Bummers, Bewilderment, Bitter Advice

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Harry has always been a very present lover; easily aroused, heavy on the praise and encouragement, unrelenting eye contact and a hurricane of curiosity. He loves to know what makes individuals tick, where their sensitivities lie, always seeking permission before advancing and asking lots of leading questions. He feeds off of other people - a bit of a chameleon in the sheets but mostly he likes to have fun and make his partners shudder with orgasm as his name leaks from their mouths.

He's at a loss as to what has shifted his typical sexual drive so gravely. He understands that it is somewhat or possibly completely related to you, but his total lack of provocation is concerning. He hasn't felt the need to seek out anyone and he hasn't endured the least bit of attraction for another person since you've become a regular fixture in his life.

What shocks him is that it's not purposeful; every other time he's been in a relationship he's had to convince himself that he was content with exclusive love. Although the two of you are far from being a romantic pairing, he's understanding the drive behind exclusivity and finally coming to terms with how it could easily work for him.

He's been so wound up with you that it hasn't seemed possible for his heart to beat for anyone else. He isn't even sure what that fully means because he hasn't allowed himself a moment to sit and reflect. An identity upheaval seems daunting and terrifying, it makes his hands clammy with fear and distress whenever it so much as threatens to poke at his mind. That probably sounds a bit dramatic, but it's his truth.

He thinks about you when he wakes up in the morning and as he falls asleep, he's reminded of you when he does crossword puzzles or when he finds spatters of paint on the floor in his studio from your play fight. He thinks of you whenever he digs into his pocket for a toothpick or when his thumb drags over the band of your moonstone ring. He hears you singing when your Madonna tape plays in his car or sees your smile when his eyes fall on a Kit Kat bar in the grocery store.

He wishes he could see you every single day and spend every waking moment of his free time in your presence but that doesn't make him any less scared to truly kiss you. He's finally starting to understand that is what his heart wants, but he's inexperienced in the pursuit of women and the thought of your naked body in his bed makes him sick with anxiety. He recognizes that his approach is immature and timid, but you make him feel like a child since he's never learned how to be with a woman and now he's concerned about the possibility of some self destruction on his part.

He wants you, he wants every bit of you, but he might as well be a prepubescent boy when it comes to skill. The only sense of romance he actually feels comfortable seeking with you is adolescent flirtation, teasing, joking and playing and he's wondering if and when that will change. He keeps telling himself that you're his Ace and no one in the world makes him feel more relaxed than his Ace, but his heart drops into his intestines when he remembers how intense your simple spontaneous kiss was.

Harry's head is tipped back and lips parted slightly to allow soft pants to escape, his chest heaves with stirred breath and sweat is beginning to prick at his forehead and his neck. He unbuttons his shirt and pulls it off of his shoulders as a strong electric current roars up his spine. He groans and spreads his legs a bit to allow for more sturdy footing, his toes curling in his shoes and his eyebrows pinched together as he tries to catch his breath with the ardent burn in his belly.

His chin falls to glance down at the person on their knees in front of him, his medium length ash blonde shag falling into his eyes as he looks up and connects with Harry before taking him all the way to the back of his throat and gagging when his head presses against his uvula.

Harry moans and grips the kitchen counter tightly with one sweaty palm, his other hand resting on the back of his head to hold his mouth in place. He gags again and Harry moans a high-pitched whine before letting him loose, his fist reaching up to wrap around Harry's base and pumping to bring him closer to release as he takes a second to recover from the series of retching.

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