21st_sacrament | alex/henry + authority figures

If you could put listens well down on a resume Alex Shepherd would never be turned away from a job.

Growing up in a military household, it's a polished skill that sticks, and follows him into every corner of his life. He doesn't know how to turn a deaf ear, not when he was told to keep his head out of the clouds and feet hammered to the ground.

Speak when spoken to and do as you're told, there are no pats on the back for doing what you're supposed to.

Maybe that's the heart of what's fucked him up so badly, the way Henry's smile, touch, and attention feel like a reward. A reward for remembering what he says and what he likes.

It becomes more than that and it makes him squirm, makes him lavish attention to all the places that make Henry arch and groan, his name leaving his lips in a husky tone Alex never hears anywhere else. And when Henry stops asking and starts telling it's like his mind goes into overdrive, hellbent on pleasing him until he sees stars and Henry can't stop clenching around him so sweetly, making him tremble all throughout his body when he says slower slower.

He rocks in deep and slow, pressed flush against his hips, Henry's knees framing his own and oh like that like that i and he keeps the pace, pleasure building at the base of his spine, ready to burst. It feels good, their skin is soaked with sweat, it feels so good and after he rolls his hips Henry's hand finds one of his in a near panic, gripping, squeezing.

Alex shouts when he comes.