Model Behaviour - 3. Chapter 3

Did I just put out on the first date? Fuck.

It was the question that bounced around Harry’s skull all the way home from the photo shoot.

No longer in Alex’s intoxicating presence, he felt the familiar poison of self-doubt coursing through his veins, convincing him that Alex had got what he wanted and that he’d now cast him aside as a one-afternoon-stand.

“Harry? Did you hear what I said?”

“Huh?”

Harry looked over at his mother, watching him out of the corner of her eye as she drove.

“I said, how did your photo shoot go?”

“Good.”

“Did something happen? Are you upset?”

“No, I’m fine.”

Harry was a better model than he was a liar. Jill let the matter drop, though.

He went back to suffering in silence, twisting the day’s events into intricate knots. They continued the drive home, with Harry disappearing further and further into himself. He should have been basking in the afterglow, reliving an encounter lifted straight out of his greatest fantasies, but he was instead stuck asking himself the same question over and over.

Would Alex still like him if he’d said ‘no’?

* * * * *

The moment Harry got home, he made a mad dash for his bedroom. He stripped off his Speedo, retrieved a bunch of clean t-shirts off his bedroom floor, then made a beeline for the laundry.

“What are you doing?”

“What does it look like?”

“I did your washing yesterday.”

“I know, but I found these dirty shirts in the wardrobe.”

Harry bundled all the shirts into the washer, hoping the Speedos wouldn’t stick out.

“Do you even know how to use the washing machine?”

“Yes!”

He tossed in some powder and hit some random buttons.

“Wait, give it here.”

Jill pushed him aside and pressed the right button combination. Once Harry was convinced that she wouldn’t look inside the tub, he hurried back to his bedroom.

He remained on high alert for the next hour, waiting for the washing cycle to finish. Once it did, he hurried back to the laundry and loaded the wet clothes into the dryer.

“What’s gotten into you?” Jill looked up from her dinner preparation, not understanding her son’s sudden enthusiasm for chores.

They ate dinner in further silence, with Harry still entirely within his own head. Harry then finished up his homework, grabbed a long-overdue shower, and finally fired up Netflix. He was still searching for something to occupy his mind when his phone started vibrating.

CALLER ID: Alex.

He hesitated briefly, then hit Accept.

“Hey.”

“You were supposed to call me, Harrison.” Alex put on his sternest, most serious voice. “Why didn’t you call me?”

The silence lingered in the air, before Alex dissolved into a fit of giggles.

“Sorry, that was terrible.”

“It was.” Harry shook his head, but couldn’t help smiling.

“What happened? You said you’d call me.”

“I got distracted.”

“By what?”

“Just… school work.”

Harry put down the remote and focused his full attention on the phone screen. Alex looked every bit as gorgeous as he had earlier, even wearing just loose shorts and an old swimming club t-shirt.

“Listen, about earlier…”

“Wait.” Alex stood up and pushed his bedroom door closed. “Let me go first.”

“Okay.”

“I need to apologize for earlier. I took advantage.” Alex was either telling the truth or he was the world’s best actor. “I took it too far without asking first. I’m sorry.”

Harry leaned back against his headboard, stunned into silence.

“You don’t feel weird about it, do you?”

“No.” Harry’s acting skills weren’t nearly as good as Alex’s. “Well, maybe. I guess. Kinda.”

“It’s okay to feel weird.”

Harry kept staring into his phone. Alex really did seem to be sincere.

“I just don’t want you to think I’m some cheap hook-up.”

“You’re not.” Alex briefly stumbled, unsure of his next words. “I just… couldn’t help myself, I guess. You looked *so fucking hot* in that Speedo and I just went for it. I’m sorry.”

Harry sank into his pillows, relaxing fully. Tension he’d been carrying since the car ride home was dissipating rapidly.

“It’s okay. I guess it was pretty hot.”

“Jesus Christ, Harry. It was fucking *scorching*.”

They both giggled, and Harry watched as Alex rearranged his crotch in his loose shorts.

“So anyway, now that’s out of the way, what’s going on at your house?”

“Not much. Just sitting here trawling through Netflix.”

“What are you watching?”

“Dunno yet. Maybe Brooklyn Nine-Nine.”

“Nice!”

They talked about their favourite characters and favourite episodes, then launched into debate about just how much Terry Jeffords loves yoghurt.

“We should watch some Nine-Nine at my place some time.”

Harry froze.

Did Alex Wyatt just invite him to his house?

“What are you doing next weekend?”

Holy shit.

“I, uh, don’t think I have anything on.”

"Cool. I have a beach shoot with Chris on Saturday. Maybe you can tag along to that, then hang out at my place afterwards?”

Harry still couldn’t quite believe what he was hearing. He opened and closed his mouth twice before finally formulating a response.

“Yeah, uh, sounds good.”

Alex then looked at his alarm clock and stifled a yawn.

“Anyway, I should probably go. Six a.m. training tomorrow.” Alex hesitated a moment, then looked off screen again. “I really am sorry about earlier.”

“Don’t worry about it.”

Alex offered Harry a muted smile, though it was no less sincere.

“I still feel bad about it.”

“Don’t.”

They held eye contact down the barrel of their phone cameras.

“Okay. I should probably get going then.”

“You should. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight.”

Harry disconnected the call and let out a deep breath. Then everything hit him all at once.

Holy shit.

Alex Wyatt invited me to his house.

He stared at his phone screen for a long time, as if making sure the conversation had really happened.

What if he wants to kiss me again?

He then laid back and stared at the ceiling, pondering that question. Regardless of if it was right or wrong, their changing room encounter really had been ‘scorching’ hot. So hot that the mere thought of it encouraged Harry’s hand to sneak its way beneath his waistband and take a firm grip…

Saturday really couldn’t come soon enough.

* * * * *

“You didn’t tell me you lived in a mansion.”

Harry followed Alex up his long driveway, taking in the landscaped gardens and wide expanses of his home.

“Yeah, it’s pretty big, I guess.”

They’d just spent the afternoon at the local beach, working on another shoot with Christopher. Harry had hovered behind the camera, watching as Alex showed off new trunks for an up-and-coming swimwear brand. The quid-pro-quo arrangement generated traffic for both brand and model.

“Holy shit. This house is amazing.”

Alex opened the front door to unveil the most beautiful interior Harry had ever stepped foot in. Alex was used to such reactions.

“My parents do pretty well for themselves, I guess.”

"You guess?!" Harry still couldn't quite believe where he was standing. “Are you gonna give me a full tour?”

“Maybe later.”

They kicked their shoes off and made their way to Alex’s bedroom, which was almost as big as Harry’s entire house.

“This is insane.” Alex shrugged again, before dumping his backpack on his bed. “I mean, I’ve seen bits and pieces on Insta before, but I didn’t realize this was your actual fucking house.”

“Well now you know.”

Harry walked a lap around the room, checking out Alex’s stuff. He had his own en suite, and an entertainment setup worthy of most lounge rooms. What interested Harry most though was the bed. A California King, with no spare bed in sight.

“Where are your parents?”

“Away. Dad’s on a flight to Dubai, and I think Mum’s at some charity dinner.”

Holy shit, we’re home alone.

“Anyway, I’m hungry. You wanna order take-out?”

“Sure.”

They searched through a bunch of Uber Eats options, before settling upon pizza. Alex had one cheat meal a week and he was making the most of it.

“So what’s with the camera setup?” Harry asked, walking over to the tripod and lighting setup in the corner. “I didn’t think you did YouTube?”

“I don’t.” Alex looked away, self-conscious. “It’s for auditions. TV commercials and stuff.”

“You do commercials, as well?”

“Not yet.”

Alex’s embarrassment intensified. He didn’t like failing at things.

However, Harry’s smile picked him right back up. It felt unusual for both boys to be on the other end of reassuring.

“Anyway, did you want that house tour now?”

“Sure.”

They did the full house tour, including the basement gym and sauna. Harry took particular interest in the outdoor hot tub.

“I’m surprised you guys don’t have a pool.”

“Not enough room, apparently.” Alex sighed dramatically, still annoyed his parents hadn’t put one in the front yard instead. “You can’t have it all, I guess.”

“No, you can’t.”

The house tour ended just as the pizza delivery arrived. They took the pizzas back to Alex’s bedroom and lay on the bed, stuffing their faces while they watched Brooklyn Nine-Nine.

“Who’s your favourite, Hitchcock or Scully?” Alex asked, around a mouthful of mozzarella.

“Scully, definitely.”

“Me too.”

They watched as Scully almost swallowed a coffee mug full of thumbtacks.

“Oh no!” Harry rolled onto his side, not even trying to contain his laughter. Alex was laughing too, though he was more amused by Harry’s reaction.

“You really do love this show, don’t you?”

“I do. It’s the best.”

They continued watching episodes, one after the other, until the pizza was long gone.

As the evening continued, Alex found his eye wandering more and more, enjoying the way Harry’s t-shirt kept riding up his back. He was making a concerted effort to treat Harry as a person, not just some object for his own gratification, but it was hard to stay focused with Harry’s underwear on full display.

“We should probably go to bed soon,” Alex said, yawning after their eighth episode was completed.

A flash of apprehension crossed Harry’s face.

“You can have one of the spare rooms if you want,” Alex offered, determined to move at Harry’s pace this time. “I’m sure my mum won’t care.”

Harry considered his options, looking between Alex and the bedroom door.

“What time will your mum be home?”

“Christ knows.” Alex was too tired to hide his displeasure. “She usually goes out drinking after these events, so I don’t bother waiting up.”

Harry nodded, but remained silent. There was nothing he could really say.

He looked to the bedroom door again, then back to Alex. Alex looked more hopeful than expectant.

It was the look that sealed Harry’s decision.

“I think I’ll sleep in here.”

“Cool.”

Before he could do that though, he needed to wash the pepperoni taste from his mouth and the sand from between his toes.

“Do you mind if I use your shower? I usually take one before bed.”

“Sure.”

Harry grabbed his toiletries and lingered for a moment, hoping that Alex would pick up on the invitation. He remained unmoved on the bed, though.

“Okay, I’ll grab that shower now.”

Harry walked to the adjacent en suite and grabbed a towel from the rack. He then slowly undressed, listening carefully for any movement. None was forthcoming, though.

Eventually he climbed into the shower with a disappointed frown.

“Harry?”

The disappointment didn’t last long.

Harry looked out from beneath the spray and saw an uncertain-looking Alex. He was still fully-clothed, a condition that Harry refused to accept for a moment longer.

“Is it okay if I join you?”

“Get in here.”

Harry yanked the shower door open and crushed Alex’s lips in a passionate kiss. He then reached for the older boy’s collar and yanked his polo shirt over his head, while Alex worked frantically on the buttons of his jeans.

No more words were really necessary after that.