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“You ever kissed someone, Will?”
Will stops. He’d been taking a sip of his tea, out of a thermos he brought to work. “What?”
“I know you heard me.” Henry said, looking over at him.
“I haven’t.” He complies, knowing he can’t evade Henry’s questions forever.
“By choice?”
“…No..” He admits, a little sheepishly. “Why?”
“Just wanted to know if you’d be up for some… practice.” Henry says, the pause in his words making Will’s heart race.
Is he asking what I think he’s asking? “I believe I would.” He says, not daring to let the opportunity slip away.
“Come over here then.” Henry pats the chair next to him. They’d been sitting across from each other, working on a better design for one of their bots.
And he does. He gets comfortable in the chair next to Henry and tries not to show how nervous he is.
“So, let’s see what you do know.” Henry says, putting a finger under his chin. He pulls him in that way, almost as if he’s dragging him, and suddenly their faces are centimeters from each other. “You’re breathing real hard.” He drags his thumb over Will’s lips.
“You know I’ve never done this before.” Will whispers.
“That’s going to change.” Henry says, and connects their lips. He reaches his hands up to caress the sides of his face, lenses of his glasses pressing into his closed eyes.
Will swears he dies and comes back to life. Why the hell hasn’t he, haven’t they, done this before?
He doesn’t know where to put his hands. He knows it’s awkward, but he just clasps them in his lap. The only thing he knows is that he doesn’t know. He doesn’t know if he’s doing a good job, he doesn’t know why his pants feel tighter, he doesn’t know why Henry’s so good at this and never shown him.
Henry pulls away to breathe, and he truly does need to after a full ten seconds, and Will subtly pulls his sweater hem over his crotch. That’s embarrassing.
“You need a bit of work, but it wasn’t bad for your first time.” Henry says, looking him in the eyes. “Was that alright with you?”
“It was amazing.”
“Glad to hear it.” Henry chuckles. “Your face is all red.”
“How isn’t yours?”
“I’ve done this a few times. You get a bit used to it.” Henry looks him up and down. “Relax your hands.”
He didn’t even realize he was gripping his sweater like a lifeline. His knuckles are white.
He does, flexing his fingers to stretch them and avoid a cramp.
“You don’t know where to put your hands, do you?”
“How many times do I have to tell you I haven’t ever done this before?” Will sighs. “Of course I don’t know where to put my hands.”
“Let me show you.” Henry says, holding them in his. “You can put them on your partner’s shoulders, if you’re not sure, or you can put them,” he guides Will’s hands to his waist, “here.”
Will keeps his hands rigid. His instinct is to stroke with his thumbs, just to feel Henry’s shirt (or so he swears) but he doesn’t know if that’s right.
“What do I do with them?”
“Whatever you want. If your partner is uncomfortable, they’ll tell you.”
So he does the stroking motion that had first come to mind, and Henry’s breath catches.
“That’s good.” He says, running his hands up Will’s arms. “Let’s try again, shall we?”
Will nods, and closes his eyes as Henry leans in. Their lips meet again, and this time Henry’s tongue darts into his mouth.
He makes a surprised noise in the back of his throat, but prays he’ll do it again.
And he does, this time tickling the roof of his mouth. Will knows he meant to.
And then he reaches down to Will’s waist, putting his hands in the same position as his, but gripping hard enough to hurt.
Will’s ashamed of the noise that escapes him at that moment. He moans right into Henry’s mouth.
Henry pulls off him for a second. “You alright?”
“I’m… whoa. Yeah. I’m good.” He struggles to find words. “I’m good.”
“You’re getting better. If this is even about practicing anymore.” Henry smirks at him and picks up where he left off, kissing him again.
William positively melts, letting the other man take control, too wrapped up in the feeling to care.