Work Text:
𝒉𝒆𝒍𝒍𝒐
• ———— •
“He’s worried again” Henry murmured close to Alex’s ear, subtly gesturing over to their son who was idly grazing past the snack table, his expression blank, mind elsewhere. Alex looked and sighed, gently sipping his champagne.
“Aren’t you?”
Henry frowned, “are you?”
Alex shifted, “I... a bit” he conceded, “not that I care for his boyfriend much”
Henry rolled his eyes, smiling at an older couple who passed him by. He, Alex and Romeo were flown out of New York for a few days to an art gallery opening in Washington, the only reason Romeo came was to get out of school, however he looks as if he wishes he could be back home.
The night before their flight Romeo had wandered into the kitchen, asking if Moreau could come over. They always said yes (regardless if he asked Henry or Alex, though often he preferred to ask Henry so Alex had no idea, resulting in a humorous response from him), but this time Romeo was too worried to think about that.
It wasn’t too late, eight thirty, and they were just about to order pizza. The timing wasn’t the unusual part; it was the fact that Romeo looked nervous.
Apparently, Moreau seemed a bit... desperate in his texts. They instantly agreed and not even five minutes later he was ringing their screeching doorbell.
He looked fine, he acted normal, all smiles and witty back-and-fourths with Alex, but he had an air to him, something a bit tense, unfamiliar to his character.
It was when the food came that it all slotted into place.
They all had their own pizza, Romeo with pineapple and ham, Alex and a meat feast, Henry and his broccoli and cheese. (He always insists it tastes great, it doesn’t lessen the bullying he receives for it though. Romeo isn’t too bothered by it, it usually cancels out any comments he gets about his pineapple).
Moreau ordered a simple pepperoni and when he opened his box, he picked up a slice and pushed half of it directly into his mouth, biting down, chewing thrice before he shoved the rest in up to the crust.
Normally, he left the crust. Not that Romeo’s seen Moreau eat pizza much, but he knew he didn’t eat the crust. This time, he ate the entire thing, quickly too, which was the worrying part. He scoffed it down like a dog, as if he had been starved for weeks and this was his first touch of food.
Romeo kept nervously looking at his parents who caught on immediately. It wasn’t hard to notice.
They made light comments here and there but Moreau didn’t give any context to his situation, so they unwillingly dropped it.
Moreau left later that same evening, which was the worst part of it.
Romeo hadn’t gotten the situation off of his mind even if Moreau assured him over text everything was fine. He was moping in his worries and could barely smile whenever someone came up to him.
“Something must be going on at home” Henry suggested quietly, lips brushing the edge of his glass to prevent anyone from possibly lip reading at a distance.
Alex shook his head, “that’s what I don’t want to think about. It wouldn’t- fuck” he hissed, “it wouldn’t be stupid to say his mom might be under feeding him?”
Henry winced, “I don’t know. He’s never exerted that behaviour before”
“He was starving, Hen” Alex reminded.
He sighed, finishing the rest of his champagne and putting the glass on a tray as soon as someone passed by. “We shouldn’t have left,” he said, finally.
Alex leaned their shoulders together gently, “we shouldn’t have” he agreed, “fuck, why couldn’t Romeo have chosen a normal boyfriend?”
Henry cracked a slight smile, “you don’t mean that” he said dismissively, Alex muttered defensively but knew Henry was exactly right and he’d never wish for Romeo to have never found Moreau. They’ve grown on him so much and knowing he might be in a neglectful situation was troublesome.
Not even that alone; Moreau was almost seventeen, he could very well cook and make food for himself, it’s the idea that his mother is not only not doing that for him, but potentially not allowing him to do it either.
Unfortunately, halfway across the country, they couldn’t do anything but worriedly chew their bottom lips and keep a close eye out on Romeo.
Back in New York, Moreau felt putrid.
He had sat himself down at the back of his history class, dropped his head into his arms and tried his best to stifle down any vomit that wanted to escape up and out of his mouth. Ever since he woke up this morning the feeling hadn’t budged.
He threw up a couple of times around five am and filtered through a nightmarish three hours of barely there consciousness, either boiling hot from his quilt or freezing cold due to lack thereof.
Not only that, his entire body ached, and he had to prevent himself from hacking up a lung every few minutes when his dry throat tickled no matter how much water he drank.
Everything was too much. His senses had somehow amplified in the same way they diminished, causing everything around him to be loud but muffled, and the feeling of the sun laying across him was unbearable yet numbing.
All he could think about was how exhausted he was, yet how matter how much he screwed his eyes shut and begged for an ounce of sleep, it evaded him as if doing it on purpose.
He couldn’t stop letting his mind flicker back to last night. When he was sitting in the dining room with Romeo and his parents, vacuuming down the pizza after not eating since the day before lunch time.
His mother hadn’t been exactly kind to him recently when it came to food. Finally, she’s taken an interest in his football, and even attended a practice session a week ago. He was thrilled the entire time, smiling and waving at her constantly, but the drive home was draining.
She nitpicked at him, told him everything he did wrong, pointed out the fact he was gaining a bit of pounds (more so muscle than fat) and needed a stricter diet. Apparently, she needed to speak with a dietitian beforehand, which meant he had to cut back on his meals.
She refused him dinner, then lunch the next day. His stomach was in agony by yesterday evening; he had no choice but to sneak out to Romeo’s for something. Thankfully, he was allowed, not that he would’ve ever expected Henry or Alex to turn him away.
He smiled briefly as he thought about them.
“Moreau?” The teacher called. It took a great effort for him to lift his head which felt like a tonne of weights, when he did she paused, appearing concerned. “Are you alright?” She asked gently. He nodded, scrubbing his stinging eyeballs.
“Fine” he rasped, rubbing his chest to ease some tension, taking in slow, deep breaths.
“Do you need a minute?” She gestured to the doorway. He noticed everyone had turned to face him, some of them whispering with each other after seeing the state of him. Embarrassed, he nodded and stood up, shuffling out the room and thanking her quietly as she opened the door for him.
He stood in the hallway; the cold air acted as a sort of reliever for his burning skin, but his chest felt almost compressed. It was hard to breathe.
His stomach gurgled, he covered his mouth as he gagged a little. He supposes now was as good a time as any to visit the bathroom once again; he just hoped it was vomit only, and nothing else his lower half produced like earlier this morning.
Stumbling into the nearest bathrooms he locked himself in the furthest stall, shakily placing tissues across the bowl before pressing his hands against it, leaning over as bile contents flowed out of his mouth; a weird mixture of diluted acid and warm water.
It splattered into the bowl, his throat burned, and as he stood there, hunched over, eyes screwed shut, a painful stabbing pain began spreading through his chest. His legs wobbled under him and moments later gave way, forcing him to fall against the wall, pressing the back of his head into the cool tiles.
“Fuck- Alex-“ he gasped, paused, blinked. Alex. Why the hell did he call for Alex? That’s embarrassing. He could only connect it to the fact he was growing kind of terrified; he hasn’t ever been this sick before, and his breathing was only getting worse.
No matter how he breathed he felt like it wasn’t ever enough. His lungs demanded for more oxygen then he could give.
He clutched at his chest, a thrum of irregular heart beats thumped against his pale fingers.
In an attempt to do something about his predicament, he did something that definitely wouldn’t help. He gripped onto his phone and shakily opened up contacts, scrolling until he reached Romeo.
He called him.
“Yes, it’s absolutely beautiful” Henry complimented one of the artists who had their art displayed on a pure white podium. It was a statue of two dancers standing apart from each other when, in that particular dance, they should’ve been touching.
Alex stood beside him blankly. He didn’t understand the piece like Henry and the artist obviously did. He was just Henry’s lackey at this point. Since his mother finished her second term of presidency and he was no longer the first son, he dropped in popularity, which (quite honestly) wasn’t a bad thing, but as the years progressed people started to care less for him and viewed him as the prince’s husband more than Alex Claremont-Diaz, which sort of stung, but the lack of attention was pleasant.
He was a more famous lawyer than anything, which was a great feeling. Something he did by himself (that took a lot of damn effort) getting recognition, he’d never get over it.
“What do you think, Mr. Diaz-Fox?”
He blinked up, “oh, it’s- it’s-...” he stammered, trying to remember anything Henry said and alter it a bit, but coincidentally timing seemed to work in his favour as before he could make himself an idiot, Romeo was calling their names.
They turned to face him immediately, everyone did in fact, as he rushed over to them, phone in hand.
“What’s wrong, mi-...ja?” Alex corrected himself sharply, putting a hand on his shoulder to try and calm him down.
“It’s Moreau” he clambered for words, “it’s-he’s- he’s really, really ill and can’t breathe and his chest hurts a lot- over his heart, I think, I don’t know-“ he rushed out far too quickly for Henry to understand but Alex picked up every word.
“Is he on the phone?” Alex asked, Romeo nodded and he took the device, beginning to stride out the room. Romeo followed close, Henry dismissed themselves from the artist before hurrying after them.
“Moreau? Are you there?” Alex said into the phone, covering his other ear as people began to murmur.
“Alex!” He cried, sending a spike of fear down his chest. “I can’t-I can’t breathe” he forced out, terror slipping into his tone. “And my chest- it hurts so bad. It won’t stop. Please- I don’t know- please help”
“Moreau, calm down. Where are you?”
“In- school bathroom. I- I threw up” he explained shakily, gasping in sharply.
“Alright” Alex opened the doors to the gallery and jogged out, leaning on a wall in the empty hallway. Romeo watched on, tears in his eyes as Henry wrapped him in a hug from behind. “Press a hand over your chest and take deep breaths, can you do that?” He ordered.
“Yes” he said, audibly taking deep breaths. He wasn’t having a panic attack, Alex realised, which meant it must’ve been something else. “Feel how high your chest is rising? You’re breathing, Moreau. It might not feel like it, but you are” he said, keeping his voice steady as he brought out his own phone, shooting a text to June.
« Alex: you there? It’s urgent
“Y-yeah, I can, I can feel it” he agreed, continually breathing in and out.
“Can you explain any other symptoms to me?” Alex requested.
» June: What’s wrong?
« Alex: Moreau’s in a bad state. Can you pick him up from his school? Same school as Romeo’s
“My-my chest hurts. It’s my heart. I feel like I’m getting stabbed” he explained, voice quick. “And- I’m so ill. Everything hurts. It’s too-much” he spoke as if every word was a huge effort to produce.
“Alright, niño, focus on breathing” Alex soothed.
» June: I can try. What about his parents?
« Alex: his mother is a pile of shit who couldn’t care if he was dying
« Alex: he’s never mentioned a dad
» June: Fuck. Alright, I’ll do my best
« Alex: he’s in a bathroom, I can try and get him to the front desk
“Moreau?”
“Yes?” He whispered.
“Can you move?”
Alex heard some shifting and a slight groan, “yeah I-I think- I think so”
“Don’t push yourself. June’s coming to pick you up, alright? Remember June?” He said, slipping his phone into his pocket.
“I do. Your sister, right?” He breathed heavily, seemingly pushing himself to his feet, a distant flush of the chain filled his ear momentarily.
“Yes, she is. Try to move to the front desk. She’ll be there” he said calmly, even if his insides were tearing up. Henry had extracted his phone and began a call with the private jet pilot, requesting a flight back to New York immediately. Romeo stood in patient silence, his eyes huge with worry and borderline fear.
Alex kept murmuring gentle reassurances every time Moreau made a noise of pain and said he had to stop for a moment. He couldn’t imagine what sort of agony he was in and wished more than anything he didn’t go to this stupid gallery. They should’ve known from last night something was wrong. He cursed himself for it.
It was a terribly long time before Moreau finally reached the front desk. Alex heard him slump against the wood and a slight gasp from the receptionists.
“Oh, god. What’s happened? What’s wrong?” The receptionist's voice asked gently.
“I’m really sick,” Moreau said, “can I-can I sign out? Go home?” He requested.
“Yes, of course. Let me- of course. Let me phone your mother” the receptionist’s chair rolled away. Alex tightened his grip on the phone, the idea of Moreau’s mother could make him absolutely lose his mind right now.
“She probably won’t answer,” Moreau gasped, taking a moment to steady his breathing.
“I still need to call and leave a message” the receptionist explained, “do you have someone coming to collect you?”
“Yes” Moreau said, “my-... cousin” he lied, Alex was a little impressed, more so relieved he didn’t tell the truth.
“Alright” the receptionist said.
“How’re you holding up?” Alex asked. Moreau mumbled on a few words.
“I think it’s getting worse,” he admitted quietly. Alex rubbed the space between his eyes.
“Just keep yourself up until you find June” he requested, pulling out his phone after it buzzed.
» June: I’m outside
« Alex: Wait there, he’s coming to you. And if asked, you’re his cousin
» June: Wonderful, how illegal is this?
Alex grimaced mildly.
« Alex: I’ll tell you later
“Sign out on this clipboard here” the receptionist must’ve handed something over to him, Moreau’s breathing was the only thing audible for the next few moments. “Perfect, is your cousin here yet?”
“Yes,” Alex said.
“Yes,” Moreau repeated.
“Great. I’ll just need to see them to confirm...” The receptionist’s shoes hitting wooden floorboards followed Moreau as he must’ve headed to the front door. Alex fidgeted nervously, he couldn’t stand still and began pacing back and forth.
“She’s there,” Moreau said.
“Perfect. Will you be alright?” The receptionist asked gently.
“Fine. Thank you” Moreau said through gritted teeth, as if trying to hold something back. Alex listened to the gentle wind brushing against the phone as Moreau must’ve stepped outside and began heading over to June.
“Moreau” June’s voice came, Alex felt relief flooding his system.
“He’s with June” he informed the other two who let their tense shoulders drop.
“Moreau, shit, come here” she soothed, opening up the car door. Moreau shuffled inside.
“Are you on the phone with Alex?”
“Yeah...”
“May I?” She requested. Moreau agreed and handed over the device, she shut the door, the sound of her high heels hurrying over concrete as she rushed to the other side.
“Alex, he looks horrible” she breathed.
“Fuck. How bad?”
“Really fucking bad. I’m taking him to the hospital” she said, opening her door and slamming it shut.
“Alright. Call us back when you get an update. We’ll be over as fast as we can” Alex said, even if he knew the last thing he wanted to do was cut off contact, he needed Moreau to focus on himself and June on the road.
“I will. Stay safe” with that the call ended and Alex handed Romeo the phone.
“What’s happening?” He fretted. Henry soothed a hand through his hair.
“He’s... bad” Alex admitted, “June’s taking him to hospital”
Romeo made a cry of fright, leaning further into Henry. “No-but, what? He was fine yesterday!”
“He’ll be okay,” Henry bent down, kissing Romeo’s forehead. “He’ll be fine. It can’t be anything serious. It’s most likely the flu, look at me” Henry urged, cupping his son's face. “He’ll be fine. We’re catching a flight in the next hour and we’ll be with him shortly, I promise” he said so confidently even Alex felt a little reassured.
Romeo sniffled and nodded, not letting go of his dad’s hand the entire time as they left the building and slid into a black SUV, taking them directly to the airport. Their belongings were being taken care of by others, they simply didn’t have the time. Matter of fact, they weren’t even thinking about it.
All they were thinking about was Moreau.
Even if the flight was only an hour and a half, to Romeo, it felt like a lifetime. He sat beside his dads, biting his lip, constantly running a hand through his hair to try and ease some of the stress building in his stomach.
It wasn’t working. He was scared, and above that, he was angry. He knew this had something to do with Moreau’s mother; it had to. In some way or another she was forcing him to neglect his health, with the constant overworking and apparent lack of food in his body, his immune system must’ve taken a hit.
He caught something, and now was suffering terribly for it. He just hoped they’d get there before his mother did.
Whenever he glanced at his parents he could tell they felt the same way. Henry could keep himself composed enough, but the pinch in his lip and the way his familiar light blue eyes had darkened, Romeo didn’t need to ask to know he was thinking about who did this to Moreau.
Alex was a bit more obvious, across his face were creased frown lines and his leg wouldn’t stop bouncing up and down. Every so often he’d check the time, look out the window and tensely tap his fingers against the arm rest.
They were all in some way or another thinking about her.
Once the plane had landed there was a car awaiting their arrival, hurriedly they crossed over the strip of tarmac to the vehicle, Alex slid into the front passenger seat while Henry and Romeo clambered into the back, once the doors were shut and everyone was buckled in the driver began the paced manoeuvre out of the parking lot and the speedy, light-traffic filled route to the hospital.
“Will he be okay?” Romeo dared to ask amongst the weighty, overbearing silence.
Henry shifted an arm around his shoulders, “I’m sure of it” he said evenly, “try not to panic, love, it’s just a bad stomach bug”
Romeo nodded, not quite trusting his voice right now as tears began filling his waterline. He couldn’t help it - remembering Moreau’s voice, stricken with fear once answering the phone, it terrified him, and now imagining him in a hospital bed, possibly wired up, all alone other than June to comfort him.
His stomach stirred painfully. He just wanted to hold him.
And never allow his mother around him again.
They parked outside the front doors of the hospital twenty minutes later, a few people glanced over at the sight of a black car with tinted windows drawing up. To see Alex, Henry and Romeo pile out of it was shocking, and everyone ogled at them as they hurried inside of the building, deftly ignoring civilians in their path.
At reception, the woman sitting down did a double take, jaw slacking a little once she realised she was in the presence of a Prince, but shook herself out of it and poised herself seconds later.
“Hello, sirs, how can I help you?” She asked, pressing her fingers against her keyboard in preparation.
“We’re here to see a patient. Moreau Winters? He was admitted here two hours ago” he answered, Henry squeezed Romeo’s shoulder as he spoke.
“Alright...” the receptionist typed away at the computer, clicking onto a file and squinting at the screen. “Yep. May I ask what your relations with him are?”
“I’m his girlfriend” Romeo answered, “we’re not related. But we can still see him, right?” He asked nervously.
The receptionist nodded, “yes, he’s not in immediate care right now and taking visitors. He’s on the second floor, room four ‘B’, I’ll send his doctor in as well in case you need an in-depth report on his condition. Go on down there, the elevator’s hard to miss” she gestured down a corridor, Henry and Alex thanked her before hurrying down the corridor Romeo booked it to.
The elevator, as she promised, was easily noticeable and they all stepped inside. Romeo clicked the second floor button more times than necessary but he was itching with anticipation to see him.
The fact he wasn’t in immediate care was enough to soothe his nerves quite a bit, but he still felt sick with dread.
Alex bent down and kissed the roof of Romeo’s head, “are you alright, sweetheart?”
Romeo leaned into him, nodding wordlessly. Alex peered at Henry who frowned, crossing his arms over his chest. They didn’t communicate, simply gazed down at their son who was lightly shaking where he stood.
Once the doors slid open Romeo darted out, scanning the plaques on the doors until they reached four ‘B’, with an air of desperation he forced open the door. June, who was sitting beside the window reading a magazine flinched up, breathing out a sigh of relief when she saw everyone.
“Thank god” she said, rushing over and briefly hugging Alex. Romeo was at Moreau’s side instantly, he might’ve teleported, no one could really tell.
“Is he alright?” Henry was the first to ask, they all migrated towards the bed, looking at Moreau, sweet Moreau, sleeping peacefully with a breathing mask over his mouth.
“He’s fine, exhausted but fine,” June assured, “he couldn’t breathe very well when he first arrived, the mask is just a precaution” she added.
Romeo gently encased Moreau’s hand in his own, tears slicing down his cheeks as he kissed his forehead, sniffling. Seconds later a tall, bulging doctor walked into the room, with long grey hair in a ponytail, and bright green eyes shocked at the sight of Henry and Alex.
“Ah-uh-oh” he hesitated with an oddly danish accent. “Hello” he found himself, clutching a clipboard closer to his protruding stomach. “I wasn’t expecting- I thought you would be his mother” he explained, awkwardly clearing his throat and nudging at his nose with a finger before padding over to them.
“Are you...?”
“Family friend. What’s wrong with him?” Alex pressed.
The doctor pushed his lips together, visibly intimidated but desperately trying to keep composed to do his job.
“He has the flu. Caught with a weakened immune system due to obvious signs of fatigue and lack of nutrients in his diet” he cleared his throat again, eyes flickering towards Moreau. “In fact, it seems his diet is lacking... food, in general” he said gravely, Henry and Alex glanced at each other, June noticed they shared a silent communication. She made a mental note to ask later.
“Some serious complications can be triggered by the flu, although not commonly, however Moreau here has an issue called myocarditis. It’s nothing to worry about, very mild in his case” he assured, waving his hand a bit. “It’s an inflammation of the heart, with some anti-inflammatory medicine he’ll be fine in a few days. But, it’s always safer to keep patients with such a condition in hospital until the inflammation has gone down, the heart is very delicate, you see” he explained, flickering his gaze only briefly towards the adults as he was still quite nervous in their presence.
“And that’s it. We’ve tried to get in contact with his mother but she’s not answering. Have you any idea where she is...?” He trailed off.
Alex frowned deeply, “no” he said, seemingly answering for them all.
Henry nodded in agreement.
The doctor clutched the clipboard tighter, “right. Well. I’ll leave you to it. He should be awake soon” he smiled towards Romeo before turning and hurrying out the room, pulling the door shut.
“That fucking—“ Alex hissed a few curses in Spanish, pacing across the room.
“What’s going on?” June asked, crossing her arms.
With Alex preoccupied, Henry responded.
“It’s his mother,” he explained sadly, “she’s terribly neglectful. Moreau visited our home the night before our flight to Washington and practically swallowed a pizza whole. We’re assuming she’s mistreating him at home, especially regarding food and how much he has eaten” he said, looking over at Moreau and feeling his heart twist in his chest. It was a painful sight and he wished he could do something more, but unless Moreau insists to move out (which unfortunately neither he nor Alex could see him doing), he’ll continue to suffer under her guardianship.
“God,” June frowned, “that’s horrible. Has he spoken to you about this? I know you’re all close...”
Henry shook his head, “he doesn’t talk about his home life. We know all we do through Romeo. Apparently she’s always been rather... bad, but recently it’s become worse. We’ve offered our home repeatedly but...” he sighed, “I think he can’t grasp the idea of losing another parent”
“His father...?” June trailed off.
“We don’t know,” Henry murmured. She looked towards Moreau, pain written across her face.
“I had no idea. He’s such a strong boy”
“He is” Henry agreed, “but I don’t think it’s wise to force him to leave”
Alex stopped his pacing at that, turning to his husband. “Why not? He can’t keep living with her” he said, as if that fact alone was obvious.
“I know” Henry turned to him, “but unless he wants to leave he’ll be miserable wherever we place him. It’s hard losing a parent, Alex. I couldn’t imagine losing both of mine at such a young age” he said, briefly thinking about his father and the deep, lingering pain he still senses in odd places throughout the year.
“But if he stays with her...” Alex paused, lost for words. “If he stays with her then...”
“I know,” Henry said again, walking up next to his husband and drawing him into a hug. “I know. All we can do is offer our home and support him every way we can” he went on. Alex sighed and pressed his face into his shoulder.
Romeo hadn’t heard much of the conversation, only listened when the doctor was there. He was still worried, extremely so, but he would admit he was definitely much more relaxed than he was on the journey over.
Being able to see Moreau and hold his hand was enough to calm his jittering anxiety, if he was honest.
As a few minutes slowly passed Romeo watched Moreau’s face as signs of life began flickering. His eyelids fluttered and the side of his mouth pushed down. His fingers wriggled until realising someone was holding his hand. He knew who’s it was. He squeezed Romeo’s hand, resulting in him breathing out a laugh.
Everyone glanced over, spotting Moreau’s head falling to the side, eyes peeling open to stare at Romeo.
“Hey” Romeo whispered, pressing his lips against his knuckles.
Moreau’s response came muffled, he furrowed his eyebrows and felt at the mask over his head, lifting it off of himself.
“Wait- should you-“ Romeo stammered.
“I’m fine,” Moreau promised, “hi. I missed you”
Romeo found his grin again, shuffling closer. “I missed you too, babe”
“You gave us all a fucking heart attack” Alex piped up, walking over to him with crossed arms and an eyebrow raise. Moreau slowly looked up at him, visibly still tired.
“Alex...” he croaked, “can I tell you something I found out...?”
“What?” Alex asked, amused.
“Your sister is better than you” he managed, Henry and June laughed as Alex squawked in indignation, mock-glaring towards his sister.
“Last time I fly across a country to check in on you” Alex huffed, shaking his head over-dramatically. Romeo giggled at the exchange, quietly thanking Henry who brought him a chair to sit down on.
“Feeling better?” Alex then asked, voice softer. Moreau nodded.
“Good. I still don’t like you” Alex insisted, turning on his heel and crossing the room. Moreau laughed, rolling his head back to stare at Romeo, noticing Henry hovering behind him, gently carding a hand through his hair.
“Thank you for coming,” he said appreciatively.
“Of course!” Romeo smiled, “we’ll care for you until you get better” he promised, Moreau smiled lovingly, squeezing Romeo’s hand once more before his eyes slowly slid shut and he fell into a blissful slumber once again.
“Poor kid” Alex sighed.
June corked an eyebrow, “he’s growing on you, then?”
Alex scowled, “he’s lucky I’m even here”
“Unlucky” June corrected. Alex, with the maturity of a man in his forties, stuck his tongue out at her.
“You’re a child,” June remarked rudely.
“And you’re annoying” Alex bit back.
June rolled her eyes, “how will I ever recover” she deadpanned.
Henry chuckled, looking away from the bickering siblings down at Romeo who was frowning, gently trailing his finger over Moreau’s arm. Henry squatted down beside him, head tilted.
“What’s wrong, love?”
Romeo sniffled, “I just-“ he breathed, “I just want him to be okay”
Henry kissed his cheek gently, wrangling a small smile out of him. “He will be. We’ll do everything we can, you know Alex adores him. He’ll pull out some sort of lawsuit out of his arse to get Moreau in our care when he wants to be. Until then, keep inviting him over. You know he’ll never say no when you do” he spoke reassuringly, urging him on until he was leaning on his shoulder.
“You won’t mind...?” Romeo whispered.
“Not at all. You have a double bed after all, don’t you?” He reminded, gently brushing some of Romeo’s hair back.
He lifted his head, startled. “Wait- he can... he can stay in my room?” He asked, excitedly.
Henry grinned, “yes. He can”
Romeo made an exclamation of joy, throwing his arms around Henry and hugging him tightly. “Thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you!” He gushed repeatedly, Henry laughed and picked him up, twirling him around in the air.
“Oh, god” Alex noticed, “what did you promise to?”
“No more couch bed. They can share a room” Henry answered, putting Romeo back down. He gravitated towards Moreau.
Alex pulled a face, “alright, fine. But Ellen’s giving the PowerPoint presentation of the birds and the bees. If I had to endure it, he does to” he pointed menacingly towards Romeo who beamed.
“I don’t care. I just- we can share a room!” He squealed, rocking back and forth.
Henry smiled at his husband, he rolled his eyes fondly.
Amongst the bitter situation, the sudden beam of positivity was greatly welcomed.
• ———— •
𝒈𝒐𝒐𝒅𝒃𝒚𝒆