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When James leaves Alex is completely destroyed, a bombed out shell of a human being. For the first few days he holes up in his room and rewatches videos of them together, old live streams and episodes of the camp cast. It's dangerously easy to sink into it and forget about everything, he often catches himself grinning at the screen before it all comes rushing back and any sort of empty happiness he'd felt dissolves.
Everyone is worried about him. He can hear George and Will and Fraser having hushed discussions in the kitchen. When he comes out of his bedroom they all look at him like he's a dangerous animal. The room is silent, it feels as delicate as glass. George is the one to snap the tension.
"Hey," he says cautiously.
"Hi," Alex says. These are his best friends, why does he feel like he's stumbled across a group of strangers sitting in his kitchen? They keep staring at him as he shuffles over to the sink and fills a glass of water. He can feel their eyes searing into him.
When he turns to face then again he offers them a weak smile as some kind of reassurance. Permission to stop worrying about him so much. They all return the smile, looking relieved.
Alex takes his water back to his room and starts sobbing before he can take a sip. Will comes in to talk to him later that evening. He sits down uncomfortably in Alex's desk chair.
"Listen, Alex," he says, clearing his throat. "I know that this is really hard for you, but I want you to know that we're here for you. We're all here for you, me and George and Fraser. If you ever want to talk about it, we're here." It doesn't take much to crack Alex.
"I just don't get it," he says. "I thought we were happy. We seemed happy didn't we?" Will nods.
"Yeah," he answers. "You did."
"Then why did he leave?" Alex asks, he sounds desperate and pathetic even to his own ears.
"I don't know, mate," Will sighs. "I think he just wanted to get out of the YouTube thing and he didn't think he could do that if he was with you." That's what James told him before fucking off to Spain to work as a translator, but Alex just can't wrap his head around it.
"I just don't understand," Alex says.
"It was fucking stupid of him," Will says. "But it happened and I hate to say it, but you've really just got to deal with it." Alex sniffs. "You're going to be alright, yeah?" Alex shrugs. "You are." Will insists.
…
At night, Alex sometimes feels like he's clawing at the air. He needs some kind of comfort, but nothing gives it to him. Not YouTube videos or music or even drinking
Normally, when Alex feels bad asking for help is completely out of the question, he won't even consider, but during nights like these he's just so desperate he's not even thinking. And it doesn't help that he's a bit tipsy. He texts Will, his fingers flying across the keyboard.
The message is just two words, 'really lonely'. Will replies in less than a minute telling him to come over. Alex doesn't hesitate, he puts on his slippers and pads quietly down to Will's apartment.
Will welcomes him inside and folds him into a hug almost immediately, which startles Alex. He settles into the embrace.
"You alright?" Will asks, squeezing his shoulder.
"Not really," Alex answers, muffled into Will's chest.
"You wanna play Fifa or something? Get your mind off of things?" Will asks.
"Not really," Alex says again.
"What do you want?" Alex feels his face flush with heat even as he begins to say.
"Will you just hold me and talk to me?" He asks quietly. "It's fine if that's too weird for you."
"It's not too weird," Will says softly. "Whatever you need." They sit on the couch, Will with his legs stretched. Alex sits between them and leans back against Will's chest.
Will tells him about his day, about small stuff like what he ate for breakfast and slowly Alex drifts off to sleep.
When he wakes the next morning, he's turned over and his face is buried in Will's chest. His friend's arms are securely around him.
Later, after they've gotten up they sip coffee in the kitchen.
"I'm sorry for last night," Alex says after a minute. "I was being needy, it wasn't right of me to bother you like that."
"Hey," Will says. "You weren't bothering me. If there's anything I can ever do to help you, just ask for it, okay?" Alex looks down into his cup of coffee, nods and grins.
…
Life moves on, as it tends to, and Alex feels better. He starts making videos again, deletes all episodes of the camp cast, and at least makes an effort to stop thinking so much about James.
And then there's Will, always there on the other end of his phone. In a an apartment a floor down. The thought is always tucked away at the back of his head, something he reminds himself of when he's feeling particularly wrung out. And when he needs to, he texts him or goes to visit him and somehow Will always manages to make him feel better.
It's not that he doesn't trust his other friends, it's just easiest with Will for some reason.
Often, he'll spend nights at Will's. they'll talk into the early hours of the morning and sometimes Will goes to bed and Alex stays on the couch, but other times they just fall asleep on the couch together. Sleeping with Will is soft and reassuring and comfortable and the best sleep Alex has gotten since James left. He decides not to think too much about what that could mean.
George confronts him about it one morning as he slips back into the apartment.
"Where have you been?" He asks with a quirked eyebrow.
"Will's place," Alex admits bashfully. George eyebrow raises even further.
"Is that where you've been going at night?" He asks.
"Yeah." Alex shrugs.
"What've you been doing?"
"Talking," Alex says defensively. "He's been really helping me through the... the James thing."
"Hmm," George hums suggestively. "I'll bet."
"Whatever you're insinuating... it's not– we're just friends, George. Don't make this weird."
"Do you sleep in his bed?" George asks with a wicked smirk.
"Of course not!" Alex says. "I sleep on the couch."
"Alone?"
"Well..." Alex trails off. "Sometimes he falls asleep on the couch too." He mutters it, as if saying it quieter will keep George from noticing it.
"Yeah, hate to tell you mate, but you made it weird without any help from me."
"Oh fuck off," Alex groans.
…
One night Will's flatmate, Gee, has some friends over, so when Alex comes over they go to Will's room. Will puts a movie on his laptop.
They sit on his bed and drink rum. They start out sitting a respectable distance apart but somehow as they get drunker they drift closer together and suddenly Alex is tucked under Will's arm. It's warm and secure enough that he feels like he might fall asleep right there and a hazy memory of George asking if they slept in Will's bed floats through his sleepy head.
"You're adorable," Will tells him, and Alex's stomach erupts with a fluttering sensation. He's suddenly wide awake. He buries his face in Will's side.
"Stop," he giggles. Will runs a hand through his hair.
"You're just really fuckin' cute," he says. Alex can't stop smiling. "You're blushing!" Will exclaims. Alex can't stand it any more, he grabs Will's face and kisses him. It's a soft kiss, a sweet kiss. Sloppy and unrefined, he feels Will grinning into it. When they break apart, Will's the one blushing.
Alex should probably feel more freaked out by it than he does, but he's sleepy and drunk and content for the first time in a while, he just doesn't have it in him. He just kisses Will on the cheek, turns off the light and snuggles into Will's side.
…
They don't talk about the kiss in the morning, or any time after it. As nice as it was, Alex knows that getting into a relationship with Will is a terrible idea. It's been less than half a year since James left, and he's still wrecked over that. Still can't see a picture of James without feeling like he's going to vomit up all of his insides. He shouldn't be dating anyone, let alone one of his best friends. It just wouldn't be fair.
Will doesn't acknowledge it either, and it's easy to forget about. It's such a foggy memory that Alex can almost pretend it was a dream. He does start to spend less nights at Will's, and when he does they never sleep on the couch together. He supposes it has a lot to do with the kiss, but he hopes that maybe it's also a sign of him healing, being less dependent on others for comfort.
One night, they all go out to a club. It's the first time Alex has gone out since James left and all of his friends are unreasonably excited.
"Maybe you'll get laid," Fraser suggests.
"Yeah," Alex says, almost listlessly. He's remembering the nights when James was here, when they would all go out, but he and James would spend the whole time wrapped up in each other. And then James would take him home and fuck him and it was so good Alex could cry thinking about it. His distress must be obvious because Will puts a hand on his shoulder.
"Alright, mate?" He asks. Alex shoves the memories down, takes a shaky breath and smiles up at Will.
"Fine," he says.
The club they go to is big and packed full of people. Alex sticks close the the bar and Will sticks close to him, Fraser and George disappear into the crowd at different points during the night.
A woman comes up to Alex, she's pretty and seems perfectly nice, but no matter how hard Alex tries he can't bring himself to be into her. He glances at Will, who's staring at him, looking slightly ill. Alex buys the woman a drink and smiles and flirts, but it all feels like an empty performance. The club suddenly feels suffocating, the lights and the noise and the crowd are all pressing on his windpipe.
He mutters something about going outside to get some air, first to the woman and then to Will. The woman stays, Will follows.
They lean against the exterior wall of the club, Alex looks down at his trembling hands and suddenly feels like he might cry.
"Alex," Will says softly, it sounds like a promise, a reassurance. Will puts his hand on the back of Alex's neck and it feels like the only thing anchoring him to the earth.
"Will," Alex says desperately. There are so many things he wants to say, thank you, I love you, I miss him, what if I never stop missing him? His body isn't capable of handling all of these conflicting feelings at once, he doesn't think anyone's is. They're clogging the machinery, and sooner or later Alex is going to break down. His knees feel like they might give out any second. Will pulls him against his chest, arms tight around him. "Will." He says again, like if he says it with just the right inflection he can make him understand.
"Shh," Will says, pressing his mouth to the top of Alex's head. "Shh, let's go home."
"Can I sleep in your bed tonight?" He asks.
"O'course."
They go straight to Will's flat, he lends Alex a pair of sweatpants that need to be rolled up several times. Will does it for him as Alex sits perched on the edge of his bed. When he's done he stands up and kisses Alex like he's glass. Delicate and brief.
They crawl under the covers together and Will holds Alex tight against him.
"You're going to be alright," Will assures him over and over. To Alex it sounds like a prayer.
...
In the morning everything feels like ice. The empty bed beside Alex feels like ice, the floor beneath his feet feels like ice, the piping hot coffee Will has waiting for him in the kitchen feels like ice. The only thing that feel remotely warm are Will's eyes, lingering on him softly as he leans against the counter and sips from the mug.
"I think we should talk," Will says. Alex closes his eyes like he's too exhausted to keep them open.
"Yeah," he says defeatedly.
"You've got to have realized that I'm in love with you," Will says, Alex can hear the ache in his voice and it matches his own.
"And I–I feel that way too," he says.
"But," Will says miserably.
"God," Alex chokes, a hand over his mouth, muffling his voice. "James."
"Yeah," Will sighs.
"I don't think I'm ever going to get over him," Alex admits, saying it out snaps something inside of him in two.
"I don't want to be some kind of consolation prize," Will says, looking down at the floor.
"That's not what you are," Alex says, shaking his head sadly. "But it wouldn't be fair, for me to start dating you knowing I could never be fully yours."
"Alright," Will says tensely.
"I'm sorry," Alex says very softly. He stands up, rinses his mug out and leaves.
Back home he curls up on the couch and cries so hard George comes out of his room. He sits down on the couch next to Alex and rubs his back.
"Is this about Will or James?" He asks gently.
"Dunno," Alex answers. "Both."
"Do you want to talk about it?" George asks. And of course, Alex spills his guts.
"I just don't know how I'm ever going to be happy," he concludes, after explaining the situation.
"It sounds like Will makes you happy," George suggests.
"He does," Alex says. "But it's not fair for me to date him if I'm not over James. If I might never get over James."
"Well that's bullshit," George says. "Of course you're going to get over James. You had a really serious relationship that ended brutally, so it's going to take a while, but that doesn't mean it's just never going to happen. And I don't think you should let it get in the way of being happy, just because you miss James doesn't mean you love Will any less. Love isn't a limited resource."
"You sound like a fucking inspirational poster," Alex mutters. George grins and for a second everything feels alright.
…
There's a knock on Alex's bedroom door the next day and he knows that's it's Will before he comes in.
"Hey," Will says, clearing his throat. "Can I come in?"
"Yeah," Alex says carefully. He shuts his laptop as Will opens the door and steps inside.
"You're wearing my sweatpants still," he says. Alex looks down, as if to check.
"Oh," Alex says. "Did you come to get them back?"
"No!" Will assures him quickly. "Wanted to talk." He rubs the back of his neck.
"Can I go first? Alex asks. Will swallow, Adam's apple bobbing and he nods.
"O'course."
"George and I were talking and I kind of started thinking about it. Like, just 'cause I still have some kind of feelings for James doesn't mean I love you any less. Like my affection isn't some finite resource I have to chop up and divide between people, my feelings for you are their own, entirely whole thing. I understand if you're not comfortable with it, but that's how I feel."
"Alex, I'm not uncomfortable with it. I was coming here to tell you that–that I don't need you to 'belong to me' or whatever, if you you love me, then that's enough."
"I do." Alex says "I do love you."
"I love you too," Will says, he breathes it out like a sigh.
"Come here," Alex says. Will follows the direction and perches on the edge of Alex's bed. Alex leans forward so their faces are close, but Will closes the rest of the distance, catching him in a kiss. A solid kiss, a firm kiss. A kiss that feels like a promise, a promise that Alex allows himself to believe in.