Chapter Text
"My name is Henry, I'm 26 and I'm from London," Henry says into the camera, ending with a smile that he hopes doesn't look too put on.
The small set has been dressed to look like a book nook. It's meant to look cozy for the people watching, but having sat in it for the last 45 minutes whilst being poked, prodded, brushed and tousled, Henry can attest, quite abjectly, to its utter discomfort.
He might kill Pez when this is over.
He's given a real book - the set being made up of cardboard that's made to look like a shelf of books - and asked to peruse it.
"Just forget about the cameras," is the advice, as if that is just ever so simple, but it does become easier with a steady stream of instructions thrown at him.
"Perfect Henry, can you put your feet up? Look as comfortable as possible, just some rainy day reading, tilt your head towards us - that's it, fantastic."
It's quite the rigmarole.
"I'm an author, I currently have two books published under a pseudonym, and a third on the way. You might say they're adult books. I don't like to blow my own trumpet but I like to think of myself as a modern day Austen. I truly believe if Austen were a writer in today's publishing landscape, those heated gazes from across ballrooms would become something far more erotic."
To be fair, he hasn't told a lie. While Naked Attraction wasn't a show he'd ever watched willingly, he'd seen enough of it to wonder whether or not there were any falsities in people's stories; his own experience said not.
"I've never done much in the way of dating. For many years it wasn't intentional, my sexuality wasn't accepted by my family and so I had to - shall we say - take what I could get when I could get it." Henry looks a little coy saying this into a camera, it causes a ripple of a laugh behind the scenes. “And then being an author, I have periods where I'm basically a recluse just holed up in an office. Not ideal for meeting men.”
“My best friend signed me up for this behind my back, thanks Percy, I've always wanted to get naked on TV.”
Alex is bisexual in theory.
Okay, that may be a little white lie because he has jacked off and been jacked off by two seperate guys, so he can get it up for a guy, but going on a date with a guy? Whose first impressions of him will be entirely physical? Alex doesn’t know if he’s that bisexual.
That said, it is far too late to back out now, he’d already taken the job - one that he was headhunted for on the streets of London, no less - and is standing, naked, in a glass box to have his body admired (he hopes) by a man he has never seen before in his life.
If he hadn't been in England for 3 months already, if he hadn’t been introduced to the show at a memorable 4am when he was definitely not supposed to be watching trash TV with his new partner-in-crime Abi, he might have thought the whole thing was a joke, but it just so happened that he was approached that very same afternoon, after a solid three hours of sleep.
He’d spent the best part of two hours in the same room as the five other guys he was going up against; it had been nice to share the nervous, slightly competitive energy with a few other people in the same situation. They were briefed on what to expect, clear outlines of each round and thier instructions, if any, for each, and an indiction of how things ran when they went smoothly. Should they be chosen by the single making the decisions, they should expect the date and de-brief to happen with in a week. Whatever happens after that is up to them.
It’s enough of a ice breaker for the six guys left in the room to immediately start talk to those nearest to them.
He gets along with Raphael, a French guy who's taller than Alex by... miles, maybe? He's dark-skinned, built like a brick wall and when he switches to Spanish to call Olly a son of a whore, Alex nearly loses his mouthful of coffee through his nose. It's a bonding experience.
Olly is immediately disliked by everyone, including the crew. He tells each person individually that his name is Oliver "but my friends call me Olly, that's O double-L Y," in his long, drawn out, posh accent and acts as though he's the greatest thing since the creation of Helados. After the third time hearing it, Alex finds himself rolling his eyes, along with everyone else.
Pete is the oldest of them, the only man there not in his twenties but in his mid thirties - variety is the spice of life Alex guesses. He has a few tattoos dotted around his body, notably, when he's stripped down to his underwear, on his thigh, a double-headed snake wrapped around an ornate dagger in a traditional style.
Harry doesn't stand out much, Alex would struggle to pick him out of a crowd. He's of average height, though shorter than Alex, he's stocky and has a little bit of a belly, thick arms accented by a slightly too small top but otherwise he's mild and more than a little bland.
The last to arrive, just a little late, is Stefan. He's kind and outgoing and the only one who manages to find common ground with Olly, seemingly without wanting to smash his face into a wall. His long hair comes down past his shoulders in loose curls and Alex can honestly say he'd have no qualms about getting his hand tangled in it.
They're all herded into their colored boxes like horses to stables, some more bashful than others in their nakedness, and told to remember what color they are as that will be how they're addressed until they're either voted out or in the final two.
Alex wonders what he has let himself in for.
"Henry! Welcome to insanity!" Anna smiles at him from across the stage, just a few steps away. He's almost regretting letting them put him in a jumper. With so many lights and all the electrical equipment in such close quarters, he's rapidly heating up.
"Lovely to meet you, Anna," he lifts up onto the balls of his feet, bobbing once and twice, expelling nervous energy.
"So tell me," Anna says, pulling things along, "why are you here?"
"Can I be frank?" He asks, awaiting Anna's quietly excited 'please do' before he continues. "My best friend thinks I'm a dreadful bitch when I haven't had a shag in a while. This was his cry for help."
Anna laughs genuinely, her head thrown back briefly.
"I think we can all relate, Henry. Never fear, Naked Attraction has a veritable feast for you, I'm sure we can find you something, even if it's just for the night'" there's a pause where she raises an eyebrow at him to illicit a reaction and then, "so, how do you feel about meeting your next date while he's completely naked?"
"It certainly levels the playing field a little bit, I won't lie it does feel a little shallow, I'm usually interested in a man's mind first but I'll let myself have this, as a treat."
"That's the spirit," Anna says, "okay now, Henry, in front of you there are six colored pods, each containing a very naked man. These were hand picked by our team especially for you based on the list of physical attributes that you provided us with when we asked you what you found attractive."
Henry nods his understanding.
"We're going to reveal them, little bit by little bit," she continues, "all you have to do, is whittle them down from six to one using naked attraction alone. Are you ready?"
Henry takes a deep breath.
"I'm ready."
"Let's see some cock!"
Henry wants to make a run for it and he's not even the one naked yet. He is definitely going to kill Pez the minute he's out of this studio.
The front of the pods lift up, green, pink, red, yellow, blue and orange, spread out before him in a shallow semi-circle, revealing a display of ankles, shins, knees, thighs and stop, just high enough on the hip for each man to show off his cock. It's as exactly as obscene as Henry expected it to be, but he cannot help but watch, his eyes hopping around until eventually he finds the first thing to focus on.
"Dear lord," he can't help but gasp, " is that a prince albert?" He takes a step forward, stooping down a little to get a closer look at red.
"I think it is, Henry," Anna laughs, stepping closer alongside him, "get closer, don't be shy."
He does. Red stands taller and juts out his hips a little obviously. The piercing looks thick and heavy and doesn't at all match the body or the cock of the man wearing it. His legs are slim and not really toned, there's basically no hair above the knee and his pubic area is so well groomed; it's bald.
"What do you think?" Anna prompts.
"I think that's rather terrifying, and not even a little bit attractive - sorry, red." Henry answers bluntly.
Red lowers his hands to show a thumbs down, and Henry steps back.
"Anyone catching your eye in a good way, Henry?"
Henry takes a few steps over to the blue pod, second to last in the line up.
"I've never thought of myself as a size queen before, Anna, but blue certainly has me curious."
"How are you with your mouth? Do you think you can tackle something that size?"
"I think I'd be willing to give it a go," Henry laughs, red in the ears. "I like his thighs too, plenty to hold on to, I'm excited to see the rest."
Blue spins around slowly in his pod, giving Henry and Anna a little bit of a show, clenching his backside when it's on show.
"Oh he's confident," Anna giggles.
"With an arse like that, who could blame him?" Henry's initial anxiety is dissipating rapidly.
He takes a few steps, another scan around and lands on green.
"What's going through your mind?" Anna nudges.
"I've never seen a prettier cock, perfect thighs, the hair makes me a little bit crazy."
"Oh we like green, then!" Anna sounds somewhat delighted and finally Alex knows for a fact they're talking about him. The little swell of pride in his chest helps with all the nerves going on.
Perfect.
He'll take that.
Alex lowers his hands and forms a heart with his forefingers and thumbs.
"Adorable," Anna comments.
"Sorry, Green, may I see your hands again?" Henry asks, his vowels looping in a much more pleasant tone to Olly's, despite it being a very similar posh accent.
Alex lowers his hands again, holding them under the half raised screen like someone showing off their freshly done nails, wiggling his fingers.
"Henry, are you alright, love?" Anna asks. It sounds as though she's smiling.
"I'm great." Henry answers, a little hoarser than before.
Alex thinks he may have a chance.
Henry moves on, giving commentary on the others as though it's completely normal, and Alex's nerves have turned into something akin to excitement. It takes him a moment to realize that it isn't the situation he's in, there is still an element of mortification knowing that his face will soon be shown and soon an entire nation of people will be able to say they have seen his dick - his perfect dick - on tv. What's doing it is the idea of finally seeing Henry.
To put a face to the voice he is rather enjoying listening to. He's confident and quick-witted, throwing Anna's quips back at her with perfect ease. It’s impressive.
"Alright," Anna claps her hands, "It's decision time, Henry."
"I'm afraid to say this isn't a difficult one for me, Anna." Henry says.
"I had a feeling you'd make this bit look easy."
"Not by choice," Henry scolds, "the next few will certainly be more difficult, but there is one that's just an immediate turn off. I'm going for red."
"I don't think I need to ask, but why red?" Anna asks.
"You might think it's just the piercing - it's not." Henry explains, "If the piercing was on any of the others, I would be more intrigued than turned off, I just don't think he suits it. The piercing is giving man, when the body says boy. It feels odd to me."
The red pod face starts to rise as Anna finally introduces the man behind it.
"You are saying goodbye to Olly, he's 24 and he's a postgraduate student at Cambridge!"
Olly, looks a little more than pissed off. There's an angry red flush on his cheeks as he comes face to face with Henry and steps out of the pod and over to Anna at her invitation.
"My apologies if I was a little harsh." Henry tries to soothe a bruised ego.
Olly sticks his nose a little higher in the air to snark back.
"I'll grow into it I guess."
It only serves to prove Henry right about Olly being a boy, he made the right choice and they watch him go with no real fascination for his behind either.
"Sorry Olly," Anna says, "off you go, Henry's search for a man continues with the remaining five. Shall we see their middles, Henry?"
"Let's do it, Anna."
The pod fronts start to rise again, belly buttons, pecs and nipples slowly unwrapped in a strange party game fashion. Henry finds himself wanting to save the best till last. He point blank refuses to look at green first though everything in his body wants to.
He goes to yellow.
"Initial thoughts?" Anna asks "What kind of body do you usually go for?"
"I've never really thought about it, my experiences have all been with some kind of sports player, one of them was a very generous rugby player, so that was nice."
"What about yellow, then?"
"Yellow looks as though he could be older, there's a few grays in the hair, now I do like that," Henry muses, "nice arms too."
Yellow flexes his right arm to show off the thick muscle of his bicep.
Henry hums and strolls over to pink.
"Again, not much in the way of hair."
"I'm starting to think body hair is important to you." Anna teases.
"Me too, I didn't realize. I like it. The feel of it, the smell of it. Christ, I sound as gay as a maypole, don't I?"
There's a ripple of laughter amongst the five men still waiting their turns, a comical bounce of cocks and chests.
“No judgment here,” Anna laughs.
“I feel as though it might be fetishy to say that I wouldn’t mind putting my hands all over blue,” Henry says, taking a few sideways steps in that direction. “Look at the size of you.”
Blue presses his thumb and forefinger together in an okay motion, and gives an excited little wiggle.
“And what about green? Is he still living up to expectations?”
“I shan’t say, Anna. I fear I'll give the game away.”
Anna laughs, loud and impressed.
“Does that mean you’re ready, Henry? It’s elimination time.”
“Sorry, pink.” Henry shrugs, sadly.
“You’re missing out, Henry.” Anna jibes, the mechanic whirr of the pod face lifting filling the studio, “this is Stefan, he is a 29 year old artist from Lincoln.”
Stefan shakes Henry's hand when he exits the pod, grinning boyishly. Henry wonders how a man with so much hair on his head has so little on his body, but he will admit, he’s cuter than Olly. A much more graceful loser too.
Alex has a serious case of butterflies, nerves and excitement blooming into flapping wings at the elimination of Stefan and the realization that his face is the next thing on show.
Alex knows he’s got charm, a pretty smile, a smart mouth by American standards. He didn’t come to England expecting to date, so far, he’s gone without even trying to hookup for a night, completely focused on work, but whether it's for camera or not, this might change things and Alex has managed to get himself invested.
“Henry,” Anna starts, startling Alex, who had gotten lost in his own thoughts briefly, “are you ready to see some faces?”
“Is it that time already?” Henry asks, his grin audible.
“Best smiles boys, let’s see those faces!” Anna announces, and motors start to hum.
It doesn't take long, since the front of the pod is already at their necks. Alex plasters a smile on his face and prays that the pounding of his heart doesn’t give him away, a real fear by the time Alex actually sees Henry.
He’s tall, and broad shouldered, slim waisted with obnoxiously thick thighs and toned calves.
Dios mio.
“I am a sucker for a smile,” Henry says, looking across the four occupied boxes, bottom lip pulled between his teeth.
“Are you a sucker for anything else in a man?” Anna asks, obviously leading into a more prompted section of the recording.
“I’ve known that I'm gay for as long as I can remember, but of course like any pre-teen, especially living in a family such as my own, I tried to kid myself, I let my older brother plant doubt in my mind. Then something really made it clear to me.” Henry continues to speak, while Alex and the others are handed hobby horses, a very small pair of underwear, and insultingly cheap assless chaps, held around thier waists with tight elastic.
“My family are big on horse riding, and even bigger on the sport of polo. As a 13 year old lost to the whims of puberty, I found no greater joy than watching the boys twice my age control a horse with nothing but their thighs. A man who can ride a horse well is a God in my eyes.” He finishes.
Alex is sweating all of a sudden. It’s possible his whole body is flushed and slick as he realizes what is about to happen. Of course, they’d been warned that they would make idiots of themselves, even putting the nakedness aside, British humor almost demands a small amount of self-flagellation for something to stand a chance at being recognised as comedy, even so, this borders on sadist humiliation.
The one saving grace is the lack of studio audience.
“I’m so glad you said that, Henry, because I think it’s about time for a Naked Attraction Gimmick, don’t you?” Henry has the decency to look the slightest bit mortified, but he nods and smiles, a faint blush over his nose.
“Right boys, we’re going to ask you to put on the outfits you’ve been given, and when you’re ready, Henry will give you your riding directions.”
There’s music playing before Alex has pulled up the tiny briefs, its corny and vaguely familiar, probably from some old time western film, which is, unfortunately, evocative enough of riding a horse that if he forgets about the cameras, this could almost be fun.
There’s a moment when Henry is waiting for everyone to have on thier outfits, and their wooden horse in place before he raises his voice over the music:
“Walk!”
Alex thinks of his sister and hopes to whatever deity may be listening that word of this never reaches her. In fact, if she ever tells him she plans to visit England, he’ll find a way to shut down every airport in their vicinity.
When Henry calls out “trot” Alex finds attentive eyes trained on him. With his body turned to the side, he’s all hip bone and ass and Henry admirs the curve of it, the underwear doing nothing to hide anything. It feels good, strangely exhibitionist, and so Alex calls on the few weeks of riding experience he has and does his best to make it look good.
“Well, I think the horses are all puffed out, orange, you were chomping at the bit there,” Anna starts Henry off.
“Lovely smile Orange, but I don’t think you’ve ever seen a horse in your life, never mind ridden one,” there’s a pitiful sort of disdain in his voice.
“Who’s the rider amongst them, then?” Anna prods and Henry's eyes slide to Alex, meeting his gaze and then dropping it to explore the skin of his torso appreciatively, apparently done with the bashful glances.
Alex didn't do any grooming in preparation like most of the others did. There was a time that he was self conscious about it; in school when the trail of hair on the inside of his thighs leading upward and blending into the hair around his crotch was thicker and more pronounced than everyone else's. When he got looks at 19 for wearing his shirt open and showing off the light thatch on his chest, but he's never had complaints.
His hair all grows in the right places, it's coarse and dark and sits on his body the way it's meant to, and Henry looks at him as though he appreciates it more than anyone else Alex has ever encountered when naked.
"Have you made a decision? Who's limping off into the sunset without a horse?"
"Orange, Anna."
"Bad luck, orange. Henry, you are saying goodbye to Harry, he is 26 and a finance assistant from Peterborough!"
Alex can't say he's surprised at Harry's exit but maybe that's his ego talking.
Henry fucked up.
He'd done well to avoid looking over at green up to now. There's been a hot tangle in the pit of his stomach since he first took a step toward that particular pod and a sharp, insistent tug back in that direction every time he walks away. He was trying to ignore it, to at least make it seem as though the others were actually competition, but a hobby horse pole between those thighs was not something Henry could bear to leave in his peripheral.
He watched, transfixed.
Green was genuinely the only one who did move as though he'd ridden before, in the subtle action of his hips, and the gentle, yet commanding grip of the reins, despite the stupidity of it all.
Green is, without doubt, the most beautiful man Henry has ever seen in his life.
He can't help but think it's a good thing that this is all for show. A man like that would surely set him on fire. He would be careless to let himself believe it was real.
"It's time to hear their voices, Henry, are you partial to any particular accent?"
"Not particularly," Henry shakes his head, a small smile pulling up the corner of his mouth, "I do like a smart mouth though, I can be wordy, I want someone who can keep up with me."
"You heard him boys, now it's time to impress him, Henry is an author boasting two published period romance novels, one of which made it into the New York Times bestseller lists," Henry's ears go pink again, his eyes tipping down to watch his toes push upward and crease the front of his shoes, "tell us, as the love interest of Henry's story, how do you intend to win him over? Shall we start with yellow?"
The man in the yellow pod seems to have a few years on the other two, there are more lines on his face and some grays weaved all through the hair on his body, it's nice to look at. He's good looking too, the evidence of regular exercise in thick ropes of muscle in his legs, over his shoulders and down his arms, the colors of his tattoos drawing attention to them.
His voice is gravelly and slow with an accent Henry places in the Midlands.
"I know period drama is all the rage right now, but I can take you into a period of your love life that’s drama free."
Henry smiles and nods, polite. It would be rude to yawn and he was raised better than that.
"Blue, how about you?"
Blue's voice surprises him. It’s higher than he was expecting - only by a small margin - but buttery smooth, and exceptionally pleasant.
“Henry, with me you’d never be short of inspiration for your next book. I’ll make sure you make headlines for your steamiest novel yet.”
A nice thought.
“That’s fighting talk, alright, Green,” Henry’s stomach lurches, “what have you got?” Anna looks as though she has the whole thing figured out, like this is just sealing the deal. Henry hopes she’s right.
“I'm from Texas, so forgive me if I don't know my Brontës from my Austens but I could show you a morning glory at my window that'll satisfy you better than the metaphysics of any book.”
Anna sucks in a breath through her teeth and Henry thinks of that one Leonardo DiCaprio reaction image, biting his fist with his eyes rolling back in his head and barely refrains from acting it out, looking at Anna instead, wide-eyed and flushed.
“Admit it, this is a hard one.” Anna teases.
No, it absolutely is not.
“It is,” Henry says, rubbing his hands together slowly, looking between the three pods.
“Unfortunately, you do have to lose a muse, so, who’s it going to be.”
“Yellow,” he says, resolutely.
Yellow smiles, leaning forward to put his hands on his knees, dejectedly.
“You almost made it, yellow, Henry, this hunk is Pete. he is 36 years old and a physiotherapist from Wolverhampton!”
Pete walks between them with his head held high.
“Henry, I don’t know about you, but I think you’ve seen everything these strapping young lads have to offer, I think it’s time to return the favor. Get back there and get those clothes off.”
Alex is going pass out - maybe. He definitely cannot be held accountable for his actions. Do the british allow dick sucking on TV? Alex Gabriel Claremont-Diaz is, as of this moment, unequivocally bisexual.
“Alright.”
Alex and Raphael are brought down out of the pods and onto the stage floor.
“Alex,” she gestures toward him, “Raphael,” toward the other man, “congratulations, you made it to the final two, and now the tables turn. The last time you saw Henry, he was all covered up, not even an ankle on show.”
They look at each other quickly, a smile passing between them.
“That has all changed,” Anna carries on, “are you ready to see Henry in all his glory?”
“Yes,” they answer in unison.
“Let’s bring him out.”
Henry arrives in a stretch of pale skin and soft looking sandy hair, his chin jutting out with determination, reaching them in no time in three long, toned strides.
Alex's brain is static. Mush. Possibly leaking from his ears.
“How are you feeling, Henry?”
“Surprisingly liberated,” Henry chimes happily, despite his face starting to glow a pretty shade of pink.
“Alex, what do you think about Henry’s body?” Alex lets himself look, long and sweeping, from his toes to the top of his head.
“There are certain things that can’t even be said on British TV, sweetheart,” he says, fixing his eyes on Henry’s, staring him down.
“Alex, that’s a positively hungry look there, down boy. Raphael, could you see yourself with a man like Henry?”
“God, I could spread him out for an all day breakfast,” Raphael says, all silky like, and Henry shifts, his thighs glancing together. Alex watches as though he’s about to see a fire start, or maybe he could cause one.
“All day? Something to think about?” Anna raises her eyebrows at Henry.
Alex is thinking about challenging Raphael to a duel.
“I told you this would get harder.” Henry says.
“Henry, can you put us out of our misery, who-” a pause, “-are you taking out on a date?
…
“Alex.”