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"Of course, love, but would you love yourself if you were a worm?"
This visibly stumps Alex. If the way his mouth just opened for a rebuttal and coming up empty is anything to go by.
The brunet pulls away then, just enough to look at Henry with his attempted quip—but the expression on his face says he's suddenly struck with something akin to a moral dilemma. Knowing Alex, he'd probably argue that it is, in his honest and humble opinion, but Henry would wager one of the boxes of Jaffa Cakes that just came in that Alex would have never considered the reverse card to be such a sobering inquiry until it landed against his feet.
Henry, beside him, is unfazed by the obviousness that is the multiple gears running in Alex's brain right now. He's used to this; random moments of very trivial conversations and smaller talk escalating with the seriousness of a full-blown discussion and board meeting once it does hit Alex a certain way. An itch he can't put off scratching for later, he'd told Henry once.
And even when the question was meant to be nothing more than a witty retort, Henry is anything but unprepared at the familiarity of the sudden turn of events. He's dating Alex, come on.
Alex looks into Henry's eyes, still quiet but focused, and Henry almost gets lost in the intensity of it. It's nothing like the more passionate gaze he's seen mixed into honey brown orbs, but it's close. It's more reminiscent of when Alex is deciding between which tie is more fun to use; contemplative and curious. Always putting even the most frivolous things within his top priorities. Alex never does things half-arsed.
Henry loves this version of his boyfriend just as much as every version he's already seen, and has yet to see. One would think it's impossible for love to grow beyond the years of making itself home in a relationship, Nora would have numbers for it, probably, but Henry has always been an outlier to statistics. Takes pride in it, even.
And then Alex blinks away, breaking eye contact while shaking his head, as if he's thinking there are more pressing matters to run logistics about.
"I think that's gonna depend on how much work I'm getting done. Am I a helpful worm? Could I still run for congress or finish law school? Huh, imagine if worms had university— much less a social construct of education." Alex starts. Henry rolls his eyes, but the crinkle of it betrays his mock annoyance as he raises his brows to indulge Alex's train of thought. Actually, he doubts Alex is even paying attention to him right now.
"What would worm Abraham Maslow put in their hierarchy of needs? Would they have an equivalent to Abrah— wait, no. Never mind that. I imagine nutrient hoarding would belong to physiological needs, wouldn't it? Safety needs on the other hand, the necessity to feel secure surely isn't limited to humans…" Alex trails off, obviously considering thoughts in his head. The knit of his eyebrows are endearing, and Henry leans in to press a kiss onto it just because he can. It doesn't untangle the knot on Alex's forehead though, but that's to be expected in times like this.
There's no doubt a mental list is being made within the confines of Alex's mind at that moment; yet all Henry can do to not jostle him out of his thought process is continue tracing circles on his waist.
It's a lazy afternoon, per se; Henry having a day off from writing on Alex's insistence, and Alex having just arrived home from law school a little over two hours ago. He had a dinner meeting later but until then the man was adamant on recharging his energy, which means dragging Henry to their bed and attaching himself to his side to cuddle while they both scroll on their respective phones— well, more Alex then Henry at least, the latter was just happy to stare at Alex's side-profile and outline it with chaste kisses.
"Speaking of security—" Alex interrupts himself, "Am I invasive? God I'd be much more insufferable than I already am now if I were from an invasive species." Henry watches his boyfriend then, who gets his own answer almost immediately and slaps a hand on his forehead. "Fuck, I'm for sure part of an invasive species. I'm from Texas, babe. It's part of the contract. Comes with the package. The whole nine yards."
Henry vaguely recalls being sent an article a few months back about the hammerhead species in question. ("Bipalium kewense and Bipalium vagum. They could've just tagged me and called it a day.")
Simultaneously, his brain also turns its attention onto the endearment.
A couple years in and Henry still feels like putty at the pet names he's heard a million times by now. It never does get old with Alex. Henry has a strong inkling that even when they grow old and turn grey, hearing any pet name come out of Alex's mouth would still feel like the first time, he just has that effect on him.
It's an effect Henry so willingly embraces.
"Babe." Alex says now, Henry hums in response and is met with the pinched look on his lover's face. Alex's eyes always struck Henry as the closest example of stars; giving them a run for their money as it shines with determination or joy. At the moment, though, it's sparkling with concern.
His lips are pursed in the same way it does when he's bordering on stress and was taking every bit of his strength not to tip over, it only serves the purpose of Henry wanting to take his words back, "I don't think I'll love myself as a worm. I don't think I even want to try."
Henry isn't quite sure about what to do. He's put himself into this predicament after all, but he'd also rather set himself on fire than shut down Alex's investment on the matter.
"That's okay, love, I'm sure you'll be able to find some way to rid yourself of the sin you were born with." He tries, he's not sure how this will fare but just to be sure Henry also racks his brain for the name of the closest store that sells helados.
Alex opens his mouth again, already planning to counter his words, but Henry beats him to it as he adds shortly after, mirroring the seriousness Alex has taken toward the subject and echoing the same words Alex has told him multiple times before. "Your lineage does not define you."
The air stills for a couple moments; an icy floor waiting to be broken. Alex takes a crack at it first.
"You mean like a worm baptism?"
"Exactly." Henry nods, solemn in his response, running his hand up Alex's arm and settles on tracing similar lazy circles on the back of his lover's shoulder.
It seemed to work. The edge to Alex's voice had softened at the last inquiry, his face slowly smoothing back into comfort which Henry takes to him no longer mentally fighting for the purity of his invertebrate identity.
"How would that even work? All I can think of is how I'll die the moment someone douses me with holy water." Henry chuckles at the image of a wriggling Alex on the floor, silencing himself when he remembers there's actually been moments where both of them found themselves in worm-like grace… in other circumstances.
"Holy water is not going to burn you, love."
"You're right. I'll probably be fine."
Alex is quiet then, eyes fluttering close at the ministrations Henry is doing to his skin. He looks at peace like this. Sometimes Henry still finds it surreal that Alex trusts him massively like this, that Alex lets Henry love him at close proximity, that Alex loves him back.
This all had been just a pipe-dream to Henry from 2016.
"Take a picture babe, it'll last longer." There's a teasing lilt to Alex's voice, accompanying the cheeky smile on his lips, his dimple standing out atop the faint beginnings of stubble.
"If only I had a camera with me." He replies then, grinning in return as the wall of their polaroid pictures make their presence known to his peripheral vision.
He doesn't need a camera to keep this version of Alex forever, no. Not when he's already made it his life mission to make Alex happy and comfortable. Not when he's already drawn out the blueprints to every expression of Alex's face and have them spread out in the walls of his mind.
Alex blinks his eyes open and smiles sweetly at Henry. And Henry loves him. So much so that he tells Alex just because he can. He's free to bombard Alex with the most randomest confessions of his love now. Without fear, and with all the purpose, now.
"I love you too. You already know that though."
"I'm not opposed to hearing it."
"I know you aren't. I love you."
"I love you too, even if you are a worm."
Alex laughs, delighted in his words, acknowledges how he'd been overthinking a life so impossible just a little while ago.
"I love you because you think about these things just as seriously as you would others." Henry reminds him, peppering Alex's face with kisses afterwards.
Henry wants to keep loving him forever, but he doesn't say this one to Alex yet. Maybe later, once they've gotten up from the entanglement of their limbs, when Alex is heading out for that dinner meeting, or by the time he's come home and has fallen back into the sheets with Henry back in his arms and David by their feet.
The right time to say it will come, it's inevitable with Alex after all. Until then, the promise of loving Alex forever will be safely kept in the velvet box Henry hid above the kitchen cupboards.