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Alex holds the front door open and hovers nervously while Henry hobbles in on his crutches. He takes the little bag of Henry’s belongings from the PPO and politely ushers her out the door.
Visibly exhausted, Henry falls sideways onto the sofa. David immediately scrambles up and plunks himself in Henry’s lap. He sniffs curiously at the cast that covers most of Henry’s right leg.
Alex disappears into the kitchen and returns with water and a pill bottle. He pulls his glasses from his pocket and reads the label. “Okay, you need to take two of these now and two more in eight hours so…” Alex hands the water and pills to Henry and pulls his phone from his back pocket. “I’ll set an alarm.” He scans the room and then runs upstairs. He comes back holding a pillow from their bed, which he drops onto the coffee table. “You can put your foot up here, if you want.”
Henry sighs and rubs his hand over his face, watching Alex help him hoist his foot onto the pillow. “Alex, please sit down and stop fussing.” He swallows the pills with a gulp of water and tosses the plastic vial back toward the coffee table. It lands on its side and rolls around a bit, but doesn't roll off.
“Stop fussing, he says,” Alex repeats mockingly as he carefully sits down at Henry’s side. He rubs David’s head. “Did you hear him, David? He wants me to stop fussing. Who’s gonna take care of him, huh? You?”
David whimpers and wags his tail, eager to please but lacking opposable thumbs.
Alex looks up into Henry’s face smugly. “Yeah, that’s what I thought.” But he does finally seem to relax, like someone cut the string of tension that’s been holding him upright for the last 24 hours. He sags into Henry’s space and lets his head fall onto Henry’s shoulder. He grabs Henry’s hand and presses a kiss to his knuckles.
“You smell like the hospital.”
“Mmm,” Henry murmurs. “Christ, I’d kill for a shower.”
“Nope, the nurse said it’s sponge baths for you from Nurse Alex. Sexy, huh?” Alex tries to leer but he’s too tired to put any real effort into it. He runs a hand up and down Henry’s bare leg, then rubs the hem of his shorts between two fingers. With a sudden jolt, Alex snaps back into action. “You need anything, baby? You hungry?” He jumps back up and heads for the kitchen. “Shit, you’re supposed to eat with your meds.”
“Alex, I don’t want–” but Alex is already back, juggling a package of crackers and some Jaffa cakes. “Here, eat something. Do you want something else? I can get–”
“No, Alex, stop, please, love. I don’t want you to have to take care of me. It’s a broken leg, I’m not some sort of elderly invalid.” Henry crosses his arms and sighs heavily. “I really hate this.”
Alex leans over and brushes a hand through Henry’s hair. His fingers drift down to Henry’s shoulder, kneading the tense muscles there. “I know, I hate it too. But it’s just gonna be for a few weeks and–”
“Just a few weeks?” Henry snaps. “Weeks of not being able to do things for myself and having to rely on other people for the most basic things. Not being able to go where I want or do what I want and…” He runs out of steam and flings his head back into the sofa cushions. When he does, his foot slides off the pillow and a jolt of pain shoots up his leg. “Ow. Dammit.” David whimpers again. “Get down, boy,” Henry says, gently moving the dog from his lap. He reaches for the crutches leaning against the arm of the sofa and awkwardly levers himself up to standing.
“Where are you going?” Alex asks, mild panic coloring his voice.
Henry feels something ugly rear up inside him. Every bit of resentment he felt while he was lying in a hospital bed coalesces inside him and flies out of his mouth like a laser-focused weapon. “To the fucking bathroom, Alex, if that’s alright with you. I think I can do that without help.”
Alex is left standing in the middle of the room, stunned into rare silence.
When Henry comes back out of the bathroom, he looks embarrassed and contrite. “Alex, I’m sorry I snapped at you. I’m just not a very good patient.”
Alex nods and smiles at him, but there’s that underlying sadness there again that Henry can’t quite understand, that’s been there since he got injured. “So I’ve noticed. And it’s okay,” Alex says. “I know this is frustrating for you. You were just trying to do a good thing.”
Henry just nods, glad Alex always understands him. He had participated in another celebrity polo match for charity and the horse he was assigned was a little jumpy for the game. Apparently it belonged to some rich guy who wanted to brag about a prince riding his horse. Something caused it to buck in the middle of the match and Henry was tossed off, breaking his leg. Henry had spent a full day in the hospital after his surgery, offended and furious at news headlines that declared he “fell” from his horse.
The whole time he was in the hospital, Alex had an odd, sad look on his face. Henry had been too irritable to work out why, it was just a broken leg. He assumed Alex was tired and ready for them both to go home, to get away from the doctors and nurses and overly protective staff his grandmother sent.
“I’m going to go lie down for a bit,” Henry says, heading for the stairs.
Alex jumps up, immediately tense again. “No, you’re not.”
Henry stops at the bottom of the stairs and leans heavily on the crutches. “Alex, what–”
Alex plants his hands on his hips. “You can’t get up those stairs without falling and breaking something else, or breaking that leg again. They’re too narrow for me to help you and even if you got up there, you’d never get back down again without breaking your fucking neck.” He shrugs his shoulders. “You’re just gonna have to sleep on the couch for a while.”
“No, I’m not.” But even as he argues, Henry realizes Alex is right. The old, narrow, slightly wonky staircase that they loved when they first saw this place, the quirk that gave the house character, suddenly seems like a recipe for disaster. Henry drops his head in defeat.
“I…fuck. Fine.” Henry tripods his way across the room and flops back onto the sofa.
“It’s not that bad,” Alex says quietly, grinning at Henry like he’s humoring a small child. “At least the sofa is pretty comfortable.”
Henry glares at him. “I don’t want to sleep here, Alex.”
“I know, baby,” Alex says softly.
Henry crosses his arms and lies down awkwardly, resting his head on the arm of the sofa. Alex smiles at him, sits down carefully on the edge of the cushion and brushes Henry’s hair off his forehead.
Henry closes his eyes, frustrated again at the entire ridiculous situation. “This is the worst possible thing that could have happened,” he says. When he looks back at Alex, his face looks… different, sad, but also closed off. Almost angry.
Alex stands up robotically and heads for the stairs. Henry immediately feels the loss.
“Where are you going?” Henry asks, exasperated.
“To get you some sheets and another pillow,” Alex calls back. Henry thinks he can hear the tears clogging Alex’s throat, but can’t for the life of him figure out why.
When Alex comes back downstairs, his eyes are definitely red.
“Alex, darling, what–” He tries to sit up but he can’t get any leverage.
Alex tosses the pillow onto one end of the sofa and flings the sheets at Henry’s feet. His hands are at his sides, curled into fists. He’s quiet for longer than usual, and Henry knows he’s fucked something up.
Alex opens his mouth a few times before he can finally get the words out. They come slowly, forcefully, riding the edge of fury. “Henry, when you went flying off that horse and you hit the ground, you didn’t move .” He bites his lip, clearly trying not to start crying again. “You did. Not. Move, Wales.” He swallows hard. “For… it felt like forever.”
Henry starts to say that was just when he had the wind knocked out of him, but Alex points at him with one finger in silent warning. “I couldn’t get on to the fucking field and I couldn’t see you, because there were so many people and horses around you.” Alex’s eyes dart around like he’s back there again, watching the frantic activity on the polo field. “You didn’t move, and all I could think was how I was supposed to go on if you weren’t…”
Alex’s voice cracks and he clears his throat. “And then, and then, you sat up. I was running across the field and I saw you sit up just a little before they made you lay back down. And I thought, okay, he’s alive, but what if….” He swipes at his eyes with the back of his hand. “And I thought, it’s okay, we can manage, if Henry can’t walk, we can manage, because,” his voice broke, “because at least he’s alive.”
Henry aches to take Alex in his arms but he can’t get up easily from the position he’s in. He wants to reach out but he isn’t sure he can push through Alex’s anger. He isn’t sure he deserves to.
Alex takes a stuttering breath so deep it sounds almost painful. When his eyes finally meet Henry’s, they’re so sad and hurt that Henry feels his heart constrict. “So, I’m gonna need you to shut the fuck up with your whining and your complaining and ‘this is the worst thing that could ever happen to me,’ because I promise you, baby, it’s not.”
Pivoting on one foot, Alex turns and stomps up the stairs. The stupid, narrow, character-filled, precarious stairs. Henry watches him leave, taking Henry’s heart with him.
Henry stares for a minute, unable to chase after him. There might as well be three thousand miles between them again. He finally lays down, pulling the blankets over himself at an odd angle. They catch on the cast and he can’t reach down far enough to straighten them out.
“Fuck.”
David jumps onto the arm of the sofa and tilts his head sympathetically at Henry.
Henry shakes his head and snaps his fingers softly, coaxing David closer. “No, it’s okay. I deserved all of that.”
Henry reaches into his pocket and pulls out his phone, but drops it onto the floor before he can manage to even try to send an apologetic text to Alex. It bounces on its corner and lands just out of his reach. He sighs and looks back at David.
“Fuck.”
*******************************************
Henry’s brain feels foggy and he can’t understand why his leg hurts so damn much. He pries his eyes open and stares into the darkness. He has a moment of complete disorientation, only knowing that he’s not in the palace and he’s not in their bedroom, not staring at the familiar cracks in the ceiling above his side of the bed.
He finally wakes up enough to remember where he is and why, which unfortunately also reminds him that he was a complete dick to his boyfriend. He has no idea what time it is. He remembers that Alex set an alarm for Henry to take his medication, but Alex is probably snugly asleep in their bed. Henry doesn’t even blame him.
He really was a dick. A pompous, entitled, self-centered, dick.
There’s an empty echo in his heart, an echo of loneliness, all too familiar and too recent. He’s always had this fear that their life together was too good to be true. Please tell me I didn’t fuck this up.
Henry looks over at the coffee table, hoping his medication might have rolled within his reach. To his surprise, the amber bottle is at the edge of the table, right next to a bottle of water. His phone is next to the water, resting on a wireless charger, also easily within reach. He’s properly tucked in with a sheet and a blanket that wasn’t there when he fell asleep, and his foot is elevated on two stacked pillows.
He reaches for the pills, or tries to, but his hand seems to be connected to something on the floor. He wonders if maybe he’s not really awake yet and is in the middle of some bizarre, drug-induced dream. He tries to tug his hand out of its trap but it doesn’t budge. He manages to roll onto one shoulder and looks down to find a sleeping Alex, adorably curled up on the floor in a nest of blankets, clutching Henry’s hand tightly in his own.
He shakes his head, hoping that if he is dreaming, he’ll never wake up.
Just as he’s about to gently slide his hand out of Alex’s grasp, the alarm goes off. Alex sits up so fast he almost clocks Henry in the jaw.
“Jesus,” Alex gasps, looking around, obviously disoriented. His hair is even more wondrous than usual.
“Hi, love,” Henry says quietly. “That’s the alarm you set for me, remember?”
Alex nods, still catching his breath. He clumsily hands Henry the pill container and the water, then tries to caress Henry’s cheek with an uncoordinated hand. “You feel okay?”
Henry rocks his head back and forth in response. “The medication is just starting to wear off.” He scoops two pills into his mouth and swallows them with a swig of water.
Alex nods and puts everything back on the table. He picks up his phone again and sets another alarm.
“Alex, I’m sorry. I should never have–”
Alex swings around and sits up on his knees. He leans down and drops a kiss on Henry’s forehead. “Shut up, I’m not mad at you.” His voice is soft and familiar, wrapping around Henry in the darkness. “I was just scared, babe. I’ve been scared since…” he waves a hand toward Henry’s cast.
Henry sees that unguarded look in Alex’s eyes and gets angry at himself for missing it all this time. It’s a look Alex doesn’t let everyone see. Henry usually remembers that Alex is more vulnerable than most people realize, a little less tough than he lets on. That sometimes his loud, brash exterior hides the fact that he’s feeling shaky inside and needs someone to hold him together while he falls apart.
Henry always wants to be the one to do that, the one who gets to do that.
Gently, Henry rakes his fingers through Alex’s hair. He rests his hand on the nape of Alex’s neck and says what he should have said two days ago.
“Darling, I’m alright.”
The tears immediately pool in Alex’s eyes. “I know.” Alex finally, completely, lets himself fall apart. He clutches at a handful of Henry’s t-shirt, presses his face into Henry’s chest and sobs. Henry does his best to pull Alex to him, to wrap him in his arms and give him a safe place to fall.
When Alex’s sobs turn into sniffling, Henry whispers,“I’m sorry you were frightened, and I’m sorry I didn’t notice.” He trails a finger down Alex’s face and tilts Alex’s chin up. ”I’m still getting used to having someone worry about me who isn’t on the staff.”
Alex laughs through his tears, and pulls his own t-shirt up to wipe his face. “Well, you’re gonna have to get used to it, baby. I’m not going anywhere.” He takes Henry’s hand and plays with his fingers. “And you don’t have to apologize. I shouldn’t have yelled at you, either.”
Henry cradles Alex’s face in his hand. “No, I do owe you an apology, love. I should’ve thought about your feelings but I was so wrapped up in feeling sorry for myself,” Henry whispers, in a voice as soft as the grey darkness blanketing the room. “I don’t want to lose you," he says, the words blending together in an anxious rush.
“You won’t,” Alex assures him, taking Henry’s palm and pressing it to his own cheek. “I didn’t want to lose you either.” He weaves their fingers together. “You know, I don’t think I really believed you were okay until we got home.”
Something about the way Alex says ‘home’ takes Henry back to election night, to the look Alex gave him when Henry first told him they had a home of their own. When they stood there, wrapped in each other’s arms, speechless among the screaming and crying and loud music and confetti. When they’d realized they could have forever.
“I’m sorry I got angry about the sofa, I just…” Henry rolls his eyes, knowing he’s being ridiculous and not caring. “Look, I know it’s stupid, I just, I want to sleep in our bed.” He takes a deep breath. “I want to sleep beside you.”
Alex smiles patiently. He kisses Henry on each eyelid, his nose, and finally on his lips. He runs his fingers over the scratchy stubble on Henry’s cheek. “That’s not stupid, sweetheart.” His voice is soft and patient and honest, the same voice that made Henry believe it was possible to have everything they have now.
Henry rolls over enough to look down at Alex’s makeshift bed, then sighs and sinks back onto his pillows. “Alex, you can go upstairs and sleep in our bed. I don’t want you to feel, I mean, you don’t have to–”
Alex shakes his head and squeezes Henry’s hand in his. “That’s not…” Alex grins, “it’s…I don’t want to sleep without you, either, baby.” He leans down for another kiss. “Never again.”
This, the two of them whispering in the darkness, feels lovely and familiar. Sometimes, late at night, Henry will close his eyes while Alex goes on about whatever thoughts are bouncing around his brain, and it brings Henry back to when they used to talk on the phone half the night. The way Henry would burrow under his duvet and picture Alex lying right beside him in the dark. The way Alex would always keep his voice pitched low, so that Henry knew Alex was trying to help him fall asleep. It was… nice, then, having someone care about him that way. But he’d assumed that was all he would ever have.
Henry reaches up and combs his fingers through Alex’s curls. “Alex, remember how I told you I loved you from the day I met you?”
Alex nods. “Yeah, that sounds familiar, baby,” he says, with a glint in his eye.
With one fingertip, he traces circles on the soft skin behind Alex’s ear. “I was wrong, you know.”
Alex tilts his head, curious.
“I thought I loved you then,” Henry tells him. “But compared to what we have now…” Henry shakes his head in wonder as the truth of what he’s saying hits him. ”I had no idea.” He cradles Alex’s head in his palm. ”I had no idea what it meant to love you.” He looks around at all the ways Alex has taken care of him tonight. “And I certainly had no idea what it meant to be loved by you.”
Alex smiles and drops his head back onto Henry’s chest with a groan. He stays there for a minute, Henry’s hand gently stroking Alex’s untamed curls. After a while, Alex turns his head sideways to look over at Henry with a face that’s sweetly, wildly in love. “Goddammit, I’m never gonna be able to stay mad at you, am I?”
Henry can feel his meds kicking in, the heaviness in his eyelids making them droop. He’s awake enough to feel Alex lace their fingers together and lay back down on his improvised bed. Henry rubs his thumb over their joined hands and listens to the familiar rhythm of Alex breathing as he drifts back into sleep.
When he dreams, he’s biking through Austin in the inky night, with Alex at his side and fireworks lighting up the sky.
This time, though, the fireworks are only for them.