Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you.
Model Behaviour - 11. Chapter 11
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Sunday night was a very good night in the Delaney household.
It started the moment Harry disconnected his video call, when he received a link to Alex’s cloud drive. He immediately opened the link and found a folder labeled ‘Alex Fashion’, which contained every catalog image Alex had ever posed for. Despite Alex’s unquestionable beauty, and the presence of a few shirtless board-shorted images, it was mostly stuff Harry had seen before. Nothing that really set his heart racing.
So he hit the back arrow and opened the next folder. This one was labeled ‘Alex Private’.
Holy shit.
This time Harry hit the jackpot.
Am I dreaming? This is incredible.
Harry feasted his eyes on dozens of Speedo-clad images of Alex, none of which had ever been posted on social media. Most were taken in Christopher’s studio, modeling various colours and patterns of swimwear, along with athletic shorts that left little to the imagination. Harry scrolled through dozens of images of pink, red, and green swimsuits, before landing on a black and white striped pair that took his breath away.
How did I never know about these?
Harry began tracing his fingers over the laptop screen, imagining he was caressing the folds in the Lycra fabric. He then double-clicked to zoom in, admiring the exquisite detail as the swimsuit struggled to contain Alex’s generous proportions.
Come on, control yourself.
Harry reluctantly let go of his growing erection and double-clicked to zoom out. However, he was soon set off again by just one more glance at Alex’s perfect chest and abs.
Nope, this isn’t working.
Conceding the battle, he glanced at his bedroom door and checked that it was still locked, before hastily standing up and pulling him t-shirt over his head. His jeans were dispensed with almost as quickly, leaving him clad in just his socks and boxer-briefs.
That’s better.
He sat back down and made himself comfortable against the pillows, before spending more time intimately familiarizing himself with the image. Finally, he saw all there was to see and clicked the back arrow, moving onto a folder labeled ‘Test Images’.
It was absolutely worth the wait.
Oh. My. God.
Harry’s jaw fell slack as he scanned the treasure trove of Speedo-clad images, all of which were taken on Christopher’s pool deck. Alex was wearing the same powder blue Speedo that he’d worn on the day they first met, and if Harry had to guess, these images were probably even taken on that exact day.
Harry’s fingers began to trace the laptop screen again, caressing the fold in the fabric where Alex’s penis stretched towards his left hip. His left hand began to trace a similar path on his own body, caressing the straining hardness that stretched the front of his boxer briefs.
Eventually he moved to free his hard cock, as he locked eyes with the digital image of his boyfriend. He loved the way Alex’s eyes sparkled, and the hint of a smirk that showed he knew just how fucking sexy he looked.
I wonder if there’s more photo shoots like this?
The thought of arrowing back and continuing his search briefly entered Harry’s mind, but something about that little smirk drew him back in. He remembered how those lips felt, plundering his own just metres from that very pool deck. He remembered the feeling of skin on skin, as Alex pinned him and gave him the friction they both so desperately sought.
Fuck.
Harry was now trying to recreate that friction, as he squeezed and stroked his erection without lubricant. He thought about opening his bedside drawer, about taking out the lubricant that his mother had supplied, but time was now in very short supply.
Oh Alex.
He was rocketing toward a climax and not even a nuclear bomb could stop him.
Oh Alex…
Harry’s hand was now a mere blur, piloted by memories of Alex’s hard cock against his own. The burning shaft that completely overwhelmed his own every time they connected, yet somehow still loved his smaller proportions as its equal.
Oh Alex…
Harry was now right on the edge, lubrication long forgotten as pre-cum flowed freely. His senses were now overwhelmed, remembering the hint of morning toothpaste on Alex’s breath, the feeling of his fingers threading through still-damp hair, the sound of barely-restrained cries as they moved in a timeless rhythm…
Oh Alex…
Oh Alex…
He was totally consumed, lost in a place where everyday worries no longer mattered. All he could think of was Alex’s taste, Alex’s smell, the feel of Alex’s heavy arousal overpowering his own…
Almost there!
…and that sexy little smirk on the computer screen.
I LOVE YOU!!
It was the final conscious thought that entered Harry’s mind, as his eyes rolled back in his head and his body began to seize. He was incapable of speech, of any critical thought, of anything other than fulfilling his carnal desire as he shot streaks of pearly white cum all the way up to his neck.
…
…
Holy fuck.
Harry slowly floated back down to earth, as fluid began to cool on his chest and abs. He had no idea how long he lay there, basking in the afterglow of an unforgettable orgasm, but eventually his breathing evened out and his heart rate began to slow.
Damn, now I want a cigarette.
He eventually regained his bearings, and looked down at the godforsaken mess. He’d never seen so much cum in one place, not even before the tongue bath he’d received during his first and only night in Alex’s bed.
God, what a night.
He thought briefly of the connection they’d shared that night, but it soon became a double-edged sword. Reality began to set in as he realized he had no idea when he’d get to kiss or touch or share another night of intense lovemaking with his boyfriend.
In the meantime, all he could do was satisfy himself with that sexy smirk on the computer screen.
And hope to God that was enough.
* * * * *
“Good morning.”
“Hey.”
Alex was staring at his phone when George entered the kitchen the next morning. He’d just received a ‘good morning’ text from Harry.
“What are you smiling at?”
“Nothing.”
George merely shook his head, as he made a beeline for the coffee machine. He looked like he could use about three cups.
“What are you doing up so early?”
“I had swimming training.”
“Oh, of course.”
George looked embarrassed to have forgotten. “How did it go?”
“Good.”
Alex’s phone buzzed again. He looked down and began typing a reply.
“When’s your next meet?”
“Friday week.”
“Okay.” Alex kept his eyes down, still typing. “Maybe I’ll come along.”
“Huh?”
Alex’s head snapped up. His attempt to contain his surprise wasn’t successful.
“What? It’ll be nice to see you compete.”
“Do you even know where the pool is?”
“Ha ha, very funny.”
Alex was only half-joking.
“Seriously though, it’s been ages since I’ve seen you in the pool.”
“I know.”
This time Alex was deadly serious. They stood in silence for a moment.
“If you don’t want me to come, I won’t.”
“No, you’re more than welcome.” Alex hoped his father couldn’t read his uncertainty. “I just… wasn’t expecting it.”
Alex put his phone back in his pocket and he loaded his dirty glass into the dishwasher.
“Anyway, I should probably get ready for school.”
“You should.”
Alex stuffed the rest of his banana in his mouth and exited, leaving George to stare at the too-slow coffee machine in silence.
* * * * *
“Hey, fag.”
Alex was hurrying through the school courtyard later that morning when he ran into a brick wall.
A brick wall named Shaun Morrison.
“Fuck off, Shaun.”
“Excuse me?” Alex tried to step around the burly footballer but his path was blocked. “Is that any way to speak to your group buddy?”
“Fuck. Off.”
“Did you finish that assignment?”
“No.”
Shaun grabbed a fistful of Alex’s blazer.
“Stop fucking me around, Wyatt.”
“Get your hands off me!”
Alex tried to shove the heavier boy off, but mostly just pushed himself backwards.
“Where is it? It’d better have my name on it.”
“It’s in my backpack.”
“Get it out.”
“No.”
Shaun advanced again.
“It’s on a USB, dickhead.”
“Prove it.”
“How?”
Shaun stopped dead, trying to think of an answer. He was too stupid to come up with one.
He instead shoved Alex into a bank of lockers.
“Motherfucker!”
“You got something to say, pretty boy?” Shaun was now hovering over Alex, using his five-inch height advantage to full effect. “Go on.”
“Fuck off.”
Shaun took another step forward, but this time Alex ducked out of the way.
“You think you’re hot shit, don’t you? Running your little fan page with all your little fan girls.” Shaun regarded Alex with disgust. “How do you think they’d like you with a broken nose?”
“Probably still better than they like you.”
Shaun made a growling noise and made another lunge, but any further exchanges were interrupted by the final school bell. The few remaining students in the courtyard began to hurry inside.
“If you even think about telling Mr. Armitage, I will fucking end you. Got it?”
“Whatever.”
“See you in class, bitch.”
Shaun turned and walked away, leaving Alex to straighten his blazer and tie. Alex scanned his surrounds looking for witnesses, but even if any classmates had seen what happened, he doubted they’d want to testify against the six-foot-five football captain.
He now had to decide whether he’d fight this battle alone.
* * * * *
“Who are you texting?”
Chelsea and Bridget approached their lunch table and found Harry engrossed in his phone. They couldn’t see his screen, but whatever was on it was making Harry smile.
“Is it your secret lover?”
“Huh?” Harry looked up, momentarily panicked.
He smashed the ‘lock’ button and stuffed his phone out of sight. The girls promptly took a seat on either side of him.
“Tell us who it was.”
“Yeah, who’s got you all smiley?”
They pressed in closer, making Harry feel claustrophobic. He looked left and right, considering an escape route, but decided that would just create more questions.
“It was nobody.”
“We know you’re lying, Harry.”
“Yeah, you’re a terrible liar.”
They waited for Harry to try again.
“Come on, tell us.”
“There’s nothing to tell.”
“Who was it?”
“Nobody. Just… a friend.”
“You have other friends now?”
“Are you cheating on us?”
Harry shook his head and looked down. He was still uncomfortable with the attention.
The girls eventually gave up and took out their lunches. Celery sticks for Chelsea, an apple for Bridget.
“How was your weekend, anyway?”
“Good.”
“Did you watch Tiger King like we told you to?”
“No, I was busy.”
“Doing what?”
The girls were expectant again, instinctively knowing it was linked to Harry’s text messages.
“Well?”
“Are you gonna tell us or not?”
“There’s nothing to tell.”
“What were you doing, then?”
“Just… schoolwork.”
Harry began to stand up, but Bridget pulled him down.
“Don’t go.”
Harry reluctantly sat down again, while both girls shared a look of concern behind his back.
“You know we’re just teasing you, Harry.”
“We love you.”
Bridget nodded to Chelsea, then swiftly changed the subject.
“Did you guys see Riverdale last night?”
“No.”
“No.”
“Well…”
* * * * *
“Excuse me, sir.”
Mr. Armitage watched Alex walk toward the front of the classroom, USB stick in hand. All of Alex’s classmates had already filed out, leaving a small stack of hard-copy assignments on the teacher’s desk.
“What can I do for you, Mr. Wyatt?”
“Do you have a minute to talk?”
“Sure. What do you need?”
“Uh, I was wanting to talk to you about our last group assignment.”
At that moment, Alex saw movement in his peripheral vision. Shaun Morrison was hovering menacingly outside the doorway.
“You mean the one that’s due today?”
“Yes.”
“Did you need an extension?”
“No.”
Alex looked at the doorway again. Shaun was still hovering.
“What did you need, then?”
This time the teacher’s eyes followed as Alex looked toward the doorway. However, Mr. Armitage couldn’t see Shaun from his seated position.
“Alex?”
“Sorry.” Alex made his decision. “I was just wondering if I could email mine and Shaun’s group assignment to you.”
“Sure.” Mr. Armitage looked to the doorway again, but couldn’t see anything amiss. “Just make sure it’s in my inbox by the end of the day.”
“Yes, sir.”
Alex waited around, almost hoping the teacher would ask more question.
“Is that all, Mr. Wyatt?”
“Uh… yes, sir.”
Alex hesitated briefly, then turned and exited the classrom.
When he arrived in the hallway, Shaun Morrison was nowhere to be found.
* * * * *
“Harry, wait up.”
Harry was walking down the hallway to his final period History class when Bridget called out. She caught up to him, then dragged him by the wrist into an empty alcove.
“What are you doing?”
Bridget ignored Harry’s question, looking around to make sure they were alone.
“We’re gonna be late for class!”
“No we’re not.”
Finally satisfied that they were alone, Bridget turned back to Harry.
“Tell me what’s going on.”
“How do you mean?” Harry knew exactly what she meant.
“You spent all of last week moping around, then you ran away from the lunch table on Friday. Now you’re getting all giggly over secret text messages—”
“It’s not what you think—”
“I don’t even know what to think right now.”
Bridget held eye contact with Harry, who predictably looked away first. Finally, she just decided to rip the band aid off.
“Are you dating someone?”
Harry went wide-eyed and immediately looked up. How much had Bridget figured out?
“You don’t have to answer if you don’t want.”
Harry’s silence was all the answer Bridget needed. They held eye contact, as Harry struggled with whether to tell her the truth.
The silence was eventually broken by the school bell.
“We should get to class.”
Harry offered a small nod, then turned to walk away. Bridget reached out and grabbed his wrist again.
“Harry?” She waited for Harry to make eye contact. “You know you can tell me about anything, right?”
“I know.”
“Just… remember that, okay?”
Harry nodded again.
Finally, Bridget let go of Harry’s wrist followed back into the hallway.
They walked side-by-side the rest of the way to class.
It looks like Harry's found himself an ally and Alex has found himself a nemesis. Who can they both trust moving forward?
Stay tuned for more!
- 16
- 4
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you.
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