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English
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Part 10 of RWRB Ficlets
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Published:
2025-09-27
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989
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1/1
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it's all greek to me

Summary:

He presses a trail of kisses to Alex’s neck and says, “Ἔρος δηὖτέ μ' ὀ λυσιμέλης δόνει, γλυκύπικρον ἀμάχανον ὄρπετον. That one’s Sappho.”

“Ooh, is it a dirty one?” Alex teases, waggling his eyebrows suggestively.

Henry chuckles into the crook of Alex’s neck. “Not exactly.”

“You’re really not going to tell me what they mean?” Alex asks. He sounds a little annoyed, but Henry would rather die than translate them, actually.

Notes:

For an anon on tumblr, who asked for "distracting your lover from a task by kissing their neck." I also decided to combine that with this bsky post, which reads "We speak different languages so you will never know I have whispered confessions into the crook of your neck when we hug."

Translations for the text in other languages are given in the end notes. Thanks for Manu for helping me out with Alex's Spanish words.

PLEASE NOTE: There is no resolution in this ficlet!! And I am not intending to write any more!! They are in love but very dumb!! You have been warned!!

(See the end of the work for more notes.)

Work Text:

Henry’s idly reading over his class notes in Alex’s bed when he realises two things: one, Alex has been away for quite some time; and two, the air is becoming filled with the aroma of something cooking. Something delicious.

His stomach rumbles. He’s still naked and a little exhausted from their earlier round, and he hadn’t intended on remaining here much longer, but Alex had insisted that he stay long enough to have something to eat. Henry assumed he meant some kind of snack, or perhaps some takeout, but apparently that was mistaken.

Peeling himself out of bed, he fishes a pair of joggers off the ground and pulls them on, only realising when they rise up high over his ankles that they’re Alex’s. Ah, well. Alex won’t mind. He pads out to the kitchen and finds Alex humming as he stands over the stove wearing only a pair of boxers and an apron, his curls still wild from Henry’s hands. The image is so painfully domestic, as if Alex were his boyfriend and not just his regular booty call, that Henry’s heart feels as if it’s splitting in two.

This isn’t what they are, no matter how much Henry wishes it were otherwise. Alex had made it clear from the start that he wouldn’t have the time for a full relationship, that he had to focus on law school. And Henry’s reputation for casual hookups had proceeded him, so it seemed like the perfect arrangement. Until Henry’d gone and fallen in love.

It’s fine. He’s handling it. Mostly by greedily hoarding every little bit of Alex that he gets until Alex finally gets tired of him.

Now, he steps up behind Alex and plasters himself to Alex’s back, hooking his chin over Alex’s shoulder and peering down at the pot bubbling in front of him. There’s another pot nearby, and the oven is on, and is that a dough resting in that bowl?

What on earth?

“What are you up to in here?” Henry asks as he slips his hands onto Alex’s hips, letting his thumbs press against the bone jutting out above the waistband of his boxers. “Looks elaborate.”

Alex twists his neck to glance at him. “Oh, this? It’s nothing, really,” he says dismissively. “Just decided to whip something up for us for dinner.”

“You don’t have to do that.”

“I know. I want to,” Alex says, pressing a kiss to Henry’s temple. “What have you been doing?”

“A bit of studying. I’ve a test in Greek coming up,” Henry tells him.

“Only you would take an elective class on Ancient Greek just to read old poems,” Alex says with a huff of laughter.

Henry grins, nuzzling a little against Alex’s neck. “Considering the class is full, I don’t think that’s true.”

“So? Show me what you got, sweetheart.”

“Hmm. Δύστηνος ἔγκειμαι πόθῳ, ἄψυχος,” Henry murmurs, pressing the words into his skin, “χαλεπῇσι θεῶν ὀδύνῃσιν ἕκητι πεπαρμένος δι᾿ ὀστέων. That’s Archilochus.”

Alex actually shivers a little, pressing more firmly back against Henry’s front. “Fuck. That’s so sexy, baby. Translate it?”

Henry should have predicted that would happen. “Oh, it’s not so impressive in English,” he demurs, and hopes it’s enough. He presses a trail of kisses to Alex’s neck and says, “Ἔρος δηὖτέ μ' ὀ λυσιμέλης δόνει, γλυκύπικρον ἀμάχανον ὄρπετον. That one’s Sappho.”

“Ooh, is it a dirty one?” Alex teases, waggling his eyebrows suggestively.

Henry chuckles into the crook of Alex’s neck. “Not exactly.”

“You’re really not going to tell me what they mean?” Alex asks. He sounds a little annoyed, but Henry would rather die than translate them, actually.

Better to distract him.

“It’s not important,” Henry says, as he starts moving his hands across Alex’s body. Slides one hand underneath the apron, over the hard planes of Alex’s abdomen and up to his chest, brushing teasingly against a nipple. His other hand, he shifts down until he’s cupping Alex’s cock through his boxers, which is definitely showing some interest.

“Fuck, H. I’m trying to cook dinner, here,” Alex groans, though he doesn’t shove Henry off.

“I don’t mind eating late. Maybe I’ll have a snack,” Henry murmurs, then bites down on the the side of Alex’s neck as he gives Alex’s cock a little squeeze.

Alex sucks in a sharp breath that he lets out on a moan. “You’re insane, you know that? Fucking insatiable. You like this with all your boys?”

The words are like ice water in Henry’s veins. “No. Not exactly,” he says. They haven’t said they’re exclusive, but Henry hasn’t slept with anyone else since they started this. He doesn’t have any other boys. Not anymore. Only you. It’s only ever you.

Fortunately, Alex is sufficiently distracted that he doesn’t seem to notice Henry freezing behind him. He twists his head and gets a hand in Henry’s hair to smash their mouths together, rubbing his arse back against Henry’s cock, which is enough to reignite the heat in Henry’s gut. This is familiar, at least—being unable to keep their hands off each other. This is normal. This is enough.

“I guess I can leave this to simmer. But we gotta be quick,” Alex huffs when they break out of the kiss again. He pushes Henry back, but only enough so he can turn and loop his arms around Henry’s neck. “Quiero que esto sea perfecto porque es para ti, mi amor. Si tan solo supieses lo mucho que esto significa.”

Christ. Henry’s insides are molten at the way Alex’s tongue curls around the words. “What does that mean?”

“It’s not important,” Alex says cheekily, kissing him again.

Henry has to laugh. “I suppose I deserve that.”

“Mm,” Alex hums in agreement, shuffling them back toward the bedroom, hands kneading Henry’s arse as he grinds their clothed cocks together. “Need you, baby.”

“You have me,” Henry breathes in between their kisses. For just as long as you’ll keep me.

Notes:

Translations for Henry's Greek Poetry:

I lie here miserable and broken with desire,
pierced through to the bones by the bitterness
of this god-given painful love.
(Archilochus, fragment 193, translated by Willis Barnstone)

Once again Love, that loosener of limbs,
seizes me —
sweetbitter, inescapable, crawling thing.
(Sappho, fragment 130, translated by Diane Raynor)

And Alex's words: "I want this to be perfect because it’s for you, my love. If only you knew how much this means."

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