Work Text:
Henry’s been working on the new LA shelter for months. He’s had countless conference calls with investors, contractors, city council, and more. He’s missed so many dinners at home because of the time difference that Alex started bringing dinner directly to Henry’s office just to spend a little time together that isn’t while they’re sleeping.
But now, they’re ready for the final touches before opening, and Henry needs to be hands-on, literally. He knew this time would come, but he hates being away from home. The brownstone with its eclectic art and family photos, little touches that both he and Alex have contributed to, a place that shows the two of them. This is in direct opposition to his apartment at Kensington, where very little was him. Then again, he was barely allowed to exist as himself, and he doesn’t take his life now for granted. As much as he hates leaving home – and Alex, which is basically the same thing – he knows it will be worth it to get the new shelter up and running.
That evening, it’s a rare time when he has no calls or urgent business at the shelter, so he’s at home. He’s on the phone with his assistant, discussing hotel options, when Alex interrupts. “Why do you need a hotel in LA?”
“Excuse me,” Henry says to his very patient assistant, and covers the phone with his hand. “I need a hotel, love, because I need a place to stay when I’m not at the shelter. I’m not certain if the place has all the bedding and plumbing set up yet, and I would prefer to have a private, comfortable space to sleep and shower.” He’s very patient with what seems to be a silly question.
Alex rolls his eyes. “I mean, my dad lives in LA. Stay with him. I know I can’t come with you because of classes, but he’d be thrilled to have you there.”
“I’ll ring you back,” Henry says into the phone, and ends the call. “Alex, I can’t–”
“Don’t,” Alex stops him. “My dad has plenty of space and depending on the Congress schedule, you may have the whole place to yourself. Don’t bother with a hotel, especially when you need to get an extra room for security and check in using an alias, and it’s just a pain. Seriously, let’s call him now. It’s not that late if he’s out west, and it’s not even that late here if he’s in DC.”
“I don’t know, Alex,” Henry hedges. “I wouldn’t want to put him out. Having a guest stay with you, especially when you’re used to being alone, is an imposition.”
Alex scoffs. “I think he’d be insulted if we didn’t even ask, babe. C’mon,” he coaxes.
That’s all it takes. Henry can never say no to Alex. He never could. Before he knows it, he and Alex are looking at the smiling face of Oscar Diaz on the phone’s small screen, propped up in front of them.
“Mijos! It’s good to see you!” Oscar exclaims. “How are you? What’s going on?”
“Hey Pa,” Alex starts. “Where are you at now? Are you in DC, or…?”
“Home in sunny California,” Oscar answers. “Why? You got an event in DC or something?”
“No, but Henry is going to be out there for work,” Alex tells him.
“Oh, when?” Oscar asks. “Let me pull up my calendar. Maybe we can get together. Here in LA, right?”
Henry gives him the start date, and then lets him know he’ll be out there for a while. “I was actually thinking of getting an apartment for rent or a hotel with a full suite. I’ll be at the shelter most of the time but it will get exhausting to be in a regular hotel room. I was talking with my assistant earlier, but we haven’t found the perfect option yet. Do you have any recommendations?” Henry actually hopes Oscar will be able to give him names of upscale extended-stay hotels or secure apartments with short-term leases, to give them both some privacy, but he doesn’t.
“You’re welcome to stay here!” Oscar offers, just as Alex had predicted.
Henry keeps his face neutral. He likes Oscar and he feels fairly comfortable around him most of the time, but staying with him for an extended period of time is quite another thing. “Oscar, I wouldn’t want to impose–” he attempts.
“Nonsense!” Oscar waves his hand in dismissal. “It’s not imposing. It’s family.”
As if it’s as simple as that, Henry muses to himself. Alex and his family have a very different idea of ‘family’ than most of his relatives do. They’d all welcomed him with open arms almost immediately. Hearing Oscar call him ‘family’ like this makes something inside him twist. His immediate family have mostly accepted Alex, but there’s a difference between Philip’s version of “acceptance” and Oscar’s.
“Are you sure?” Henry asks doubtfully.
“It’s a done deal. I’ll have Alex’s old room made up as soon as we get off the phone,” Oscar insists.
“Alex’s old room, hmm?” Henry grins and nudges Alex, who grimaces. “Any remnants from his childhood?”
“There weren’t many to begin with,” Alex mutters. Henry raises his eyebrows but doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t need to; they’ve had many conversations on how uncomfortable Alex had felt at his dad’s apartment, that he didn’t mind it but he always felt more like a guest there than truly at home. Alex had confessed how the lakehouse, somehow, felt more like a home.
“Thank you so much, Oscar,” Henry says. “I truly appreciate this.”
“I’ll see you soon, kiddo.”
“It’ll be good bonding for the two of you,” Alex says to Henry when they hang up. “Y’all haven’t really had much time that wasn’t interrupted by me or June or Nora barging in for more food or margaritas or something.”
Henry smiles, though it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. He appreciates Oscar’s offer and Alex is right; it’ll certainly be easier, security-wise, and it will be good bonding. But he really hasn’t spent that much time with Oscar one-on-one and he’s quite nervous about it, to be perfectly honest with himself. But like anything with Alex’s family, he’ll get used to it in time. Exposure therapy, of a sort.
“You okay, baby?” Alex asks softly.
Henry nods, wrapping his arms around his boyfriend. “I’m fine, love. Just thinking about all the logistics.”
“No more work thoughts tonight,” Alex declares. “I won’t think about school and you don’t think about work. Those are tomorrow things.”
“Yes, love,” Henry agrees, even though it’s not so easy. He presses a kiss to Alex’s hair.
When the PPOs drop him off at Oscar’s place, he’s greeted with a warm smile and open arms, literally. Oscar ushers him inside, taking Henry’s bag from his shoulder – although Henry tries to insist it’s not necessary – and asking him questions without waiting for the answers. It sounds a lot like Alex’s chatter, and despite himself, Henry feels a sense of calm and belonging, coupled with a bit of longing for his own Diaz man.
“Thank you for letting me stay here, Oscar,” Henry breaks in. “I do have something for you, somewhere in one of my bags, but –”
“Don’t worry about it now, mijo,” Oscar assures him. “Make yourself at home. You hungry? I thought we’d order in tonight, to make it easier, unless you’d prefer home-cooked?”
“Whatever you have planned is fine,” Henry tells him politely. “I’m not fussy.”
“You want some water? Or… tea? I do have a kettle, Alex already grilled me about making sure I have one, and the brand you like. I already have some teas, though when I make it, I usually let it cool and have it iced.”
“Oh, er…” Henry tries to keep his face neutral. He still hasn’t gotten used to “iced tea” as a concept despite the years he’s lived in this country. Alex had made him try “southern sweet tea” once and Henry had almost gagged at the sugary taste. He likes a bit of sugar in his tea, certainly, but the cold drink plus the amount of sweetness had caught him off-guard and he’d swore off anything but the closest he can get to true British tea. “Water is fine for now, thank you.”
Oscar hands him a water bottle and claps him on the back. “Let me show you to your room,” he offers, pointing down a short hallway. “Alex picked out the paint colour, this light blue, when I got the place,” he comments when they enter one of the smaller bedrooms.
“It’s nice,” Henry comments, and it is. Neutral enough without being boring. He and Alex had picked out colours for the brownstone together, and one of the things they both decided on was no white walls. They wanted colourful backdrops and nothing formal. They’d pored over decorating websites, hired and fired several decorators, and ended up having a painting party with Nora and June. It was a mess, and Henry remembers the four of them in paint-splattered clothes, sitting on the floor of what would become their den, eating pizza directly out of the box, and it was one of the best nights he’d had.
As if he’s reading Henry’s mind, Oscar speaks up. “Pizza sound good for tonight? I don’t know what your schedule is like, but I should be here most evenings. I remember you liked the food when we’re out at the lake house. I’m still lacking in the barbecue skills, but I can put together some good tamales. Figure we can work on that one night. One thing about California, is that it does Mexican food as good as Texas does, though nothing beats my ma’s home cooking,” His voice takes on a bit of a dreamy quality, and Henry smiles. He thinks about how Alex always gravitates toward Mexican food a bit more when he’s feeling poorly, either ill or upset. Henry had been surprised on more than one occasion with a bit more chilli powder than normal and now every time Alex cooks while grumpy, Henry makes sure there’s extra milk in the fridge.
“Pizza sounds fine, thank you,” Henry says aloud.
“You don’t have to keep thanking me,” Oscar laughs, but it isn’t mean. It feels… well, Henry supposes that saying it feels fatherly is a bit on the nose, but it does. “I’ll let you get settled in and let you know when it’s here. Feel free to roam about. Bathroom’s across the hall,” he gestures.
Over pizza and beer (Shiner, Henry notes, which he knows is a Texas brand though he’s seen it even in Brooklyn – it's Alex’s favourite), Oscar asks Henry about the new shelter. Henry fills him in, happily, and he marvels at how easy Oscar is to talk to. His interest seems genuine and his follow-up questions are intelligent. It’s not hard to see how he was elected to office.
Later that night, he's FaceTiming with Bea while she's getting ready for her day and he's trying to will himself to get sleepy.
"Is it weird, being there alone?" She asks him. "I mean, without Alex?"
Henry contemplates this for a moment before answering. "Kind of? It's not as strange as I thought it would be."
"That's good!" she grins.
"What are you up to today?" Henry notices she's picking out clothes that are a little more proper than her usual preference.
"Mum and I are doing an appearance for a Girls Out Loud event," she says, holding up two dresses. "Which one, d'you think?"
Henry squints at the phone. "Um… the green one," he chooses. "What’s Girls Out Loud?"
"It's an organisation that supports teen girls with, like, mentoring and other resources. They asked us, and we talked it over in a meeting. Mum and I are making a speech together and doing meet and greets. You know the drill. Martha was supposed to join us originally but her doctor told her to take it easy, so it's just the two of us."
"That'll be nice, though," Henry says encouragingly. "Is Martha all right?"
"Just precaution, you know how it is." The camera is pointing at the ceiling while Bea is presumably getting dressed. "Making sure our niece or nephew stays healthy and all that."
Henry nods, even though she can't see him. He has a lot of complex feelings on Philip becoming a father, but that's one of the things he's working on in therapy. He yawns. "Bea, I should try to get some sleep. Going to see the shelter in the morning."
His sister's face appears back onscreen. "Sleep well! Text me after and let me know how it goes." She blows him a kiss, then disconnects.
Henry wakes to a short video of Alex in their kitchen at breakfast, feeding David some table scraps. "Hey sweetheart," video Alex says. "We miss you and we love you! Good luck at the new place. Have fun with Dad." He makes David’s paw wave, then sends the camera a saucy wink.
Henry types out a quick message in response. "Morning, darling. I miss you both. Heading to the shelter in a few. Call me when you're home after classes? Love you."
When he comes down the hall, he sees Oscar already at his computer, sipping from a coffee mug - Henry makes out the words "Dad" and "lucky" but he can't quite make out anything else, and vaguely wonders if it's a gift from Alex or June. "Morning," Henry says softly, so as not to startle his host.
Oscar looks up from his work with a smile. “Buenas Dias! Sleep okay?” When Henry nods, Oscar continues. “You can feel free to make yourself some breakfast, or I can whip something up. I have eggs and I have frijoles, there’s cereal if you prefer. Whatever you want!”
Frijoles, Henry remembers from conversations with Alex, are beans, but they’re probably mexican-style refried, and not baked beans like he’s more used to. And knowing the Diaz men as he does, anything pre-cooked by Oscar will likely be too spicy for his tastes. “Cereal is fine, maybe with some fresh fruit if you have it? I don’t want you to go to any trouble.”
“No trouble at all!” Oscar insists. “The fruit basket is on the counter in the corner,” he points, “and the knives are on the other side, by the cutting board. Help yourself to anything you want and if you need anything, just let me know. Oh, you said tea, right?”
“Yes, but it’s really fine if you don’t–”
“Mijo,” Oscar says kindly, turning to face Henry. “You have to stop thinking you’re an imposition to me. I wouldn’t offer if I wasn’t willing. If you’d prefer to make your own tea, the kettle is also on the counter; feel free to use tap water. The tea bags are in the cabinet to the left of the stove. I have your preferred brand in stock because Alex told me what kind you like. Por favor, make yourself at home.”
Henry bites the inside of his lip. Oscar is being so kind and warm toward him. It’s not that he expected less; it’s just… this feeling of home and family and warmth is… still something he’s getting used to. He’s used to it at home with Alex (though at times the fact that he is used to it still amazes him) and has even come to feel that way with June and Nora. But this extra kindness from Oscar is taking him by surprise, though he couldn’t say exactly why. “Thank you,” is all he can get out, and he busies himself preparing his breakfast.
The shelter walk-through goes about as expected. The on-site staff, headed up by Emma, who will run this location, fills Henry in on the progress of each contractor, and it feels more real now that he can see each room as he’s told about it. He floats ideas that work in the other shelters, a library, a craft room, a quiet room, and other specifics that can be added after opening - soft launch in a week, Grand Opening in ten days. But they’ll be ready, he knows. These things have a tendency to come together very quickly in the last few days, and then he can breathe a sigh of relief. Just after the relief that he pulled it off will come the pride of accomplishment. Alex is planning to fly out for the opening, and Henry can’t wait to share this with his partner.
Over lunch, he and Emma decide to take a break from talking about everything that needs to be done, to save their sanities. Instead, she asks him about his time in LA so far, and where he’s staying.
“I’ve only just arrived last night,” Henry explains, “so this is pretty much all I’ve seen thus far. I have been here before, though, so don’t worry about this being my only experience!” he laughs. “I’m staying with my–” he hesitates. What does he call Oscar? To simply say “my boyfriend’s father” seems… inadequate even though it’s technically the truth. Though he and Alex have talked about the future, both in vague terms and and in specific ones, they’re not engaged (yet), nor does Henry have a ring (again, yet) so to refer to Oscar as his father-in-law seems a bit like putting the cart before the horse, so to speak. “I’m staying with family,” is what he lands on, and as he says it, he knows it’s true.
Emma smiles and relates a story about her own family, in the midwest. The two of them bond over using technology to keep in touch with loved ones over long distances. “Thank God for Face-Time!” she says, and he couldn’t agree more.
“Speaking of,” Henry says as his phone lights up with a call from Alex. “I’ll take this in the other room."
Later on, he’s back at Oscar’s, sharing the updates from his day and his plans for this shelter. It’s surprisingly comfortable and easy to share. He even finds himself confessing his dreams for the future of the Foundation, things he’s only shared with Alex and Pez. In turn, Henry asks Oscar about his work. He’s under the assumption he’s not to know about anything currently in progress, so instead he asks about the past or the future.
Henry shares an anecdote about Alex losing his favourite pen that he likes to use for note-taking only to find it tangled in his hair, and Oscar shares a similar story about a much-younger Alex. “The more things change…” Oscar says and laughs, a deep throaty laugh that Henry can’t help but smile at.
“Why don’t we start on dinner?” Oscar suggests. “It’s getting a little late tonight, so we’ll keep it to something simple. Tomorrow, I’ll try to plan earlier and maybe we can have those tamales that I promised.” He stands and starts taking out food from the cabinet and fridge. He sets up a tomato with a cutting board and knife on the counter. “Here. You chop this. I’ll work on the spices.”
“Er, would you mind if you made it so it’s not too–” Henry starts.
“Not too hot?” Oscar finishes with a chuckle. “You got it. Cholula on the table only.”
Henry grins. “That’s Alex’s favourite brand, and even though we can get it at the shop we usually go to, he swears it tastes different in Texas and he insists on getting a case to bring home with him anytime we go back there.”
Oscar laughs. “It’s the nostalgia for him. I just get mine at the store here. Unless I get the opportunity to go to Mexico, and then I stock up on the real stuff. But I haven’t been back in years. I should try to take the time. My parents are here in San Diego but I still have other family there – tias y tios, cousins… ah, but time happens.” He shrugs.
There aren’t many extended family members that Henry’s close with. He’s barely spoken to any of his cousins outside of formalities, not since he’s moved. It certainly hasn’t been time or distance keeping them apart, but he understands Oscar’s feelings nonetheless.
“Is this good?” he asks instead of continuing the family discussion, showing off the finely chopped tomato. While his kitchen skills have improved in the past few years, that’s not saying much considering they were basically nonexistent before. Henry’s often careful when attempting to prepare a meal, worrying over the exact steps in the recipe over and over. This is in direct contrast to Alex who throws a bunch of things in the pan and hopes it comes out good. The funny thing is that it usually does. Sometimes Alex will suggest they cook together, which usually means Henry is in charge of chopping or mixing whatever Alex tells him to, and he’s perfectly happy not having to be in charge of something bigger.
Oscar looks over from the stove where he’s searing the chicken in a skillet. “Yeah, that looks fine. Do you want to do the squash next?”
Squash here is a vegetable, Henry reminds himself, not the drink, and he’s grateful he remembered so he doesn’t show any surprise when he’s handed several medium courgettes. He gets to work chopping these as well, taking to his sous-chef status with ease. As he watches Oscar put each ingredient in the pan, he imagines Alex’s face when he eats something he enjoys. It’s one of Henry’s favourite expressions on him. Then again, seeing Alex have any sort of pleasure is one of Henry’s favourite things.
He’d like to learn a little more on how to put that expression there with food, though. He should take advantage of having Alex’s father here to see if there’s something new he can surprise his boyfriend with when he goes back home.
He brings it up the next afternoon when he gets back from the shelter, and Oscar immediately lights up, agreeing immediately. Henry inquired about tamales, since Oscar had mentioned them the other day, and he’d enjoyed them when they had them at the lake house.
“That might be a project for another time,” Oscar says, a bit doubtfully. “They’re not difficult but they do take several hours to make.”
“Oh,” Henry is visibly disappointed. It had sounded like a good idea, and it’s not something they have often – though now he supposes he understands why. Maybe that can be something for another time, though.
“How about fajitas? Those are quick,” Oscar suggests. “Or enchiladas, or arroz con pollo?”
“The fajitas are actually something we make fairly frequently at home,” Henry shares. “I’ve even gotten to know exactly how much we need of the peppers and onions and I can have them prepared rather quickly.”
“You’re learning!” Oscar claps Henry on the back.
Henry thinks back to the first meals he tried to make with Alex. It was quite pathetic, though he supposes it’s not really surprising considering how he was raised. The first time he tried to surprise Alex with breakfast, it had turned out rather dreadful. After much practice, he’d been able to turn out a perfectly respectable platter.
“I just wanted ‘a win’ for a change, like you say,” Henry had said to Alex after an early attempt, looking down sadly at his runny eggs. “But I couldn’t even handle that.”
“Maybe not a win, baby, but the thought counts for everything!” Alex had tried to soothe him.
“It’s a disgrace to the name of breakfast,” Henry had said with a frown.
Alex had laughed and then kissed him. “Sweetheart, you're so dramatic! Maybe it’s not a win , no, but it’s certainly not a disgraceful performance! And you’ll get better over time, like everything.”
They’d binned the ruined food and walked to the corner store for breakfast, and Henry had known that it was something they’d remember and laugh about for years to come.
“Once you soften the corn husk, then you spread the masa…” Oscar’s saying, but Henry clearly missed a whole bit in there and he’s not even sure what dish Oscar is telling him about.
“I’m so sorry, Oscar, I must have zoned out for a moment. Are you telling me about what we’re making tonight?”
“Oh, no, I was talking about the steps to tamale-making,” says Oscar. “What did you want to make tonight?”
“Of the choices you suggested?” Henry considers. “I think enchiladas.”
“Great!” Oscar says. “I even have salsa roja y salsa verde pre-made–” Henry understands the “salsa” part and he infers that those are two different flavours. “so we don’t have to worry about that,” Oscar finishes. He takes the ingredients out and sets them on the counter, explaining as he goes, and gives Henry basic instructions on how to proceed. “I’ll send you this recipe when we’re done so you can make it at home.”
“I’d love that, thank you.” Henry imagines a scenario where he surprises Alex with a dish he loves as taught by his father. He thinks about all the times Alex has surprised him with British treats, such as the Jaffa Cakes bought at a specialty shop or brought over in Pez or Bea’s suitcases. There's the taste-testing Alex had done at all the halal carts trying to find the best one because Henry had off-handedly remarked one evening that he missed the falafel cart near the palace.
Over dinner, Oscar shares some stories of Alex as a boy, impassioned and dedicated to whatever cause he felt important, even at a young age. The details of the stories may be new, but none of it is surprising to Henry. It all just lends a little richness and depth to the Alex he knows and loves now.
Henry especially loves hearing the stories of Alex and June and their cousins. He can only imagine the boisterous chatter and laughter that would make up a Diaz family get-together. He thinks about the holidays he had with his extended family growing up, how stiff and formal they were. Though he thinks he might be a little overwhelmed with the entire Diaz clan, especially considering he still doesn't know a lot of Spanish, he's come to treasure the holidays he spends with Alex's immediate family.
Later on, he’s FaceTiming with Alex while he works on some paperwork for the shelter and Alex highlights his notes from class. When he tells Alex about some of the stories he’s heard from Oscar, Alex laughs and shares some of his own memories.
“I haven’t really talked to my cousins much in a while,” Alex says, a note of sadness creeping in. “One of my tios, my dad’s oldest brother – not the oldest of all of them, that’s my Tia Carmen, she lives with my grandparents in San Diego and has no kids, but Tio Luis, he and my dad fell out. I haven’t seen him or his kids since… I don’t know. I think they were at June’s quinces, but who remembers. Anyway, my other uncle, Tio Mateo – the youngest – he says that Tio Luis has gotten really stupidly Conservative as he’s gotten older. Matt also said that Luis didn’t vote for my mom in either election – he was apparently very vocal about it – plus a whole bunch of other stuff. He’s probably homophobic, too, so no loss there.”
“Well, I must say I’m glad you don’t have to know for sure,” Henry interjects. “Several of my cousins – as well as aunts and uncles – are definitely homophobic, and unfortunately, I have to sit there and listen to their snide remarks as we all pretend the remarks are benign and polite.”
“These royal events?” Alex checks. At Henry’s nod, his face darkens. “Fuck that. Have you ever snapped back? I know you have.”
Henry smiles. “As long as my grandmother isn’t within earshot, I’ve been known to retort back with their own shameful secrets – not that me being gay is either shameful nor a secret anymore, but they think it is.”
“Can I come with you next time, babe?” Alex asks. “I have no problem speaking my mind out loud if it comes to that and if I get kicked out, we’ll set a designated meeting spot or something.”
“Probably not the best idea to cause a scene,” Henry says, shaking his head. “But thank you for the offer.” He glances at the clock. “It’s getting late there, love. Shouldn’t you be getting ready for bed?”
“In a few,” Alex says, turning to a new page in his notebook. “I’ll finish looking over the prosecution of this case – I’ll save the defence for tomorrow – and then I’ll let David out in the back before closing up the downstairs.”
“I’m staying on with you until you close that textbook,” Henry warns. “If I let you go, you won’t stop.”
Alex laughs. “Still worrying about my habits from 3000 miles away. I love you, sweetheart.”
“I love you too.” Henry smiles, but he’d really like to have Alex in person and not over the phone screen.
True to his word, Alex finishes up quickly then shuts his books. “Happy?” he asks, holding the phone in his hand as he leaves the office.
“Delighted, darling,” Henry replies. “Let me say goodnight to David and then I’ll let you go.” Alex shows the phone to David, then has to hold it out of his reach when he tries to lick Henry’s image. Henry laughs and says his good-nights, telling both Alex and David he loves them before they end the call.
The rest of the week leading up to the shelter’s “soft launch” goes so smoothly that Henry is left wondering when something will go wrong. The contractors finish early, which is something that Henry isn’t sure has ever happened before. He and Emma spend about two hours hunched over one laptop, scouring Etsy for decorations that feel affirming and welcoming and finally get so overwhelmed with the choices, they break early for the day.
Now he has some unexpected time back in his day, though he still has some work to do that doesn't need to be on-site, checking on everything for the grand opening, but that can wait a few hours. He asks Oscar, after confirming that he's not too busy with his own work, to show him another dish. He offers to take point this time, instead of having Oscar explain what he's doing as he goes, he would instruct Henry to do each step.
Oscar is so excited, he immediately abandons his computer, despite Henry's protests that his cooking lessons can surely wait for whatever work Oscar’s doing for the US government, but he's waved off. “I can do that later,” Oscar insists.
Henry follows each instruction carefully and deliberately, until he gets to the seasoning. Oscar insists the spices are measured by “taste and heart, mijo” but he’s not really sure what that means. In the end, he just ends up winging it, and hopes it’s not too much or too little. “Please check this for me,” he pleads with Oscar, who acquiesces with a laugh.
“Not bad for your first time!” is the verdict, and Henry breathes a sigh of relief. “Not bad” is more than acceptable. “Maybe a little heavy on the cumin but that’s fine; it’s a strong spice, and I forgot to warn you.”
Henry nods, making a mental note of that for when he attempts this again. “Anything else?”
Oscar tastes the dish again and hums thoughtfully. “The heat is fine; it’s mild enough for you. And if you do end up making something too hot, a dash of brown sugar or molasses will cut the spice.”
“And dairy,” Henry adds from experience.
“Well yeah, but I meant in the cooking process,” Oscar says. “You can tame it down while it’s still cooking without masking the flavour. Yoghurt or sour cream or crema is to be added on the plate only, and sometimes it makes it too creamy. Not every dish calls for that.”
“I didn’t realise that.” Henry frowns.
“It’s fine,” Oscar assures him. “There’s no laws around food. I can tell you what’s traditional and what’s an American addition, and then you can eat it however you like.”
“I want to make sure I’m making it the way Alex would like it,” Henry confesses, though it’s hardly a secret.
“You’re fine!” Oscar says again. “I have an idea. He’ll be here in, what – two days?”
Henry nods. “Yes, the day after tomorrow. I was hoping to meet him as his plane lands, but I’ll be tied up at the shelter and I can’t get away at that time. It’s the day before the grand opening and we’ll be in operations already. I’ll be putting out fires left and right.” He remembers back when the Brooklyn shelter first opened, it was incredibly stressful. Rewarding, too, but stressful on those first few days. This time he has Emma, who will be running this branch when he heads back to New York, but he knows that having two leaders doesn’t always mean less work; if anything, the universe knows this and makes twice as many problems.
“He has a car service?” Oscar checks. When Henry confirms, Oscar nods. “They’ll bring him right here and he’ll probably appreciate the opportunity to freshen up or relax for a while.”
That doesn’t sound like Alex, Henry thinks. Usually when one of them has to be away for any reason, they want to see each other as soon as possible, not “freshen up” first. And relax? Has Oscar met his son? Getting Alex to relax is not easy, and knowing him as Henry does, the anxiety and anticipation humming under his skin wouldn’t allow him to relax even if he tries. Maybe he’ll suggest Alex meet him at the shelter if he wants instead of coming directly to Oscar’s.
“I have an idea,” Oscar says, breaking Henry’s reverie. “Why don’t you cook the first night he’s here? But we won’t tell him until after. That can be your surprise.”
“Brilliant idea, thank you!” Henry's comforted knowing that Oscar will be supervising the first time he makes this dish on his own.
Alex does come directly to the shelter from the airport. Henry almost misses his text that he’s here, but he sees it and makes it to the front lobby just as Alex walks in. He waits patiently with an amused smile, leaning against the wall, while Alex juggles his bags and the door. Finally, Alex glances up and Henry catches his eye. A grin breaks out on Alex's face and he drops his bags, launching himself into Henry's waiting arms.
"Hi, love," Henry whispers in his ear. "Missed you."
"Missed you," Alex replies, and oh, it's just so good to have him in his arms again.
Henry kisses him softly, then pulls back slightly, remembering they're not only in public but at his place of work. "Everything go smoothly?"
"Yep," Alex says, sliding his hand into Henry's. "Left David in the very capable hands of his auntie June, where the only thing he's in danger of is too many treats and belly-rubs. Flight was uneventful; I got some work done so I don't have to think of it until we're back home. I'm here for you and your big event, sweetheart."
Henry squeezes his hand, letting that say his gratitude better than his words can at the moment. "Shall I give you the tour?"
"Please!" Alex says excitedly, and Henry loves how genuine Alex's enthusiasm is for Henry's project.
Henry shows Alex around proudly, pointing out the bunks with individual lights and lock-boxes. "They each have the only key to their own box," Henry explains. "Not even staff have copies. It's important that they have a sense of security and ownership over their own belongings while they're here. Also we don't have separate rooms for boys and girls, just separate changing rooms in the restrooms - on one side there are the toilets, and the other side has the equivalent of store fitting rooms. In a place like this, privacy is so rare that we try to provide it where we can," he explains.
"I'm so fucking proud of you, baby," Alex says softly. "This is amazing and I know you're gonna say it was a team effort but you led that team and you're amazing. I can't wait to stand by your side tomorrow as all the press want to interview you and snap your picture – not because of who your family is, but because of your accomplishments."
Henry feels like he might cry. The way Alex knows him so well, knows exactly what to say, means more to him than he could ever say. He hopes the dinner tonight will go a little ways toward showing his own appreciation for his partner.
After Henry finishes his tour, Alex leaves him to his work, and Henry notices him strike up a conversation with one of the kids – Alex really can talk to anyone, Henry muses to himself. He and Emma check in each room and discuss the impending public visits the next day. The press and the attention on him is his least favourite part of this, but he knows it’s necessary. They can’t help kids if no one knows about the shelter – the few that have shown up already had found it merely by chance, but the more press they get, the more the word gets out. He can handle himself in public appearances – he’s had enough practice over the years – but he still doesn’t like it any more than he used to.
He runs over his talking points in his mind and makes it a point to leave his notecards on his desk in the office here, lest he overthink and ruin what he already has, or ruin the evening he has planned with Alex.
“Henry, I think we’ve done everything we can,” Emma says to him, after their third walk-through of the place. Even the kids are snickering, and they’ve only been here a day or two. “Let’s call it a night.”
“You’re right,” Henry agrees. There’s nothing good that can come of staying; he and Alex should head back to Oscar’s. The evening staff has already arrived, so there isn’t anything keeping him here other than perfectionism.
As if he could sense Henry’s anxiety, Alex appears by his side. “You about done, babe?” he asks.
Henry nods. It’s time to let all his hard work here speak for itself – tomorrow. Tonight, it’s time for a different kind of presentation.
When they arrive at Oscar’s, he’s waiting at the door, ready with a big hug for Alex, and a clap on the back with a wink at Henry. So the plan is still in place, then. When Henry wonders how they’re going to keep Alex occupied to facilitate the surprise of Henry being the one to cook, Alex’s phone starts going off.
“Fuck, it’s June. I forgot to text her when I got here,” Alex says with a frown. “I should go talk to her.”
“Tell CJ it’s my fault!” Oscar offers as Alex heads into the bedroom, then turns to Henry. “Ready to get started? I can distract Alex if I need to.”
Henry smirks, in spite of himself. “Distracting Alex is not a problem I tend to have,” he says, then his eyes widen, realising what he said and how it could be taken.
Luckily for both of them, Oscar just raises his eyebrows and doesn’t comment on it, simply guides Henry into the kitchen. “Have at it, mijo. I’m going to sit here at the computer and get some work done; you just holler if you need anything.”
Henry nods, and checks the recipe notes. He can do this alone. He can do this tonight, for Alex, and then again when they get back to their place, bringing a taste of home to… well, home. He carefully measures pours each ingredient in the pan, tasting the filling as he goes for seasoning. Before he puts everything together, he asks Oscar for his opinion. He’s proud of himself for not having to double check along the way, but he needs to be sure the taste is right, and he doesn’t trust his own British taste buds. When Oscar gives his stamp of approval, Henry slides the finished dish into the pre-heated oven and goes to check on Alex.
He knocks on the closed door. “Alex?” he calls.
“Come on in!” comes the response.
When he opens the door, he sees Alex lying on his front on the bed, the phone propped up in front of him. Surprisingly, it’s not June’s face he sees as he expected, but someone he doesn’t quite recognise, even though they look vaguely familiar.
“I gotta go, Ry. I’ll talk to you when I get back. Good luck with that case – you got this, man!” Alex ends the call, then turns to Henry with a smile, shifting so there’s room for Henry to join him on the bed. “Ryan from class,” he says in explanation, and that makes sense. “I talked to June, too. She yelled at me for not letting her know I made it safely, and didn’t believe it was Dad’s fault. She says he must have told me to say that.” Alex huffs, then leans his head on Henry’s shoulder, cuddling in close. “Nora couldn’t come down with her because of her class ‘n’ work schedule, so I think she’s grumpy ‘cause she’s lonely. Can’t relate.”
“Certainly not,” Henry murmurs, leaning in to kiss Alex. The kiss is soft at first, then builds, but knowing that Alex’s father is just in the other room keeps both of them from letting anything get out of hand. It just feels good to be here, together. “You hungry, love?”
“Starving,” Alex breathes out. “Oh, wait–for like, actual food?”
The spell is broken. Henry laughs, letting his forehead fall onto Alex’s shoulder. “Yes, for actual food, you numpty.”
“In a minute,” Alex says, kissing Henry’s forehead. “Wanna snuggle a bit first.” Well, that’s a proposition that Henry has no problem honouring, so he wraps his arms around Alex and slides down so they’re more comfortable on the bed.
“Boys! Dinner’s ready!” Oscar calls out and they both sit up.
Henry can smell the food and his mouth waters. He hadn’t realised how hungry he was until now, having skipped lunch. Must be worse for Alex, he muses, with the flight and time difference. Knowing Alex, he’s either starving and hasn’t noticed, or he packed snacks for the flight. He wonders if a hungrier Alex would be more forgiving toward Henry’s cooking or if he doesn’t eat as much as he normally does that Henry should chalk it up to Alex having filled up on snacks. He decides it’s better not to ask or wonder and to just see what happens.
While they each fill their plates, Alex regales them with a story of David being adorable. Henry might be biassed, but he thinks David is always adorable.
“I had a dog growing up,” Oscar shares. “I wanted Alex and June to have that same experience, but Ellen is allergic. I thought about getting one when we split up, but it just didn’t make sense with my schedule. Alex, though?”
Alex groans. “Don’t,” he pleads.
Oscar grins and doesn’t listen. “Alex always loved dogs as a kid. He’d be out there, petting all the neighbourhood dogs all the time. You know how a lot of kids have imaginary friends?”
Henry nods. He’d never had one, but Bea did for a little while. She and their mum had told him the stories. She’d only had the friend until Henry was old enough to play with her, so he has no memory of it.
“Alex didn’t need an imaginary friend; he had June and lots of real people friends. He did have an imaginary dog,” Oscar continues. “He named it ‘Perrito’ and it changed description every time someone asked.”
“I love it,” Henry says with a grin. Next to him, Alex is blushing at the embarrassing story and looking resolutely at his plate. Under the table, Henry reaches for his hand and squeezes it. Alex looks at him with a half smile.
Alex turns his focus back to the food. “Pa, this is great,” he says, taking a second helping. “I haven’t had this in a long time. I’d say California does Mexican almost as well as Texas does, but maybe it’s just your cooking I missed.”
“Actually,” Oscar begins, looking at Henry questioningly, then continues when Henry gives a slight nod. “This isn’t really my cooking tonight.”
Before Alex can ask, Henry speaks up. “It’s mine. Your dad taught me how to make this the other day and I wanted to surprise you.”
Alex looks between his father and Henry, taking a moment to absorb what they’d just told him. “...what? H, you made this?”
“I did,” Henry confirms with a smile.
Alex grins and reaches over to hug Henry from his seat. “That’s amazing, sweetheart! This is so good; I really didn’t know it wasn’t Dad’s cooking.”
Henry smiles, pleased. “I wanted to do something special for you.”
“And you did!” Alex says, with a kiss to Henry’s cheek. “Thank you, baby. I love you.”
“I love you too.”
“And you’re definitely going to make this again when we get home!” Alex continues. “Oh man, now that I know this is a thing, we’re gonna make so many other foods together…”
“Oh, no, what did I get myself into?” Henry fake-complains, but he’s still smiling, thinking of him and Alex, cooking together in their home. He can’t wait.
THE END