’ around me fingers…"

Alex moans, his back arching sharply; Miles pushes on until he’s sunk both his fingers into him to the knuckle. Scissoring them experimentally earns a gasp from Alex, and Miles soon finds a rhythm, lazily thrusting his fingers in and out, spitting occasionally for the dual purpose of keeping the slide smooth and making Alex lose his mind a little further.

“More,” Alex whimpers, the third time Miles does it, his voice breaking on the plea. “Another, c’mon, Miles, please.”

“Are you sure?” Far be it from Miles to tell Alex what he can or can’t take, but he still feels plenty tight around him and the last thing he wants to do is hurt Alex, and inadvertently ruin the moment to boot.

“Yeah, I want it. Hnn-need it.”

“Okay, yeah. Whatever you need, love.” Quickly assessing the situation, Miles decides that if he wants to do this properly, he’ll need better access. “Al, can you hold up your legs for me?”

Alex stills. “You mean, like…” 

“Just, grab the back of your knees and hold ‘em. It’ll be easier that way, I think.” 

“Yeah, um.” Alex clears his throat. “Alright, let me just…” He shifts, lifting his legs and putting his hands on the back of his thighs near his knees, to keep them elevated, and suddenly, Miles can see why Alex seemed a little hesitant. In this position, he’s utterly exposed. 

Once again, Miles stares. “Fuckin’ christ,” he blurts out, mind suddenly switched off. “I’ve gotta be the luckiest sod in all of England, haven’t I?”

That makes Alex hack out a disbelieving laugh. “Shut up.”

“I mean it,” Miles insists. “You’re… bloody stunnin’, Al. Every part of ya.”

“Miles.” 

“Yeah, I know, I know. Less talkin’, more fingering.”  

“No, Miles, that’s not-,” Alex stammers, blinking rapidly, “I, um. Just, uh. Thanks.” 

Despite the circumstances, the words make a soft warmth bloom in Miles’s chest. He smiles at Alex. “Don’t need to thank me, ya dolt. Not like I’m not gettin’ somethin’ outta this too, eh?” 

Alex huffs a breathless laugh. “Okay. That’s – I’m… glad. Now can you please get on with it before me arms get tired?”

Miles snorts, throwing him a lazy salute before turning back to the task at hand. Adding just a little more saliva, just to be sure, he carefully squeezes in his ring finger as well, watching in awe as Alex opens impossibly further to accommodate him. It’s a real tight fit now, Alex’s rim reddened and slightly swollen, stretched beyond what Miles would imagine to be comfortable. Still, the visual is spectacular; the filthy image sears itself into Miles’s mind in a way that tells him he won’t ever be able to forget it even if he wanted to – which he very much doubts he ever will. 

By now, Miles has gotten a good feel for Alex’s reactions, and his erratic breathing – coupled with the fact that his poor, neglected cock is still rock-hard and leaking – tells Miles he’s still enjoying himself. So instead of asking if he’s okay to continue, Miles just pushes on through the slight resistance, until Alex relaxes around him and lets out a shuddering sigh.

“How’s that feel?” Miles asks, rotating his fingers and pulling ever so slightly at Alex’s rim.

“That’s- fuck, that’s full,” Alex croaks. “'S good. So good, Miles. Please, oh--”

Miles groans, mouthing at the flesh of Alex’s arse. "Yeah? Like my fingers inside you, do ya?”

“Yeah,” Alex groans, “love your fingers. 'M always wa- ahh, always watchin’–”

“You been watchin’ me?” Miles asks, looking up in surprise. “Really? I didn’t know that.”

“You weren’t- oh god – weren’t supposed’ta.” 

Seeing as dealing with that revelation would require a lot more focus and brainpower than Miles currently has to spare, he makes the executive decision to come back to it later when they aren’t quite so in the middle of having mind-meltingly hot sex. But he does surge up, suddenly needing to kiss Alex more than he needs air, capturing Alex’s surprised mouth in a searing, messy kiss while continuing the movement of his hand. Alex gasps wetly into his mouth. He’s no doubt feeling the strain of Miles’s weight on top of him, pinning his legs to his chest and spreading them even wider. Alex’s hair is plastered to his forehead with sweat, the way Miles imagines his own hair is too, and his eyes are glassy with lust, rolling back a little every time Miles thrusts his fingers deeper inside of him. Sensing it’s what Alex wants, needs, even, Miles is relentless about it, fucking his fingers into him with increasing speed and vigour.  

His heart almost stops in his chest when out of the blue, Alex spasms below him, letting out a surprised, hoarse shout. “Fuck. Oh, do that – oh my god, shit –” 

Miles’s heart rate slowly comes down a little when he realises that Alex’s reaction is one of pleasure, not of pain. He deflates in relief, collecting himself before he dutifully repeats the movement, crooking the tips of his fingers like he’s stroking Alex on the inside. “Like this?”

“I don’t - oh,” Alex gasps suddenly, mouth dropping open. “Yeah, yeah, yes.”  

Despite not really knowing what it is he’s doing that is causing such a reaction, Miles keeps it up, slowing down his pace by a fraction and instead making sure to brush across the same spot over and over. It works like a charm. Suddenly, Alex goes even wilder for it, starting to fuck himself back on Miles’s fingers like he’s gagging for it.

“Oh,” Alex pants, frantically, rocking his body against Miles’s, “yeah, yes- like that, fuck, Miles – oh god…”

Miles leans back again, needing to see Alex while he’s like this and unwilling to miss a single second. Alex looks absolutely wrecked, spread open and bared completely aside from his t-shirt which is rucked up under his armpits, his torso flushed and blotchy and his eyes screwed tightly shut. He might even be drooling a little. He’s a complete mess, and he’s without a doubt the single sexiest thing Miles has ever seen in his life. 

“Fuckin' gorgeous,” Miles mutters again, more to himself than anything else. Resuming his earlier position between Alex’s knees, he lies down on his stomach again, which offers the added bonus of allowing him to rut against the mattress. He groans at the blessed friction, getting momentarily distracted by it until a pleading whine pulls his attention back to Alex. “Yeah, I got you,” he says, glancing up at Alex apologetically, “I got you, Al, ‘m sorry.” When an idea pops into his head, – or more of an urge, really – he decides to follow it. “Let go of your legs for me, love," he says, tapping the back of Alex’s right thigh with his free hand. “C’mon then, put ‘em down.” 

Alex lifts his head disorientedly, taking a moment to process the order before doing what he’s told, releasing his legs and lowering them back down to the bed. They’re trembling slightly, and Miles feels a little bad, but he thinks that what he’s about to do next might just make up for it. With a quick inhale to steel himself, Miles reaches for Alex’s cock, wrapping his fingers around the base before closing his lips around the tip and sinking down. 

The effect is immediate. Alex shouts hoarsely, his hips jerking and both his hands landing on Miles’s head, grabbing his hair and holding on almost painfully tightly. “Miles,” Alex moans, “Miles, oh, Miles.”

The sound of his name in that fucked-out voice, falling from Alex’s lips like a prayer, makes Miles feel a hundred feet tall, and he applies himself to his task with even more determination, sinking down on Alex’s cock until he hits his own hand where it’s wrapped around his shaft. He sucks, covering his teeth with his lips like he remembers telling one of his ex-girlfriends to do, pushing back the foreskin before swirling his tongue around the exposed head of Alex’s cock. In a feat of coordination he has years of guitar training to thank for, he then starts working the fingers of his other hand again at the same time. The way Alex starts sobbing and pulling on Miles’s hair hard enough to hurt lets Miles know when he’s hitting the spot, and it must be less than a minute of this, of Miles fingering Alex while sucking him off to the best of his probably limited ability, before Alex goes abruptly still.

“Oh,” he gasps, shuddering, “oh, ungh, I’m – Miles.”   

That’s all the warning Miles gets before, with a broken moan, Alex starts to come, spurting hotly into Miles’s mouth. Miles moans at the feeling, at Alex’s taste flooding his senses, doing his best to swallow as much of it as he can without doing something embarrassing like choking to death on it.

Only when Alex starts weakly batting at him does Miles let up, letting Alex fall from his mouth and drawing a gasping breath. Quickly scrambling upright, he leans back over Alex and all but attacks his mouth, kissing him deeply and a little wildly, frantic with his own neglected arousal. Alex hums as he licks into his mouth, like he’s chasing his own taste, and that does absolutely nothing whatsoever to make Miles calm down. Miles moans, unconsciously starting to rut against Alex’s hip, until suddenly, Alex breaks the kiss and urgently says, “No, wait – on me. On me, Miles.”  

Miles stares at him, wide-eyed, for a second or two, before cursing loudly. He sits up hastily, taking himself in hand and starting to jerk off frantically, his whole body singing in relief. Realising he’s unwittingly closed his eyes, Miles blinks them open again, a shock of electricity shooting through him when he finds Alex staring up at him with dark, hungry eyes and his bottom lip caught between his teeth. When their eyes lock, it’s like everything in the world stops existing apart from the two of them. Miles’s mounting climax approaches faster with every stroke of his fist, and he’s already so close he can taste it, preparing himself to drop off the edge again. But then, Alex reaches out and takes Miles’s free hand, bringing it to his face before sucking two of his fingers into his mouth, all the while still holding Miles’s gaze, and Miles is done for.

“Alex,” he gasps, “baby, f-fuck,” and then he’s doubling over, spilling haphazardly across Alex’s inner thighs and groin as pleasure consumes every fibre of his being, burning every single thought from mind through its sheer intensity. Eventually, he collapses, gasping for breath as he recovers from his second orgasm of the afternoon.

“You’re okay,” he hears Alex murmur softly, once the ringing in his ears subsides a little. “Hey, you’re okay, Miles. Deep breaths for me now, come on.” 

It’s only then that Miles realises he’s wheezing, actually wheezing, out of breath from more than just the exertion. He pushes himself up on his elbows to give his chest some room and matches his breathing to Alex’s, in and out.

“Want me to get your inhaler?” Alex asks, concern etched between his eyebrows.

Miles shakes his head. “I can get it.” He draws another whistling breath. “I’m fine. Al, really. ‘S just on my desk.” He can’t help but lean in to press a quick kiss to Alex’s tempting, pouty mouth. “You’re cute when you worry, though.” 

Before Alex can respond to that, Miles gets up, grabbing a tissue from the box on his bedside table to give himself a quick wipe before locating his inhaler, popping off the cap and taking a few deep puffs. Once his breathing clears, he sighs happily, stretching his arms above his head as he turns around again. 

Alex is sitting up now, perched in the middle of the double bed, dabbing at himself with a wad of tissues in an attempt to clean himself up. 

“Oi, let me do that,” Miles protests, walking back to the bed with a few long strides and crawling back onto it. “Most of it’s mine, anyway.”

Alex wrinkles his nose, still ineffectually wiping at his stomach. “I’m a mess.”

“Nah, you’re lovely,” Miles says, reaching out to brush Alex’s dishevelled fringe out of his eyes. 

Slowly, Alex lifts his head, meeting Miles’s gaze almost shyly, even after everything that just happened between them. He swallows nervously. “Are you – I mean. D’you really think that?” 

“Would I say it if not?” Miles queries, raising an eyebrow. “Don’t think I’ve ever managed to successfully lie to you in me life. You know all me tells, don’t ya?” 

For a minute, Alex just looks at him, studying Miles’s face intently. Miles makes sure to keep his expression as open and honest as possible, hiding absolutely nothing of what he’s feeling. And then suddenly, Alex’s face does a thing, his features eclipsed by the force of a smile that makes his eyes crinkle in the corners and his cheeks turn a charming shade of pink. “Oh,” he says softly, lowering his gaze.

“Yeah,” Miles confirms, smiling at him so widely he thinks his face is in danger of splitting in two. “I think you’re bloody gorgeous and I really wanna kiss you again, Al. If that’s alright with ya.”

Alex looks up at him through his lashes with a crooked smile of his own. “Yeah. I reckon that’d be alright.” 

Not wanting to waste a minute, Miles eagerly leans in to claim his kiss, when Alex suddenly snorts.

“What?” Miles blinks, one hand cupping the side of Alex’s face. “What’s funny?”

Alex shrugs, a smirk pulling at the corner of his mouth. “I were just… thinkin’ how we fucked our way through Heat, just now. I just know there’s gotta be a lyric in there somewhere, you know?”

Miles can’t help it; he cracks up. “You're unbelievable,” he grins, shaking with laughter. “Just made you come not once but twice, and you’re still thinkin’ about bloody lyrics.” Lifting his other hand to Alex’s face, too, he holds it tenderly between his hands. “What’s it going to take, eh? What’s a guy gotta do to make that big brain of yours shut off for longer than two minutes, Alex Turner?” 

“I dunno,” Alex replies, raising an eyebrow, “but don’t let me stop you from findin’ out.”