Asher was used to men like William: men who take what they want with reckless abandon, men who assert themselves, men who take charge. And he liked it, would even say that it was a turn on for him. But even when his inhibitions were lowered, his naked back on the mattress while William worked his way down between his legs, Asher’s mind was elsewhere. More specifically, it was on another blonde with shoulders just as broad and eyes just as blue, but he was almost certain had far gentler hands and a kinder smile. Not even William’s skilled hands or his talented mouth could distract him from the inexplicable guilt he felt. He lasted no longer than fifteen minutes in the man’s condo before he pardoned himself, after which his client began to throw a hissy fit that, quite frankly, did well in suppressing his erection. He told him to keep his money (but that he’d love it if he would call him again) before he left and hailed a cab for Downtown.
It took him no longer than twenty minutes before he was at Alec’s door shirt buttoned all wrong, his jacket hanging loosely from his hand, the other resting on the doorframe. “William? Oh, he’s not comin’. Got any more of that whiskey?” he said, only giving Alec a brief glance before his gaze was directed behind him, hoping to be let in. He knew exactly where he was, but he hadn’t quite fully realized that he actually left a client, lost some potentially good money, and brought himself here. But when the motion was made for him to come inside, he didn’t hesitate in moving past Alec and into the living room, though had to drag his feet through it. The Vicodin was wearing off, but he still felt as if his limbs were attached to the floor with strings. “Is it just me or… did this place get bigger?” he said, turning around so he could face Alec, offering a soft, somehow empathetic smile before walking over to the couch in the center of the room. He plopped down unceremoniously, splayed his legs open, his arms at his side, his head hung back and tilted towards the ceiling. A low groan left his lips as he closed his eyes.
“Alec Clarke, you damn bastard.” The words were not uttered with hostility, rather with a mild, feigned annoyance. Though Alec hadn’t done anything per se, he was the reason that his wallet was missing a hundred dollars he expected to have by the end of the night. Lifting his head, he searched for Alec in the room, grinning when he found him. “So, whatcha got planned for us, huh?”
Asher always looked good; that was perhaps the most unfortunate thing about him in Alec’s eyes. It wasn’t really fair, but he wasn’t really complaining, either. This time, Asher looked...frazzled. His shirt was mildly askew, and Alec could really only think of what that meant. Closing the door behind Asher, Alec turned and leaned his back against it for a moment. He watched the other man, taking a second to focus on the fact that he was really here, and having to rethink his gameplan. What had been the plan?
Tigger hissed the closer Asher got, jumping off the couch once Asher plopped down on it, successfully ruining his nap. Alec picked up the bottle of whiskey from the counter, huffing out a yeah when Asher mentioned the emptiness of the apartment. “I’ve been lookin’ to move in somewhere else. Don’t really need three bedrooms when it’s just me.” Handing the whiskey over, Alec slowly sat down beside Asher, “Well – I’m not really sure I got that far. You uh...you said no, if I remember it correctly.” He was clearly teasing, leaning back into the couch now to look at Asher. Rubbing his hands on his knees mainly out of nerves, he searched for the right words that would get him the answer he was searching for, “Eventful evening?”
