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Off-Brand Alice [12:39 PM] NORA OH GODS I JUST MET THE LOVE OF MY LIFE AND HE THINKS I HAVE A SMALL DICK
Me [1240 PM] HAHHAHHAHAHHAAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHHA
Me [1240 PM] tell me EVERYTHING
*
It starts, of all places, in the library.
The thing is, Alex is studying. He’s in the Zone (as Nora calls it) oblivious to everyone around him, hand working furiously as he writes out the sample physics midterm he’s been working at for an hour now. He’s actually kind of proud of himself- it’s only his first practice test, and he’s only had to consult the internet like two times. By the time the actual midterm rolls around- 15 days from now, although if you ask Alex why he’s cramming for an exam that’s that far away he won’t be able to tell you- he knows he’ll have all his facts in the bag. Or on a very full cheat sheet.
And like, he likes physics. It’s not his favourite subject- that one goes to math, for sure- but it’s okay. The thrill of solving a question right is always the same, whether it’s differential equations or torque problems. The only problem is that Alex likes being the best at everything- it’s kind of a side effect to having an older sibling. They were always competing with each other when he was growing up, in sports and academics and who can finish their food first, and now he just doesn’t know how to turn that side of his brain off. These days, he doesn’t compete with June anymore, so all that leftover energy goes into competing with himself, until he’s pushing harder and harder to fulfil goals so high even his overachieving mother looks at him with worry sometimes.
The point being- Alex is studying, and he’s really bad at noticing the environment he’s in when he’s studying, so when Cute Boy taps his shoulder he- he kind of screams. A little. Like in a totally manly way.
“I’m so sorry” Alex apologises, and he can’t help but notice how red Cute Boy is becoming under the glares of the few people studying around them. He wishes they were gone- that it was just the two of them, alone in the room with nothing but books, and he could just reach his hand out and feel how soft his bright golden hair was-
“-Alex Claremont-Diaz?” Cute Boy asks- and oh, his eyes are blue, and he has a fucking British accent as Alex is so screwed.
“Huh?” He says, eloquently, before cringing so hard internally he’s sure Cute Boy can see it in his eyes.
“I said, are you Alex Claremont-Diaz?” He repeats, and now his lips are twisting up in slight amusement and his eyes are practically glowing and Alex just-
“Yeah. Uhm. Sorry about the- the scream” he says, chuckling nervously, before he realises he’s already apologised once. Cute Boy waves his hand in a clear dismissal of the incident, and goes on to say- “I’m going to need you to let me look at the computer you’re using. It says here that you’ve made an inappropriate search, and I need to make sure we got that right so we can go forth from there. According to this, the exact keywords you used were-“ he stops, clearing his throat and blushing slightly- “‘moi small dick’. So I need to- um- check that computer now.”
Alex is done. He’s going to leave everything, go to the Himalayas and live the life of a saint, because clearly he can’t ever show his face here again, and what really is the point of college if you can’t even go to the library. Maybe the ground will swallow him whole now. Here’s this really cute boy, and he thinks he has a- a-
"Okay, this is the single most embarrassing thing that has ever happened to me in my entire life.” He says out loud, before swinging out of his chair so Cute Boy can take his place. He puts his face in his hands, muffling his very awkward “I was just looking for the Moment of Inertia of a small disk, it must’ve been autocorrect or something. I don’t- I mean, my di- I mean-“
“I’m sure your dick is fine.” Says Cute Boy, and shit, he’s full on laughing now, but also he’s red and Alex thinks that he’s died and reached both heaven and hell at the same time because laughing and embarrassed, Cute Boy looks positively angelic. “I’m sorry” he says lamely for like the hundredth time, but Cute Boy just laughs some more and gets up. “I’ll let you get back to it, then” he says, winking and turning away from the ashes that were once Alex. “Oh, and you might want to do the 2018 midterm first. It’s more consistent with the way Professor Z writes his exams.”
With that, Cute Boy walks away, and Alex can already feel the empty air where he was standing a minute ago, as if Cute Boy has left some part if himself in it. He’s certainly taken some part of Alex with him, because no matter how hard he tries after that, he can’t seem to focus on the paper he’s doing, too distracted by his own stupidity and awkwardness and Cute Boy’s amazing, gorgeous blush.
Fuck.
*
He makes a list, because that is what he does. Things he knows about Cute Boy-
- He works at the library.
- He has the most beautiful skin. And hair. And smile, oh gods his smile-
- He has taken, or is currently taking, Professor Z’s Physics class.
- He’s from England, because *sigh* that accent.
And yeah, maybe that’s not a lot, but it’s something, so Alex takes his little stupid list and gets to work trying to find Cute Boy. He starts in his lecture- for the first time, he really looks around in class, keeping an eye out for Cute Boy’s fluffy, pale hair. He doesn’t find it, but he does see a few people from his other classes in this class, and that just makes him feel bad about not being in touch with anyone and being the nerdy recluse he is.
But he has Nora, and June, and he’s never really felt the need for anyone else.
The fact that Cute Boy isn’t in his class probably just means that he’s in another lecture- which means that the second part of his plan (getting Cute Boy to study with him) might still be valid. Please let it still be valid. It’s fine, Alex can move on.
He starts visiting the library a lot more. And it’s not like he doesn’t go there often enough as it is- he’s on first name basis with the receptionist and everything, a fact he’s so proud of he’ll repeat it to anyone who even vaguely mentions the library, aiming for casual and falling about a hundred miles too short. He resolves to not look too desperate and use his “inside source”, because he knows Amy and he really doesn’t want to be ever be at the receiving end of her judgemental stare- but by the time the week ends, he’s spent 4 whole lunches in the library without a sight of Cute Boy and fuck pride, but he’s done.
“Hey, Amy?” He says on Monday, a full week after The Incident. To say that he’s been thinking about it might be the understatement of the century, but he doesn’t want to talk about it. Mostly because if Nora and June laugh at him one more time-
“Yeah, kid. What do you want?” She says, turning around and hitting him with dead set eyes. And suddenly, he’s sweating beneath his collar, but he powers on and asks- “You know that British student who works here? Do you know when his shift is?”
Amy stares at him for so long he thinks she’s maybe just a robot and can’t hear him at all, but he also knows that he is not imagining the judgement- or the amusement- dancing around in her eyes. This is exactly what he’d wanted to avoid, and he knows that he’ll never hear the end of it, and all of that makes him want to fidget or wilt under her gaze or both. He’s saved from- from himself, he guesses- by Amy’s short huff of laughter. “He works the night shift at Menley. And if I get to know you’ve told this information to anyone else so help me god-“
“Yes, Yes, I won’t tell anyone. Amy you’re the best I love you so much!” He says, already moving out of the library and feeling lighter than he has all week. Finally, he has a lead. Now, he just needs to make that lead a reality. Lead that lead. Get a lead on that lead.
He’s still working on it.
*
Monday night, he packs all his books, squares his shoulders, and walks into Menley Undergraduate Library for the first time in what feels like forever. The thing is, he has a favourite library- because obviously, who doesn’t- and it’s Graypoint (or, as non-followers like to call it, Main Stacks). It’s quieter, has more books, and is the oldest library on campus, so everything in it is infused with the rich aura of history. Not only can he focus better there, he also likes the knowledge that his hands are touching walls that have seen more than a century of students walking by, living their lives. It’s a heady feeling, if you let it sink in enough.
Menley is the exact opposite of Graypoint, one might say. It’s a new building, all sharp grey angles where Graypoint is beautiful white marble. It’s a “student friendly” library, meaning that all the books are kept on the upper floors and on the lower floor, you’re allowed to make as much noise inside as you want to. Technically speaking, it’s just a study room that grew too big to be called a study room anymore, but no one except Alex will say it. And Alex gets it, he really does. Some people like the buzz of chatter around them, and how it helps them focus more. Alex is just not one of them.
Ah, the things he does for love.
He has a very clear, very well thought out plan. Walk up to Cute Boy, ask him for help finding a book (“The Fundamentals of Aerodynamics” by John D Anderson, because he’s not above a little show off), casually ask him if he’s in the physics class, also casually ask him if he wants to study together sometime. Simple. Easy.
Except when he actually walks up to the circulation desk, he gets a little blindsided by how cute Cute Boy looks in a beanie, and the next thing he knows he’s blinking into focus and Cute Boy is looking at him with the biggest grin on his face and so, so much laughter in his eyes. “Can I help you?” He says, and Alex wishes he could think over the bells of Abort! Abort! Abort! in his brain but he can’t.
Ask him about the book, as him about the book! Some part of him supplies, and he decides to say fuck it to caution and self respect and just lets his mouth talk.
“I’m looking for a book and a study date, and I think you can help me with both.” Is what actually comes out, and he feels himself go red amongst vows to never let his mouth talk ever again.
Cute Boy is only shocked for a second, and the gods must really like Alex because he doesn’t like, call security on him. Instead, he just says- “Let’s hear it then, which book?”
“Um, it’s called the “Fundamentals of Aerodynamics”, by-“
“John D Anderson, yeah yeah I know. Great read, ten on ten would recommend. It’s on the third floor, shelf PZ, between the call numbers 1176 and 1178. Let me know if you have any difficulties finding it.” He says, all while looking Alex dead in the eye, and- and Alex thinks he needs to sit down because of how fast blood leaves his brain and heads straight for his dick.
Huh. So competency turns him on. Who is surprised.
Wow that’s hot, he thinks, and before he blurts it out loud he says- “And about the other thing?”
“Well, the other thing is a no go, because you don’t know my name, and I couldn’t possibly go out- even on just a study date- with someone who doesn’t even know what my name is. You understand, right?” says Cute Boy, and Alex is going to spontaneously combust because he’s definitely laughing at him and it’s doing things to his heart he can’t even begin to map out.
“We’re just going to have to change that, then, won’t we?” Says Alex, with more calm than he feels. And then, flashing Cute Boy a charming smile of his own, he walks off.
*
One gruelling begging session with Nora (“No, Alex, I am not hacking into a University’s employee system- what do you mean I don’t even go there. It doesn’t matter!”) and another, more gruelling session with Amy (insert more deadpan stares) later, he finally has a name.
Henry Fox-Mountchristen-Windsor.
Damn, triple hyphenation. It makes Alex’s admittedly mouthful of a name seem like nothing. And also, is Cute Boy- Henry- a prince or something? Who has such a regal name in this day and age?
Alex proceeds to ask Henry just that when he sees him next, letting a smug note creep into his voice because he has worked for this moment, okay, he deserves some smugness.
“Should I be creeped out that you know my name despite the fact that I never told it to you?” Henry says with a very complicated expression on his face, and boy did Alex not think this one through.
What else is new.
“Okay, I can see how that may be weird, but-“
“First you walk into a library and do google searches about your- cough- small dick. Then you stalk me and tell me you somehow know my name. Do you have any way to explain yourself?” He continues, and Alex’s heart sinks straight through his body into the depths of hell. Oh, put like that he sounds so creepy, no wonder he doesn’t have any friends, he has no concept of boundaries and he’s just such a social mess and he’s going to have to spend the rest of his days apologising to Henry-
He moves to do just that, before realising that Henry is laughing at him.
Henry is laughing. At him.
“I’m sorry, but you should’ve seen your face! It was so precious oh my gods I wish I could take a picture of it. But I guess I’m not as “stalker-y” as you. But I’m just kidding! Don’t worry. I’m friends with Amy too, and she told me you were asking- apparently I have the nicest blue eyes and a ‘smouldering accent’? Anyway, I thought I’d put you out of your misery, so I told her it was okay for her to share my name with you. It’s kind of cute that you would go that far.” He says, ending with a small bashful smile on red, red lips that Alex has a sudden urge to kiss thoroughly.
At this point, his heart has gone through too many emotions to be properly functioning, so it just decides to up and die, leaving Alex with a weird mix of relief and happiness and embarrassment that kind of makes him want to cry.
“Does that- does that mean we can have our study date then?” He says, licking his lips subconsciously and noticing how Henry follows the movement with his eyes.
“I guess we kind of have to, now.” Says Henry, mischief lacing his grin- and since Alex doesn’t have the guts to say anything to Amy, much less kill her, he thinks he’s just going to settle for killing himself instead.
He finds that he has no regrets.
*
“You’ve been staring at the same page for twenty minutes, Alex.”
He blinks his eyes rapidly, lifting his head from where it’d somehow listed onto his arm to look at the source of the voice. And yeah, maybe he shouldn’t be here anymore, because he has to blink a couple of more times before a face comes into focus, and he’s so sleepy he can’t even censor the grin that makes it all the way into his tired eyes.
It’s Henry. Of course it is.
They’ve fallen into an easy friendship over the past few weeks, after the initial awkwardness of I-know-you-like-me and lets-be-friends-for-now. Alex has realised that Henry is witty and an unmerciful tease, yes, but also that he’s shy and reserved, and that it takes him a while to be truly comfortable around someone- and he finds that he doesn’t mind the wait. He learns that Henry is a physics and classical literature double major, and that he thinks mechanical engineering is very cool (score one for Alex!) but that he doesn’t want to be an engineer. He learns that Henry has insomnia, so the night shift is the perfect way for him to pass time and make a little money on the side. He also learns, through many study sessions, that Henry is the perfect partner- silent for the most part, just a presence of solidarity that coexists in the same space as him without being assuming, imposing, or wanting anything from him. He finds that it’s very easy to make Henry blush, and it then becomes his life’s mission to see that crimson dusting on his cheeks as often as possible.
So he flirts. Unabashedly, laughingly, always giving Henry the option to treat it all as a joke. He’ll talk about how cute Henry looks in a shirt, or tease him about how he knows Henry can’t live without him. Once they realise they like the same kinds of books (which, thank you gods, that was an absolute necessity), he’ll spout random lines of cringe-y, out of context poetry that never fails to make Henry break out into that amused grin of his, and if he writes some cringe-y, out of context poetry of his own- that’s something no one needs to know.
Slowly, over late night coffee runs and mid-semester cramming sessions and one remarkable shift where Henry let Alex help him with his work, Henry begins to flirt back. And wow, Alex is left in shock every time he hears Henry’s answering quips, shameless and intelligent as they are. And then it becomes a competition, of sorts (it always is with Alex, isn’t it)- to see who can make the other blush first, until they reach the point where anyone else eavesdropping on their conversation must surely think they’re either extremely creepy or extremely in love. Alex hopes it’s the latter.
He has to shake himself from these thoughts as he refocusses on Henry’s worried face, not bothering to hold back the cheeky “Awwwww, I knew you cared about meee” that makes it past his unfiltered lips. He’s been waiting in the one free enclosed study space for Henry’s shift to get over so that they can walk home together, as they’ve started doing nowadays, and maybe today isn’t the best day for it because he can’t remember the last time he slept a full night’s sleep and maybe it’s all catching up on him now. He feels slightly drunk on lack of sleep and isn’t that an actual medical fact? That if you don’t sleep for like two days straight it’s the same thing as having a blood alcohol concentration of-
“Alex!” Henry says again, this time adding on a not so gentle nudge to his shoulder that has him sitting fully straight in his chair like he’s just been berated by the principal of the school for sleeping in class or something. “You’re falling asleep on the table, babe. Come on, let’s get you home.”
Did Alex mention that they’ve developed a weird habit of calling each other babe? It absolutely wrecks his heart every time Henry says it, until all he wants to do is hug him tight and do bad things to him but-
How are they not dating yet?
“I’m up, I’m up” he says, before Henry decides to rudely poke him again. He finds that most of his books have already been packed, and wow did he not notice Henry doing that but boy does it make his chest fill with happiness. There’s a moment where he has to battle a strong wave of dizziness, and then they’ve linked their arms around each other and started to walk out of the library.
He doesn’t remember any of the journey to his apartment, but he does remember this- Henry hugging him tightly, Henry’s lips ghosting over his ears, Henry whispering-
“Because you haven’t asked me yet.”
*
Things Alex knows about Henry, an Updated List-
- He wants to date him
- He wants to date him
- He wants to date him
- He wants to date him!
*
He had a plan, he swears he did. In his head, it happens something like this-
He calls Henry to their favourite coffee shop (really the only coffee shop on campus, so by default everyone’s favourite coffee shop) and makes sure he notices how he’s put in effort into his outfit today. And then he gets serious and mentions how he knows they’re great friends but would it be okay with Henry if they- because Alex really wants to-
What actually happens, though, is that they’re walking home one night before Alex’s grand plan is supposed to take place, and he’s just about to ask Henry to meet him at Buckingham (what a weird name for a coffee shop) tomorrow, but he turns around and Henry is looking at him with this softness in his eyes that makes Alex feel like he can see all of him, all the way to his core, and that he actually likes what he can see and-
And then they’re kissing.
Alex will never know how his lips made it from point A to point B, point A being way too far away from Henry’s lips and point B being blissfully, perfectly connected with Henry. All he knows is that he forgets to breathe, a little bit, and that he forgets his own name in the process too, and that’s okay, because Henry is the best kisser he’s ever kissed in his entire life and Alex is in heaven.
It is so much more that whatever he’d imagined, during classes and out loud to Nora and June’s groans. Henry’s lips are pillowy soft and slightly chapped, but all Alex notices is how well they fit against his own, and how he’s sure that the last shred of oxygen is in Henry’s mouth because he can’t even imagine living without it. How did he go two whole months without the feel of Henry’s hands on his waist, his thumbs drawing teasing circles over his shirt- or without the silky smoothness of Henry’s hair (which is definitely softer than he imagined) under his fingers?
When they part for air, too soon and too late at the same time, Henry is panting and his eyes are blown so wide Alex can barely see a ring of blue around the edges. He almost blurts out an “I love you”, but even he knows it’s too soon to say something like that and-
And also he gets distracted by the sight of Henry biting his lip abashedly, cheeks turning a brighter pink the longer he looks at Alex.
“I got tired of waiting for you to make the move.” Henry says, and Alex’s heart does cartwheels in his chest again because this man. Gods, this man. He knows he should probably mention how he’d planned it, how his move wasn’t that far away, but-
But he finds he’d much rather be using his mouth to kiss Henry.
So he does.