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Alex sits outside, in the rain, yet again. He's chilled down to his bones in his suit, and the poor flowers in the corsage pinned to his lapel is wilting under the pressure. Somehow, he found himself working with Henry. Again. And Henry's been acting strange -well, stranger than usual -since Little Wo(men). The movie was a huge success, and they've been getting more and more joint offers than ever. It's great for their careers individually, but Alex doesn't know how much longer he can take being only known as opposite Henry Fox.
He's playing a teenager, this time, sitting outside on prom night. It's a cute little romance, nothing too serious. It's good representation, so Alex took it, even if it means he'll be stuck with Henry again. He's been acting more nervous lately, trying to be friendlier. He even sent flowers to Alex's dressing room earlier that day. Alex supposes he should thank him for that, later.
He sits while the director yells for action, and Henry comes outside. He looks rather dapper in his suit, blue tie complementing his eyes perfectly. He looks younger, too, with all his stubble shaved away. It looks nice.
He stands beside Alex for a moment, like they blocked, and he finds he doesn't mind the silence. He tells himself it's because he doesn't have to hear Henry's annoyingly perfect English accent.
"It's raining on prom night," Alex remarks, resting his cheek in the palm of his hand. "what a mess. How did you find me?"
"I thought you could use a friend."
Alex scoffs. "We've been such good friends lately, Ben."
"Well," Henry flashes him that charming grin that he uses to disarm interviewers. It's fake, not even reaching his eyes, and Alex hates it. "beggars can't be choosers, can they, Oliver?."
They rest in that silence again, before Henry starts to walk away. Alex grabs his hand, like he's done so many time in rehearsals. Henry's skin is always so warm against his, breaking the chill of the rain they keep finding themselves caught in. "Hey. We never did get our dance."
"There's no music. And, in case you hadn't noticed, there's just a little..." he gestures around them, and Alex smiles.
"Just a little rain. I bet if you close your eyes, you can hear the music."
Henry closes his eyes, and Alex wraps his arms around his neck and sways. Henry rests his chin atop Alex's head, and he doesn't hate the feeling of his arms snaking around his waist. Maybe he doesn't hate Henry at all.
"This is a pretty good song," Henry whispers into his hair. Alex lifts his face to speak, but Henry cuts him off with a kiss. It's slower than their others, but no less passionate. Their mouths fit easily together, they find a natural rhythm. His lips are as soft as ever, dripping with fake rain, and he has that familiar smell on his clothes. He maybe lingers just a second too long after they cut and hold for the lense change, and Alex pretends not to notice. He pulls away quickly, as always, and wraps his arms around himself. They're filming at night and the water is freezing. He can hear his teeth chattering in his head.
He and Henry don't speak, and that comfortable silence is gone. It's awkward again, both avoiding the other's gaze. Alex looks up and can swear he sees Henry just then looking away, as if he had been staring. "What?"
Henry clears his throat. "Nothing. You look cold."
"Yeah, well." Alex gestures to his wet clothes. Without a word, Henry grabs a blanket from the PA and wraps it around Alex's shoulders. "Thanks."
"Yeah," his fingers linger on the blanket. "No problem."