“How long has it been since someone else made you cum?” Alex asked, his head tilted to the side, cutting Henry off when he began to open his mouth, “That doesn’t include you having to touch yourself or having… Mechanical help.” Henry winced at that, the vivid memory of Alex sheepishly knocking on his door and relaying that he could, in fact, hear the loud, incessant buzzing of Henry's vibrator from his room across the hall flashing through his head, “I don't know. Maybe like… Fuck, maybe never?” Alex’s eyes widened for a second, his mouth opening and closing like he couldn't find the words, “Are you kidding?” OR Henry is trans and has quite literally never had a good lay in his life... Alex is completely and utterly in love with him and certainly eager to help.

Henry had a secret. It wasn't some world-ending secret that would get him shunned from society or abandoned by all his friends, but it was a secret nonetheless. Erotica. It was his guilty pleasure. His hobby. Books full of lewd words and mouth-watering phrases that made his hand press down against the front of his slacks and brought his bottom lip between his teeth. It was his porn, his thing. He liked the imagination, liked the way the words twisted on the page and that it didn't need to be realistic because you didn't need to watch it happen. He let his mind conjure up the images as his eyes scanned the text. OR Alex finds Henry's erotica...