Archive of Our Own

Susie wasn’t a quiet person by any means, but even then, Henry didn’t usually hear her coming from that far away. But he knew the sound of her shoes, and it was just before lunch anyhow, so it was most definitely Susie literally running down the hall. The thudding of her heels became tellingly louder. 

Dropping his pencil with a sigh, Henry rubbed his forehead. He should’ve known it was too good to be true when he wasn’t ambushed the minute he set foot inside the studio. 

He turned around in his seat, ignoring the snickers of his fellow animators. They all knew who Susie’s target was. 

The wooden floorboards creaked in protest as Susie veritably skidded to a stop in the doorway to the room. There was a wild look in her eyes as she zeroed in on Henry like a lion to a gazelle. He somewhat regretted not trying to meet up with her over the holiday, if only to get this out of the way and not in public. 

“Where’s the fire, Miss Campbell?” Henry asked, deadpan. He’d give her nothing; she’d have to work for every scrap of the information she was after. 

“You, me, lunch. Now,” she barked, and the hunger she exuded was not for food. 

“How forward of you.” 

She pointed sinisterly at him. “We either have this conversation here or in the lounge.” 

Henry raised his eyebrows. It wasn’t that he was calling her bluff when he spun around and picked his pencil back up, it was just that Susie was fun to rile up. And his sense of humor had long consisted of this sort of straight-faced teasing. 

He could vividly picture steam pouring from her ears as she stomped closer. “I’m not joking, Henry! Having witnesses won’t stop this conversation from happening.” 

“By definition, a conversation requires two or more participants.” It was harder than usual to keep from smiling when he looked up at her, zipped his lips, and threw away the key. Pointedly, he turned back to his desk. 

Absolutely none of the other animators in the room were getting any work done, watching avidly and with much unsubtle laughter. Susie went from boiling to nuclear beside him, but Henry only placidly sketched out the background for a new scene. 

She didn’t get the chance to make good on her threat, though, because a second set of footsteps quickly approached from down the hall, though not nearly at the rapid speed Susie had bore down on them with. 

Henry glanced over his shoulder as Allison swung into the doorway with a breathless little laugh. “Henry!” she said in greeting, smiling. She sent a Look at Susie. 

Holding up his finger, Henry twisted all the way around and silently patted at his pockets before having a “lightbulb” moment. Reaching behind Susie’s ear like a magician, he pulled back and made a show of looking at his handful of nothing in impressed wonder. Several someones choked on their laughter. In the corner of his eye, he could see Connor nearly falling out of his chair in a bid to remain quiet in deference to Henry’s bit. 

Using the “key” he’d retrieved from behind Susie’s ear, Henry unlocked and unzipped his lips. “Good morning, Allison.” 

Another animator—Winnie, he was pretty sure—loudly whispered, “I can only dream of being capable of such pettiness someday.” 

Unable to stifle her own giggles, Allison asked, “Would you like to come eat lunch with us, Henry?” 

“I hate you so much,” Susie said, and it was unclear which of them she was talking to. Perhaps both.

“I’d be delighted,” he said, ignoring her. Standing with his lunch bag in hand, he affected a surprised expression. “Susie! I didn’t see you there. I was about to go have lunch. You can join us if you’d like.” 

“Run, man,” someone said. “Before she kills you.” 

“I was going to go easy on you,” Susie hissed, tightly winding their arms together. “But now…” 

Lowly, Henry whispered, “Don’t threaten me with a good time.” And he threw his devil’s grin in for good measure.

A shrill, indignant noise left her even as she flushed a bit. “It really is the quiet ones,” she muttered as they left the room. “Did you hear what he said?” she demanded of Allison as they reached her and headed down the hall. 

Hand failing to hide her smile, Allison nodded. “You’re fun to tease,” she admitted. 

“And I’m in a good mood,” Henry said. 

“So I’m the one doomed to suffer for that? Is my lot in life to be a mere vessel for someone else’s humor?”

“Ah. You were recoding for Violeta this morning.” Henry opened the door to their preferred lounge and followed the two ladies inside. Roe and Lana were already sitting at their table. 

Surprised, Susie glanced at him. “How’d you know?” 

“The character lingers,” he told her. “It’s true for anyone who gets into a character’s head; sometimes they end up in yours. You’re being more dramatic than normal.” 

“Than normal! Graciously ignoring that dig at me and Violeta,” Susie said with a mild glare, “who’s in your head that’s got you so cheeky this morning? I only saw background work on your desk.” 

He shrugged. “Just a personal project of my own. I was playing around with some character studies over the weekend.”

“Is that all you were doing over the weekend?” Susie asked slyly. Allison giggled.

“Yes,” he lied. “Why?” 

Susie and Allison both stared at him for a moment before looking at each other. “Do you see what I’ve been dealing with?” Susie said. “He’s been all ‘why would I have thought about Joey’s massive crush on me’ and ‘I’m not interested in dating,’ ugh.” 

At her exaggerated impression of him, Henry rolled his eyes to the heavens, begging for patience.

“I’m all caught up,” Allison told him with a little smile. She sat down between Roe and Susie, leaving Henry to sit between Susie and Penny’s currently empty spot. Opposite him, Roe nodded in greeting. “I was gone for barely a month and so much happened.” 

“You really should’ve been there for the party,” Lana said. “I was a little tipsy, I’ll admit, but woo. I won’t be forgetting that night anytime soon. Joey really went for it.”

Henry sighed and pulled his glasses off to rub at his eyes. Just because he’d known this was coming didn’t mean he had to be happy about it. 

“I’m here, I’m here!” Penny cried as she burst into the room. The few other employees at the scattered tables glanced up at her before going back to minding their own business—by which Henry meant they were sneaking highly conspicuous glances over in his direction. 

Practically throwing herself into her chair, Penny grinned. “Did I miss anything?” 

“You’re just in time, hon,” Susie said. She started poking Henry’s side; unfortunately for her, Henry had very few ticklish spots, and they didn’t exist anywhere on his torso. 

(Joey had been delighted to discover the skin behind Henry’s right ear was particularly sensitive and prone to making him laugh and scrunch up.)

“Now spill,” Susie demanded at the same time as Roe’s, “Give us the dirt, Henry.” 

Merely taking a bite of his room-temperature lasagna—his mother was probably shuddering somewhere right then; she’d always been appalled at him for rarely heating up his leftovers—Henry raised an expectant eyebrow. 

“Henry’s not a natural gossip,” Allison said, coming to his rescue. “You’ve gotta ask him real questions.” 

“Ooh, ooh, me first! I wasn’t at the party,” Penny nearly wailed. “But is it true that you and Joey left together? No one I asked could seem to give me the same answer.” 

Good to know the rumors had started already. He desperately hoped no one else tried to confirm anything with him. 

“You can blame the alcohol for the confusion, I'm sure,” Henry said. “But—yes.” 

Susie full-on screeched. 

“Scout’s honor?” Roe asked. “Because I distinctly recall seeing Joey come back in after a few minutes, so I figured he just walked you out.” 

The corners of Henry’s mouth twitched upward. “He forgot his coat. And keys. And wallet.” 

“After a kiss like that? Joey’s lucky he didn’t forget his head,” they said. 

“My gosh, Henry,” Lana said. “You sound fond. Actually properly fond.” 

“You do!” Allison cried, clapping her hands together. “Oh, that’s so sweet!” 

Susie managed a wordless squeak and started slapping his shoulder. 

“Did you go on a date? Maybe somewhere nice for a late Christmas Eve dinner?” Penny asked, sighing wistfully. She crossed her arms on the table and laid her head over top of them. “You’re so lucky, Henry, really.” 

He debated a moment. “Depends on how you define a date.” 

Before anyone could share their criteria for a date, Roe slapped the table. “Wait. Shut up. Shut up.” Delightfully scandalized, they accused him, “You did not go home with Joey Drew on Christmas Eve.” 

Susie wheezed. Allison went wide-eyed. A broad, open-mouthed smile overtook Lana’s expression. Penny turned her face into her arms and squealed. 

The involuntary grin that spread across his face was most definitely too self-satisfied. With an unconcerned shrug, Henry answered, “Guilty as charged.” 

Susie, who had not been capable of speech for several minutes now, merely slid down in her chair until she plopped to the floor. 

It took his table-mates a while to calm down after that, giving Henry the chance to actually enjoy his meal without having to pause every other bite to speak. 

“The real question,” Lana finally said, remembering the subject of their excited gossip was actually sitting at the table with them, “is are you two dating? Or was it just some fun between consenting adults?”

Henry considered his response as he slowly chewed through a bite of breadstick. Less because he didn’t know the answer and more because there were a lot of things he could say—and maybe wanted to—but wouldn’t. For several reasons, ranging from inappropriateness to it being none of their business to… well, some things Henry just wanted to keep for himself. 

Like that nothing had happened on Christmas Eve. Nothing like his coworkers were assuming, at least. They’d left the party barely after seven, and Joey’s offer to return to his home together had come with his near-frantic reassurance of no funny business. 

Henry mentioned he was hungry for something that wasn’t dessert, and half an hour later, they’d been bumping shoulders at the stove as they playfully argued over how to make the best grilled cheese. Forgoing the main lights in the living room, they’d eaten on the couch in the light of Joey’s modest Christmas tree, backs pressed to opposite ends with their socked feet tangling together in the middle

They’d talked for longer than Henry was willing to admit, and by the time they’d realized how late it was, Joey had insisted he stay over. They’d gone back and forth on who would take the couch before Joey had blurted out a suggestion to share his bed. 

Henry had laughed at the look of mortification on his face, then put Joey out of his misery by accepting the compromise. They’d both been mostly clothed and very tired, and they were asleep before any awkwardness even had the chance to form. 

So no. Nothing had happened on Christmas Eve. 

Christmas Day, however, was a very different story. 

Between the party, late night, and general morning zombie-ness, Henry had stumbled out of bed, more asleep than awake, grabbed the nearest shirt, and went on the hunt for coffee. Joey’s machine wasn’t too different from his own, and in short order, he had a pot brewing. 

A few sips in, he’d turned to find Joey standing motionless in the kitchen entrance, staring at him. Henry’s glasses helped with distance, but not even the lack of them that morning had kept him from seeing that familiar glow softening his eyes. And they carried that emotion Henry wasn’t willing—or perhaps ready—to name. 

Mildly more awake, Henry had realized he was wearing Joey’s button-up over his undershirt. Not that Joey seemed to mind. 

“I don’t know what I did to end up on Santa’s nice list this year,” Joey had half joked, though his voice had been just slightly too hoarse for it to land as anything other than interested, “but…” 

The way he trailed off had left Henry feeling confident.

“Who said anything about the nice list?” Henry had asked, eyes half-lidded, and he’d spare a minute to be shocked at his own boldness later. He was too busy being very aware of his lack of pants in that moment. 

Joey took a second to reboot. Once he did, Henry’d barely had time to set his borrowed mug aside before he was being pushed back against the counter. He went willingly.

But he wouldn’t tell them about any of that. Or about how the two of them had spent most of the break in each other’s company, switching between Joey’s house and Henry’s apartment. They’d only rarely gone out over the course of the week, both preferring the privacy and intimacy of staying in, and it—it’d been the most fun Henry had had with a potential partner in his life. 

And definitely not about how the “mostly clothed” part of sharing a bed only lasted that first night, really. 

“Dating. We got to know each other over the break. We work better than I would have initially expected,” he settled on. Getting to know each other was perhaps a bit of an understatement, considering how much they’d talked.

Roe nodded along, satisfied, but Allison leaned closer. “What about when you’re here? Will you pretend like you’re not together?” 

That was something they had actually discussed. “No,” Henry said and stopped there. He held back a grin at their impatient looks. 

“Just no?” Penny whined. 

“It’d be pointless, I think, after the party. So long as our work isn’t affected, I gave him free rein.” 

“Gutsy,” Roe said, whistling. “That doesn’t worry you? Joey can be…” 

“A lot,” Lana and Allison both finished.

Henry only smiled and finished his breadstick. If he’d learned anything over the holiday break, it was that he and Joey were well-matched where it mattered. Maybe beyond well-matched. Yeah. It’d been almost shocking how easily they’d clicked together. 

His coworkers exchanged unsure glances around him, minus Susie, who was still a puddle under the table. He couldn’t blame them. On the surface, Henry was incredibly reserved and Joey was incredibly open. In private—or rather, with people they were comfortable around—they both tended toward the middle-ground. So he wasn’t concerned about Joey being extravagant or obnoxiously overt about their new relationship.

Not that he expected Joey to be subtle either. The shirt incident had led to two particular revelations. One, Joey had a possessive streak. Nothing extreme. So far, it’d mostly revolved around physical or otherwise visible signs that Henry was taken. 

(You couldn’t have paid him to undo even just the top button of his shirt right now. Joey had respected Henry’s request to be able to cover any marks, and by respected, Henry meant Joey had apparently memorized exactly where Henry’s shirt collar ended.)

And two, Henry kinda liked that. The possessiveness. Joey had been very pleased; a few past partners had apparently found it overbearing. 

Henry didn’t know if that meant Joey was toning it down now. Or what it said about Henry if he wasn’t. 

But he was getting off track. Joey wasn’t subtle, and Henry wouldn’t demand he be anything other than himself. Which meant he’d be shocked if Joey left him alone all day, especially since this was everyone’s first day back to work in the new year. 

“He’s nothing I can’t handle,” Henry said, and Susie made a dying noise from below. 

Leaning down, Allison said, “Susie? Hon? I know you had questions you wanted to ask Henry, and it looks like he’ll be done eating soon.” 

“Have mercy on me,” Susie whined. “This turned out even better than my wildest dreams.” 

“You thought about it?” Henry wasn’t sure if he should be surprised. Susie had certainly been more invested than him in the beginning. 

She dragged herself out of the shadows and back up into her chair. “Yes. Of course.” But then she redeemed herself by adding, “You and Joey are my friends, and I want you both to be happy. It was obvious you’d make Joey happy, and if it was possible for that to go both ways, I didn’t want you to miss out on it.” 

Henry gave her a little smile, then sighed. “For the sake of positive reinforcement, I’ll answer three questions without complaint or cheekiness.” 

“I’ll take it!” Susie fist-pumped. “Firstly! It seems pretty obvious, but you can’t blame a girl for asking—are you happy? So far, at least?” 

Knocking their shoulders together, Henry simply said, “Very much so, yes.” 

She did a little wiggly dance, and the rest of them laughed. 

“That’s wonderful, Henry,” Allison added. “I’m happy for you, I really am.” 

“Jokes aside, I think we all are,” Roe agreed, toasting him with their coffee cup. 

“Second,” Susie said, “don’t think I didn’t notice you got out of answering Penny’s question. Did the two of you, at some point—so not just Christmas Eve—go on a date? Defined as just the two of you doing something together that you predetermined and that wasn’t necessarily something you’d do on an average day. And with the mutually agreed upon understanding that you weren’t just friends hanging out but had romantic intentions.” 

With that in mind, Henry nodded. “Yes, then. We went on a date.” 

“A date?” Lana asked. “Or dates plural?”

“Wait, wait, wait,” Penny said, waving her hands. “Date or not, did you see each other every day from the party to yesterday?”

“This is more than three questions.” 

Smacking his shoulder, Susie insisted, “They’re all practically the same question, and it was implied that you were answering three questions from me. So neither of those count anyway.” 

Henry tilted his head back and forth. “Fine, I’ll allow it. Yes, dates plural… and yes, every day.” 

They all positively whooped in excitement; he was just glad they hadn’t asked about every night. Susie settled down the fastest when she recognized his urge to flee the chaos. She hushed the others.

“Okay, third question.” Susie tapped her chin. Mischief brewed in her eyes.

“Choose wisely,” he warned her. He wouldn’t respond to anything inappropriate or overly personal. 

Likely realizing that, she turned serious. “Oh, all right. As much as I want to demand you tell me everything—”

“Absolutely not.” 

“—tell me the best part. Or your favorite, whichever.” She leaned her cheek in her hand, staring expectantly. The rest mimicked her.

Slouching back in his chair, Henry gave her a dirty look as he thought. His favorite part of the week. How did one choose such a thing? 

He definitely couldn’t say Christmas Day, not with how most of it had been spent in Joey’s bed, even though a large portion of that time had just been them talking or Joey tracing lines between the freckles on Henry’s back or them just existing together in peaceful silence. 

There weren’t a lot of people Henry could quietly exist with. Most found such silence awkward and wanted to fill it with endless chatter.

They’d taken turns sharing little-known facts about themselves and discovered they both knew how to play an instrument. Violin for Henry, and for Joey, despite his mother’s best attempts to get him to learn the piano or flute, the accordion. Which was kinda hilarious, and he’d promised to dig it out of whatever closet it was stuffed into and dust it off. 

Henry’s violin, on the other hand, was well-kept, and he messed around with it often. When they’d gone to Henry’s apartment the next day, he’d caved to Joey’s pleading and pretended like he didn’t have an audience while he played his favorite song. He’d never been one for attention the likes of which you got on a stage. 

But it was worth it for the look in Joey’s eyes when he’d dared peek at him. And for Joey’s enthusiastic admiration afterwards. His violin had made more than one reappearance that week.

They’d gone to a movie on Friday. Turned out, they had pretty different tastes in books and movies, but in such a way that it made talking about their preferences fun. Lunch afterward was at a hole-in-the-wall place Henry was a regular at. One of the older waitresses he’d known for several years at that point had been thrilled to meet Joey, and Henry hadn’t minded her cooing until she started telling stories about college-Henry. 

His real favorite, if he truly had to choose, was when they’d talked about stories. Henry had pulled out entire binders of old drawings and characters. It’d been a little nerve-wracking—sharing your work, especially when it was personal, often was—but Joey had been delighted to see his progress from being a child to a college student majoring in art and animation. 

And Joey, for all that he wasn’t an animator or writer, was very good at storytelling on a large scale. It complimented Henry’s preference for focusing on details and little moments. Those character studies Henry had mentioned really had happened; he just hadn’t done them alone.

But that night, when they’d been sitting on the carpet in his living room, surrounded by pages and pages of doodles and comics and reference sheets… that was for Henry. Not for sharing at a gossip table, not even with his friends.

“New Year’s Eve,” Henry decided, which was a close second anyway. “It was snowing, and with the lights they had in the trees at the park over on Holt… it was a very nice late-night walk.” He couldn’t help smiling a little just remembering it. 

“Did you kiss at midnight?” Penny asked as Susie nearly swooned her way back to the floor. 

Chuckling, Henry slyly admitted, “Neither of us knew when midnight was, but we gave it our best shot. I’m sure one of those kisses happened at or near enough to midnight.” 

“Good golly,” Lana said. “I’ll be honest, Henry, I didn’t think you had it in you.”

“You didn’t strike me as a romantic,” Roe agreed.

Henry squinted. “I wasn't trying to be.” 

Roe inhaled their coffee, and both Lana and Penny gaped at him.

“What do you mean, you weren't trying—” A funny noise left Allison. “Wait. Henry, at any point during the week, did you intentionally set out to be romantic?” 

“No. Why would I?” 

He really thought for a moment that Susie was about to strangle him. Though the sounds of disbelief punching out of her didn’t contain actual words, he got the gist of them. 

Shrugging, Henry explained, “It wouldn’t be me. I’d be playing a part that doesn’t accurately represent who I am naturally, which would negate the point of getting to know each other. Being romantic is fine, but if someone decides they only want to be with me because of how I am when I’m being romantic, then we’ll both just be miserable. I’d rather save acts of romance for later, after I know they like me as just Henry. And vice versa.” 

He didn’t add that the Joey they all knew best wasn’t the Joey who had caught his attention. But it was a good example of how people could be very different depending on the situation. Putting your best foot forward was all well and good until someone started constantly expecting that part of you. And like Joey had said on the night of the missing documents: people were disappointed when they realized he wasn’t “on” all the time, that it was an act. 

Henry didn’t want an act to be what drew someone’s attention to him. And it didn’t only apply to romance; he didn’t bother trying to make himself more appealing to people, even knowing his personality didn’t click with everyone. It meant the friends he did make knew and liked him for who he was—sarcasm, teasing, deadpan humor, occasional bluntness, and all.

“That… makes sense,” Allison said, nodding thoughtfully. “And it’s kind of sweet, in its own way.”

“And it’s much more in-character than you being a romantic. I agree, for the record,” Roe said. “Be yourself unapologetically. Anyone who doesn’t like that can beat it.” They huffed a laugh. “It does make it ironic, though, that my wife and I met in theater and were both playing characters at the time.” 

That got a good chuckle out of the rest of them.

When Henry glanced at Susie, wondering over her reaction to his opinion, he was mildly surprised. Rather than seeming disappointed over what could be interpreted as a lack of effort on his part, her eyes were positively sparkling.

“What?” he asked. 

“Just thinking that maybe we got it the wrong way around,” she said, giggling. “Forget you being lucky for getting Joey’s attention; if that’s just how you are without even trying to be romantic, Joey’s the lucky one.” 

“I couldn’t agree with you more, Susie!” 

Most of their table jumped in surprise at Joey’s sudden appearance, though Lana and Roe, who had clearly seen him coming, just looked satisfied. Feeling some déjà vu with Joey at his back, Henry sighed in mild exasperation, but even that couldn’t stop a small smile from forming.

“Mr. Drew!” Penny gasped, hand to her heart. 

“Careful, Joey, or we’ll start expecting you to visit every day,” Roe said. 

“Doubt he’d have a problem with that,” Lana whispered to them, “so long as we have Henry with us.”

Susie, cheeks a little pink, swatted at Joey. “You no-good eavesdropper! You’re not supposed to be here when we interrogate Henry about you!” 

Joey laughed, and Henry resolutely kept his face neutral as he stared at the remains of Roe’s lunch. “On the contrary, I think that’s the best time to eavesdrop! Shame I missed most of it.” 

“All good things, Mr. Drew,” Penny assured him. 

“But you won’t be getting any details from us,” Allison hastily added. “Henry’s our friend, and we wouldn’t betray his confidence.” 

Roe and Lana simultaneously zipped their mouths shut, and Henry couldn’t help but send Susie an impish smile. She stuck out her tongue at him.

Henry didn’t quite startle when Joey’s hands came down on his shoulders rather than his chair like he’d been expecting, though it was a close thing. And upon tilting his head back, he wasn’t surprised at all to find Joey leaning over him. 

Joey beamed. “Well, hello there, handsome. Come here often?”

“Apparently too often if you know where to find me.”

“I’ll always be able to find you,” Joey said lowly. A reasonable person might have taken that as a a joke or playful threat. 

Henry leaned his head to the side enough to gently bump Joey’s arm. “That a promise, Mr. Drew?” 

They stared at each other for long enough that, if it were anyone else at Henry’s table, they probably would have started to feel vaguely uncomfortable. But these nosey friends of his were more likely to be watching avidly. 

“Henry,” Joey asked quietly, not quite a whisper. “It seems like you might—that is, I would very much like to kiss you right now, and you seem like you might be amenable.” 

Cracking a grin, Henry asked expectantly, “What, did you think I was putting a crick in my neck for fun? Or do I need to start carrying mistletoe with me to avoid confusion?”

Eyes crinkling happily, Joey ducked down.

“Incredible,” Roe said, gleeful. “Henry’s exasperation hasn’t changed but it actually sounds like flirting now.” 

"Good flirting, too,” Lana added.

Susie frantically shushed them as Allison and Penny started giggling. Henry might have been smiling too much for a proper kiss, even an upside down one, but he didn’t think Joey cared. After all, he was smiling too. 

• • •

The rest of Henry’s day went normally. A few people sent him looks, but no one bothered him or started asking questions, so he’d consider it a win. He wrapped up at a reasonable time amidst a number of his coworkers. Allison caught his eye in the hall and waved on her way out. 

He was double-checking that he had all of his belongings in his bag—like many other animators, he brought some of his own tools that suited his personal preferences and refused to leave them behind where they might get snatched or mixed in amongst the studio’s supply—when a young redhead practically tripped up to his side. 

“You’re Henry, right?” he asked, flicking his cap brim up. Wayward curls stuck out in from beneath it. A bandaid laid over the bridge of his nose, with a second on the lower part of his right cheek. He was vaguely familiar, but not someone Henry had ever been introduced to. His stained overalls said he was probably part of either the often-messy art department or the cleaning crew. 

“Sure am,” he said with a little nod. “And you are?” 

“Wally Franks, mister. Mr. Drew asked me to find ya and point ya in the direction of his office.” 

Henry glanced down the hall. Conspiratorially, he whispered, “Think I’m in trouble?” 

Wally snickered and wiggled his hand in a so-so motion. Two fingers also bore frayed bandaids over the knuckles. “Feels like I’m tellin’ ya you’ve been called to the principal’s office. He was mutterin’ to himself, too, and there’s really no tellin’ what that means with Mr. Drew.” 

“In that case, wish me luck.” 

“Don’t think you’ll need it, mister, not if you’re that Henry.” 

Though not particularly surprised that his reputation, if it could be called that, preceded him, he said, “Oh?” 

Eyes going wide, like he hadn’t meant to say that, Wally adopted an expression that fell somewhere between a deer in the headlights and a kid who got caught with their hand in the cookie jar. “I don’t mean anythin’ by it, mister! Just—lots’a stories goin’ around, y’know? Well, you prob’ly don’t know, no one’d be tellin’ ’em to you, I guess. But everyone’s been goin’ on about the Christmas party and the mistletoe, and Mr. Drew’s been whistlin’ a lot today which he only does when he’s in a real good mood, mutterin’ to himself or not.” 

The kid barely paused for breath before he was moving on, and Henry was too amused to interrupt. “And I know it ain’t none’a my business but if it’s all true and you and Mr. Drew are seein’ each other now, I’m real glad for ya both ’cause Mr. Drew’s a good man and I think a lot of us want him to be happy’n all. He’s taken pretty big chances on a whole bunch’a us, and he’s been real kind to me, y’know, so we hope it works out. You’re serious about it, right? You’re not just playin’ around or somethin’ ’cause he’s the boss?”

Henry pressed his lips together to keep from laughing. This had to be the most entertaining shovel talk he’d ever been given. Extra points for the fact it was coming from a kid who barely looked to be out of high school, if that. 

But, oh, Wally wasn’t done yet. “And we all know things don’t always work out’n stuff, so we’re not expectin’ things to be perfect or nothin’, but honest, mister, Mr. Drew seems real into ya if the stories are true. So if you’re lookin’ for a raise or somethin’ by sleepin’ with him, that’s not gonna end well for anyone, y’know?” 

Henry nodded along as he finished, and no amount of will-power was keeping him straight-faced. Wally stared for a moment before his own words seemed to catch up to him, and he went bright red. 

Patting Wally on his shoulder, Henry said, “It speaks well to the kind of man Joey is that his employees would be ready to defend him like that. I’d rather not know if people are discussing my reasons for sleeping with him, though.” 

His voice much higher in pitch than it was a minute ago, Wally squeaked, “Of course not! I’m real sorry, mister, I didn’t mean to—”

“You’re all right, kid.” Henry tugged the newsboy’s cap down over Wally’s eyes, startling a laugh out of him. “Consider yourself successfully having sent me to the principal.” 

As Henry started off down the hallway, Wally called out, still audibly mortified, “Thanks for not losin’ your temper with me, mister!” 

Spinning around so he was walking backward, Henry grinned at him. “It’s just Henry, Wally.” 

Righting himself without missing a beat and heading onward, he could’ve sworn he heard Wally mutter, “Wow. I’d’ve fallen right over if I tried that.”

Chuckling, he finished the journey to Joey’s office and knocked on the door. 

He slipped inside as soon as Joey called out, closing it quietly behind him. Henry opened his mouth to greet him, but any words he intended to say were immediately lost to a loud burst of laughter. 

A sprig of mistletoe had been taped to the ceiling directly above Joey’s desk. 

Joey—who was in his chair but sitting in front of one of the side tables covered with file organizers, paperwork, and a few scattered knickknacks—twisted to look over at Henry so fast, his neck had to have cracked. His expression went from shocked to captivated. 

“Redecorating, I see,” Henry said, his smile wide. He titled his head at Joey as he pulled his messenger bag off and set it by one of the chairs in the little corner setup. “What’s that look for?”

He seemed speechless for a moment, finally rallying himself as Henry stepped closer. “Just… haven’t heard you laugh like that before.” 

Shrugging a little self-consciously, Henry replied, “Took me by surprise is all.” 

Joey said, earnest and low, “I will endeavor to surprise you more often, then. Every day, if I can.” 

The return of Henry’s smile almost caught him off guard. He wasn’t prone to flushing, but his cheeks did feel a little warm. “That’s quite a lofty goal, Mr. Drew.” He walked around Joey’s desk to the sitting side and carefully moved a few papers out of the center. “I wonder how you’ll accomplish it.” 

And he boosted himself up to sit on the edge, legs swinging beneath him into the kneehole. The mistletoe was directly overhead. Looking over at Joey, who was very flatteringly zeroed in on him, he waited.

He wasn’t disappointed. Without breaking eye contact, Joey pushed up out of his chair. He approached almost slowly, like he was in a trance. Henry slid his knees apart in an invitation that Joey gladly accepted. They were closer in height with the slight boost the desk offered, but Joey still had to lean down a little to be able to press his palms to the wood on either side of Henry’s hips. 

Thoroughly trapped and not the least bit mad about it, Henry set aside his glasses and swayed forward until their noses brushed. “I was surprised you managed to restrain yourself to only the one visit at lunch,” he said quietly. 

With a huff, Joey closed his eyes. “Not as surprised as I was. I didn’t want to distract you, though. I know you enjoy your work.” 

“I do.” 

A shaky little exhale left Joey. He laughed after it, helpless. “It doesn’t feel like only a week.” 

“It doesn’t,” Henry agreed. “But who cares about that? We probably went through the equivalent of half a dozen dates and a month of learning about each other during it.” 

“Regardless. You need to tell me if I go too quickly, or if it’s too much.” 

Smirking, Henry asked, “Do I seem like the type to suffer in silence?” 

Joey gently pressed their foreheads together, opening his eyes to watch Henry. “No. But I—I don’t want to scare you off. I know I can be… in the past…” 

They hadn’t talked overmuch about previous partners, though they hadn’t avoided the topic. Henry had only dated two people before, both in high school. Neither had been very serious and it was in the course of those two short relationships that he’d decided dating causally didn’t interest him. He’d gone on one first date after that, in college, but they’d both agreed they worked better as friends afterward. Companionship, while nice, wasn’t something he’d ever felt a real need to pursue.

Though he hadn’t shared a specific number, Joey had had more past partners. He’d admitted most of those relationships had been ended by the other person, ranging in reasons from disappointment that Joey wasn’t as much of a partier as they’d expected to finding his possessiveness disagreeable to deciding that Joey was getting too serious about a relationship that was “supposed to be fun.” 

Henry hummed. “I’m not one to cut and run at the first sign of something I don’t like. If I have a problem, I’ll talk to you about it. I hope you’ll do the same.” 

“Of course.” One of Joey’s hands lifted to rest on Henry’s back. “I don’t want to overwhelm you, Henry. I—I’m invested. I think there’s great potential here, in us. It’s different from the uncertainty in my former relationships. I don’t mean to move too quickly, but…” 

“You kinda skipped the crush phase,” Henry told him. He’d never say so, but he felt just a little bit pleased about that. 

Joey smiled sheepishly. “I’d hoped it wasn’t too obvious. I swear it wasn’t anything as trite as love at first sight.” 

“Mm. Love at second sight?” 

Laughing, Joey slid his hand up until his palm was pressed to Henry’s nape, fingers inching into his hair. “I’m not sure how to describe it. You intrigued me at first, then impressed me, then charmed me. And by then, our first meeting had ended, and I knew at the very least that I’d like to be your friend.”

“Can’t imagine why,” Henry teased. “I sassed you repeatedly.” 

“You were honest,” Joey corrected him. “Honest and funny and you weren’t star-struck and you—I’m not sure you realize this, Henry, but you have a certainty about you, a confidence in who you are, that is very engaging, and not just for a potential partner.”

“Stop,” he said, wriggling, and it maybe came out more as a whine than he’d intended. 

“And shy about being complimented!” Joey realized, delighted. “I’ll keep that in mind.” 

Henry didn’t pout. But he did change the subject, pointedly saying, “Y’know, there’s an awful lot of talking happening under this mistletoe.”

Joey chuckled; he seemed to laugh a lot around Henry. “Since I am largely to blame, allow me to correct that.”

“I appreciate you taking responsibility for your actions.”

“Oh, hush, you menace.” 

Reaching up to grip Joey’s tie, Henry smiled his devil’s grin and said, “Make me.”