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The room is dark when Henry enters it. There is both haste and molasses slowness in his movements. He goes to open the knot on his swimming trunks but his fingers feel alien, they do complete the task they were supposed to do, like the sense of belonging is drained from them.
He knows he’s made a mistake, that it was the most fucked up thing he had ever done, leaving Alex like that in the lake with his mouth open in shock, pain and rejection etched onto every moonlight kissed inch skin of his, endless browns of his eyes sullied with agony, the ever burning light in them dimmed. And all because of Henry.
But it was necessary, it was necessary for him to make a mistake to stop Alex from making one. He had been mangled, broken by so many people in so many places, he can not be trusted to hold something as precious as Alex’s heart; worth more than any damn diamond.
The second he picks up the boxer from the pile to put on, he realizes he’s made another mistake. It’s Alex’s. His hands instinctively clutch the fabric with rage, rage he feels for every second of his life that lead him to leave this, he clutches it with the desperation of a dying man knowing once he is walks out that door there is no life for him.
Henry will walk out of that door tonight, leaving Alex and his heart inside an unassuming lake house, and die the second he takes the step out of the threshold. The prince with his heart outside of his body becoming the prince without his heart, without his body, without his mind...
Then he can be what anyone wants from him to be, just “the prince”. Only, Alex didn’t see him that way, Alex didn’t care he was HRH whatever his long name was, Alex cared for Henry, simply Henry.
Henry who didn’t know how to cook to save his life but could tie every knot known to mankind, Henry who looked tough and resilient yet cried like a baby whenever Sirius Black died, Henry with insomnia, Henry with depression, Henry who played the piano to get lost inside the melody.
Clutching the fabric to his chest, Henry falls on his knees, his vision getting blurry with each passing second, tears not once relenting. A laughter erupts from his chest, a total contrast to his feelings.
He is sitting back on his heels, hunched, holding a pair of dirty boxers clutched to his chest and bawling his eyes out on the floor of his clandestine hookups (who he is desperately in love with and who also foolishly loves him in return) father’s lake house.
With the detachment and dullness he only reserves for his official duties, he gets up, puts on the first thing that belongs to him and gets under the covers, turning his back to the door in case Alex comes in and closes his eyes.
Sleep won’t come tonight, he knows that much. Sleep is like being elevated to the clouds, even in nightmares a blissful escape from real life. The weight in his chest constricting his breathing is holding him down, pulling him towards the hell with the pain he has caused, he will cause. He doesn’t deserve sleep anymore.
Seconds, minutes, hours later in the purgatory between sleep and consciousness, plagued by the demons of his mind, he hears the door creak open. Trying to keep his breathing even, he resists the overwhelming urge to squeeze his eyes shut- or to get up and hold Alex and let himself feel everything he’s been denying himself. Love, pain, grief over a relationship he didn’t even get to have.
Then the mattress dips under Alex’s weight, causing Henry to move slightly. Even the slightest movement makes him feel nauseous, guilty but what comes next is what kills Henry. The blow to his head, to his heart that already belonged to Alex, to his soul that was already damned.
Fingers whose touch Henry has memorized in dirty bathroom stalls and generic luxury hotel rooms, his own childhood bed and in the back of limos caress his hair, pulling one strand away from his face. A featherlight kiss from lips that have branded their imprint on Henry’s skin since the first time they touched him under that linden tree lands on his temple.
And with the devastatingly haunting voice that narrated every dream he didn’t even dare to have, a simple “I love you so much, H” fills the otherwise silent room.
Henry knows the room isn’t spinning, that he is laying down on mattresses they threw on the floor the day before, making a big enough floor bed that they can sleep next to each other in Alex’s room. He is frozen, nailed to the place. But it feels like everything is shifting, moving.
The earthquake that is Alexander Gabriel Claremont-Diaz is shaking him from his core, taking the building blocks of his life down, splitting roads of his mind wide, uprooting every rule planted in his head- rearranging the map of Henry’s life.
“I love you so much, it feels endless. Like I am just one small man in the vast ocean that is my love for you and I know I’ll spend my life swimming in it. I am sorry for rushing things if you weren’t ready to hear them. I’ll wait a lifetime for you if that is what you need.
“If this was just a coincidence, just bad timing and the beginning of one of your bad days, know that I love them just as much as I love you. I love every color and shade you have in between them.
“I was so afraid to come inside this room and find it empty, I stalled coming back here. If I never came in and found it empty, you never would be gone. Schrodinger's boyfriend. Thank god you’re still here. Always be here, H. I don’t think I can live without you now.
“It is so funny that speaking to you while you’re sleeping has become something I do on a regular basis. Whether on a FaceTime call when we’re thousands of miles apart, or while you’re sprawled out on the bed, right next to me.
“I hope your brilliant mind is writing every little thing I say down, tucking it safe inside the corners of your subconscious and remind your conscious mind every day how incredible you are.
“How brave you are, how pure and full of love your heart is even to those who don’t deserve it, how strong you are and mostly how loved you are. Not just by Bea and Pez or by me. You know June and Nora adore you and my dad is completely charmed by you too. Diaz men are weak for you I guess.”
A wet chuckle escapes Alex’s mouth and Henry tries so hard to not whimper, or let a sob wreck his body. He wills himself to breathe, in and out, in and out; and let the tears fall silently, wetting the pillow.
“But no one can love you as much as I do. I love you so much I am surprised by how my body is able to keep it all inside, how it is not seeping out of every pore. Ew that sounded so gross.” Another chuckle. “But baby, I do. When they find my skeleton, years from now, they might not know my name, how I died, how old I was but they will know I carried the biggest love there ever was, carved inside my bones.
“I hope one day I can say these to your face, while looking into your eyes as well. Thank you for letting me love you Hen. Good night.”
A strong arm snakes around his waist, holding Henry in his place as if he could move after the confession he just heard, and Alex closes his eyes, his eyelashes tickling Henry’s neck. With the strong heartbeat of Alex, beating against his back, he just stays there.
Sleep doesn’t come for Henry, not really, but neither does movement. Drifting in and out of consciousness all night, he can not get up, pack his damn bags and run away to his sad little palace.
He just lays there as an anchor, weighing Alex down. He doesn’t realize the vast sea of love he feels for Henry will drown him. But Henry can not even move his pinky to save him.
The sun starts to rise, filling the room with golden rays, yet Henry just lays there, unable to even pull the curtains closed. Alex stirs behind him, his fingers splayed on Henry’s stomach making the smallest moves there, burning his skin like fire.
When he completely wakes up, Alex takes his hand away, leaving Henry bereft, cold, craving the contact instantly. “Baby, are you awake?”
His jaw feels as if it were closed with a vice, tongue impossibly heavy in his mouth. He can’t even find the strength or will to move his head. So Henry just lays there.
Extracting himself incredibly carefully, the pitter patter of his footsteps comes closer when Henry expects them to get far away. Then without even finding time to shut his eyes, Henry finds a squatting Alex in front of him, looking at him with so much care and understanding he doesn’t deserve, he wants to cry all over as if his tear ducts didn’t already dry out last night.
“Good morning baby.” And the thousand megawatt smile on his face, looking at a useless blob that is Henry as if he’s the most precious thing in the world. “I am going to touch you. Blink once if yes, twice if no. I know talking can be hard.”
Oh what a weak and selfish man Henry is, because he only purposefully blinks once. Two beautiful thumbs sweep across cheekbones, wiping tears he didn’t even realize that were running down.
Alex takes his hand in his own then kisses his knuckles. “I have just a few things I have to do but I’ll be right back sweetheat. Then, if you want to be alone, I’ll give you your space.”
When Alex moves, Henry is faced with the light orange wall, looking at him. He just watches the wall, sometimes closing his eyes, sometimes letting them close, the darkness of unconsciousness taking him.
After some time later that can be minutes or hours, Alex comes back against all common sense. He should let Henry rot here, lay down with his guilt and shame, the weight of what he was about to do and what he couldn’t do, crushing him.
He squats down just as he did before and looks at him with eyes that trigger another wave of tears. “Do you feel like you can talk? Two blinks.
“Can you eat or drink right now?” Two blinks.
“A little water?” Two blinks.
“Thank you, baby. Can I hold you?” That question makes him stop and think, well force his mind to work that has been overtaken by fog. Alex needs to get away from Henry, stop loving him, stop caring for him but he desperately needs Alex.
Henry needs Alex even when he is trying to get over Alex. He needs him like air, filling his lungs.
So he blinks once.
Without saying so much as a word, Alex climbs up on their makeshift bed and holds Henry just as he did last night.
Falling into a restless slumber, Henry wakes up to Alex gently wiping his face with a damp cloth. “Sorry, sweetheart. Didn’t mean to wake you.” A sheepish smile on his face, Alex leans down and places a barely there kiss on the place where he just wiped, looking a little bit guilty like he couldn’t help himself.
Henry hears a faint buzzing, something vibrating in between thin blankets haphazardly thrown on the bed, balled up. Alex scrambles to find it quickly, fishes it out of the pile then places another kiss on Henry’s temple as if he is in no hurry to leave, like his phone can ring thousands more times if it means he can kiss Henry.
“I’ve gotta take this baby I’m sorry. But I’ll be back.”
True to his words, Alex does come back after some time later. He asks Henry one more time if he is still okay being touched, reassures him if not, that is completely okay, wipes his tears then takes his rightful place, shielding Henry from the world.
For as long as they lay there, Henry wishes they could just exist like this. In this pile of mattresses they called a bed, covered by hand knitted thin blankets, without an inch between their bodies.
He feels Alex stir, turn his head away from Henry and whisper some stuff. It requires much existence to understand what’s happening, so he just doesn’t even try. After a while, when soft fingers caress his hair, he finds out what happened.
“Nora, Pez and June left, baby. It’s just you and me- well and my father now. But if you’d like it to be just us, he can give us the space as well.”
The sun is setting when Alex’s phone buzzes again and he makes a move to get up. “Hen, I’m going to go but I’ll be back as soon as I can, okay?”
Henry just stares at the wall, his brain feeling like cotton candy, a blank page with the cursor blinking. He knows if he ever tries to write something, it’ll only come out in the form of pure agony, debilitating pain. This is better. Purgatory.
The mattress dips again, and Henry expects arms wrapping around him but they never come. Alex must have had enough of withering away while on vacation.
“Hi, mijo.”
Oh and if that isn’t the thing that breaks the carousel in Henry’s mind. The song gets distorted, little horses breaking and falling down. Horrible sobs wreck his body. The uncontrollable tremors only stop when Oscar holds him, pulling Henry towards himself and placing his head on his chest.
“This alright I hope.” he murmurs before running his hand through Henry’s hair and letting him cry it all out muffled to his chest. “Cry it out, mijo, it’s okay. I’m here.” For a long while Henry cries there, held together by a pair of arms that carry some of the comfort both Alex has and his dad had. Neither, yet almost just as good as both.
“Alex told me to keep an eye on you while he was out running an errand, but I would have checked up on you anyways. Did you know, sometimes I also get like this.” Henry's sobs subside, but Oscar’s hand keeps caressing his hair. “It first started when me and Ellen got a divorce and Alex wouldn’t talk to me.
“Divorce is not easy, but I was relieved to stop fighting. Don’t get me wrong, Ellen is the strongest woman I’ve ever met and she is the mother of my children, I’ll always love and respect her. But it was a relief saving us both from that marriage.
“I knew she would find someone who would make her happy, bend softly around her in a way I never could. And I really didn’t care that much if I found love again or not. But when I called and wanted to talk to Alex, hearing June say he doesn’t want to talk to me.
“That threw me off of a cliff and I fell until I couldn’t anymore.
“I thought I was doing the right thing, going away silently. Sparing us both the pain of saying goodbye, telling myself I was protecting him by doing so. But I slashed such a scar on him, I’m not sure if it’ll ever heal completely.
“And when the weight of it really dawned on me. I couldn’t get up under it for days. I had too many personal days racked up and my mother made the calls for me. Two weeks, I just laid in bed, only eating when she would bring me stuff, only drinking when she would force me.
“One day when I had enough strength, I said ‘I’m sorry’. And she just smacked me.” Oscar chuckles into Henry’s hair, a gesture so like Alex’s. “She told me to never apologize for being brave enough to feel things. Then told me to do anything I can to make things right with my son. And go to church.” His laughter shakes Henry a little, the movement releases some of the tension he was feeling, his muscles losing their stiffness just enough.
“So feel the things you need to feel, son. And know you have a family who’ll let you feel them. Give you the safety of arms, somewhere where you can feel them.
“Henry I want you to understand I am not trying to take your fathers place, but just letting you know, from now on whatever happens between you and Alex you have a family in me. A papi, a tio; whatever you need. But you have me.
“Also you have a sister in June as much as you have a sister in Bea. Also she might seem a little bit scary on the outside but no one loves as fierce as Nora. I think Leo is just there to adopt any children who are willing to adopt him as well. a
And Ellen… Well you’ll find out on your own through PowerPoint I’m sure.”
And that is too much. It officially tips Henry over the edge. “I wanted to leave.” He confesses, voice rough with unuse. “Alex was about to tell me he loves me, and I ran. I wanted to leave, but the weight of it kept me in place.”
Taking a deep breath, he buries his head to the chest of the man he is confessing that he was about to leave his son. “I can not love Alex the way he deserves, boldly, openly. Loving him is the thing I’m proudest of in this life, but I am not allowed to be happy or proud. My birthright is a country, not peace, not love.
“I thought I couldn’t bear to hear those words. But when he came in that night, thinking I was asleep, he said it anyway. He thought I was asleep but believed I deserved to hear it anyway.”
His sobs rise up again, hiccups taking over his body. He barely hears Oscar's words through his own attempts to breathe. “Yeah he is a stubborn bastard like that.”
He rocks Henry gently, humming something Spanish he doesn’t understand yet still soothes him for a while. “I know it is your family. But I don’t give a flying fuck about your birthright. What I do care about is yours and Alex’s happiness. If he makes you happy, if you feel like he is worth fighting, we’ll all go to war with you. You’ve got an army of us here.”
“I- I can’t ask anyone to fight my battles. Especially ones that are doomed to fail.” But against his words Henry releases Oscar’s shirt he didn’t even realize he was clutching and timidly hugs back.
“Well mijo, we already kind of started without you asking. We protect our own. And please, I’ve watched a white Democrat woman raised by a single low income mother from a Republican state who has a half Mexican family win the US presidential election. Don’t tell me the odds.”
They stay there until a rustle is heard. Then Oscar disentangles himself and makes a move to get up. “There is someone who’s wanting to take my place. I’d better let him.”
“Hi baby.” Alex leans down and presses a small kiss on Henry’s hair but doesn’t make a move to lay beside him. “Someone’s here to see you.” The familiar pitter patter of paws gets closer and closer until David jumps on the bed and starts licking the tears that are finding their way down.
“Hen?”
Henry whips his head towards the door so fast after not moving for almost a day, he might have snaped something. “Bea?”
“You didn’t think David flew here all by himself, did you?” Despite her teasing words, her soft smile warms him from the inside. “Alex needed a few supplies delivered, so I obliged.”
“I’ll let you guys talk. I have groceries to put away anyways.” Alex leaves after placing a lingering kiss to Henry’s hair, his neck then his temple.
As soon as they are alone in the room, Bea wraps him in a hug, holding him the way she did when they were kids. “That boy is so in love with you, it makes him crazy.” She giggles in between them as if they were normal siblings gossiping about Henry’s highschool crush and not literal royalty managing one of Henry’s depressive episodes in the US President’s ex-husband's lake house.
Knowing how Henry got when he was like this, Bea just carries the conversation with practiced ease. “After Alex called me to ask how he can get his hands on Jaffa Cakes, Cornettos and David -which is absurd because surely there must be some stores that sell British goods but David-
“But anyway after that phone call, I got a text from June saying she just got a call from her very frantic mother asking if there was a chance you and Alex could be getting married in Atlantic City- and wouldn’t Nevada be closer than New Jersey. Because apparently Alex was asking her about the consequences of you applying for US citizenship…”
Growing up, Henry had never been inside of an arcade, but the little slots on consoles giving out an insane amount of tickets all at once, everything Bea said makes him feel like that, but instead of the arcade console, it is Henry’s brain and instead of going out, it is trying to come in. “Slowly please.”
“Alright.” This time Bea speaks at a lower volume, using a hushed tone and explaining everything.
“Alex called me early in the morning, believing you were having one of your bad days, and asked what he could do to make it better and if you would want something other than Jaffa Cakes, tea and Cornettos. Which I replied with David, jokingly. And he nagged me until I agreed to come here and bring David with me.
“We lied and told the palace you caught something eating foreign food and needed at least a week to recover- don’t look at me it was his lie, he thought it was funny. And we’re making a large donation to a nature preservation and global warming foundation to offset my carbon emission. Apparently your boyfriend wants to leave a good world behind for your kids, his words not mine.
“Then June texted me, which was unexpected because we just had our weekly ‘Big Sisters Being Done With Their Little Brothers But Affectionate’ talk just yesterday, and told me her mother called freaking out because apparently Alex asked if there was a way to make you a US citizen and what the consequences of that would be.
“Ellen thought you guys were getting married in Atlantic City, and everyone suggested Las Vegas would be better, which is an irrelevant detail but still. So she called mum. The result of that made for a very awkward conversation between her and I. She expects a call from you sometime by the way, confirming you in fact are not married to your boyfriend whose mother is the President of the United States of America.”
She places a gentle kiss on his nose. “Now do you wanna watch Bake Off while eating ice cream and petting David or tell me why you went down a spiral and decided to break up with Alex just as he was about to profess his undying love for you?”
“Wh-what?” He splutters for lack of better response.
“Alex is more perceptive to you than you realize.”
Drained from his conversation with Oscar, Henry can not find it in him to even answer, so he just shakes no and snuggles further into his sister. “Message received loud and clear. Let me fetch the ice creams then we can set up your laptop.”
Just as she’s about to walk out the door, Bea turns her head towards him. “Do you want me to get Alex too, or be just the two of us? Nod once for Alex, twice for us.”
The familiarity of Bea’s question to Alex’s knots something inside of him. The unconditional love they both have for Henry, the utmost care they both show; it steals his breath away.
Henry thought about breaking Alex’s heart, his own heart, even risked death to protect Alex. Never once it occurred to him that there was a clearer answer, it required more courage, more discomfort but the option was there. To fight for Alex.
So he nods once.
Bea comes back alone and takes the spot closest to the wall, rolling over Henry, then hands him his cone. Her eyes look glassy, filled with unshed tears. “Oscar is cooking us dinner in case you want some. He asked me what my favorite dishes were then called me mija. They really are something else, huh Hen?”
Alex joins them in a few seconds, plopping down on Henry’s other side. Smushed between the two people he loves most, Henry feels maybe he can face the demons. Even before they get to showstoppers, Henry feels a mop of brown curly hair tickling his neck, soft snores coming from Alex.
“He hasn’t slept since yesterday.” Bea whispers, hugging Henry’s arm, resting her head on his other shoulder. “He really was worried he accidentally pushed you too hard and ruined things between you two, and worse, made you depressed.”
How can Alex who did nothing but be wonderful, kind, generous and love Henry, feel guilty over everything. Once he thought if Alex loved him it would set him on fire but he never could have imagined it would scorch him this deeply.
Silent desperate tears cling to his lashes. “I’m burning.” It won’t explain anything to Bea, he’s not sure if it makes any sense to him either but he does feel like he’s burning.
The force of Alex’s love was like a little match being lit, back in the Red Room. That spark lodged itself in Henry’s solar plexus, slowly but surely taking over his entire body, with each kiss, each text, each phone call.
Every sign was there, unwritten in between written words, in the way Alex looked at him, in each fingertip grazing his cheekbones, each kiss left lingering, in each thrust of his hips there to leave a trace inside of Henry, each good morning text, each yearning goodbye through FaceTime.
Every one of them made the flame grow, raising the temperature so slowly Henry didn’t even realize what was happening until he was burning, flames blazing every inch of his existence.
“I can’t handle his love Bea. The intensity of my feelings were something I could handle. I handed over my heart to him in Rio, my body in his room in the White House, and my soul in Paris.
“Nothing that surrounded me this solidly has been good. It was sadness and grief, anxiety and expectations, years of history bearing down on my shoulders. I expected my love to consume me as well.
“There was supposed to be an expiration date to his affection, the fire in his loins was surely bound to simmer down. He was going to get tired of me, leave me and my sadness. Have his fill and find something better, something worthy of him.
“But he had the audacity to love me back. I can shove pain down inside of me, lock worry up, brace sadness and function. I don’t know what to do with hope, Bea.”
He wanted to ball up and cry, hug his knees to his chest but he had to move Alex sleeping on his shoulder in order to do that and Henry would rather chop his own arm off than wake the love of his life who needed the rest.
“Oh Hen, you can just trust Alex. I get you are afraid of falling. But, love, if he is holding your hand he’ll keep you from falling. Or worst case scenario you both will take a tumble. And look at what happened the last time both of you stumbled.”
Older sister wisdom was like a chicken noodle soup, warm with magical healing powers.
“I made June, Nora and Pez leave.” He confesses in a small voice. “I ruined their vacation as well.”
“Henry for the love of god, what are you talking about? They are at a concert in Austin right now. They’ll spend the night at their old family home and come back around noon.
“They just wanted to give you guys some space, don’t act like you left people homeless. I get as the youngest gay child you have to be dramatic by nature but don’t you think this is too much?”
Her teasing tone then shifts to something much softer. “That is what family does, Hen. They make sacrifices and keep you safe and happy.” Between the safety of his old and new family, Henry lets sleep take him.
In the morning, he is the first one to wake up. Alex is laying on his chest as the snuggling octopus he is, Bea is on her side with a leg thrown over Henry and Alex and David in between Henry’s legs.
With incredible difficulty Henry manages to get up without waking anyone up and waddles to the bathroom. Ignoring every basic need of your body for a day always comes back to bite you in the butt the next.
He uses the toilet, brushes his teeth and actually finds it in himself to even take a shower. When he returns to the room, Henry has every intention to go back to the makeshift bed and let himself be wrapped up in the yarn of love still soundly asleep there, now Alex sleeping on Bea’s back and David’s head resting on Alex’s butt but his phone starts buzzing.
“Mum?” Not wanting to wake anyone up, he hurries over to the kitchen.
”Hello, Henry.”
For lack of better things to say he asks, a little dumbfounded. “How are you?”
”Well, I was a little surprised since I received a call from my son’s boyfriend’s very concerned mother who is apparently the president of the United States. But given I had been such a horrible mother in the past few years, enough that I wondered many times if I even deserved the ‘title’, it was warranted.”
“Sorry.” He manages because what else can he say to that. “Mum-“ he wants to say it’s fine, shrug it off. He had conversations enough for a lifetime but apparently Catherine is determined.
”Please Henry. I have so much to apologize for. Let me tell you, getting a dressing down as they say, from a woman who can be scary even on the phone was one way to wake up.” The laugh she lets out is the most real one Henry had ever heard since after his father.
”Can I ask you one question?” she sounds unsure, hesitant now, all the levity of her laugh gone. Henry wants to hang the phone up and hide again but he has to start being brave at some place doesn’t he?
“Yes.”
”You didn’t get married, did you?”
An unexpected laughter erupts out of Henry this time. “No, mum, I didn’t.”
”Good, good.” Then she hurriedly adds before Henry has a chance to run with it. ”Not that I wouldn’t want you to get married. You should if you want to. It’s just, I would want to be there with you. And meet your future husband, if you would let me.”
Clearing his throat so he doesn’t sound choked up, Henry hastily wipes his eyes. “Yes, mum. I would love for you to meet Alex.” Footsteps coming from behind has him scrambling to hang up. “I’ve gotta go mum. But I’ll talk to you soon, yeah?”
”Soon.” After a beat she adds. ”Henry, I love you.”
“Love you too, mum.”
It takes a few moments for the owner of the footsteps to enter the kitchen. “Morning, mijo.”
Christ. Henry needs to stop tearing up every time Oscar calls him that. “Morning.”
“Wanna help me cook breakfast?” Without even waiting for a response, Oscar starts pulling ingredients out of the pantry. “Pass me the milk and crack two eggs would you?”
“I-” He shouldn’t feel this embarrassed about lacking basic skills. It’s not entirely his fault, but his cheeks turn red on their own accord anyway. “I don’t know how to crack an egg.” He still takes the milk and eggs out of the fridge.
Oscar gives him a pointed look, he has the same ‘Don’t fuck with me, Fox.’ look as Alex which makes Henry snort a little. -Hopefully thirty years into the future Alex looks as good as Oscar does- Then his face softens in understanding. “Right, the whole prince thing.” He waves his hand in Henry’s general direction.
When Henry fails to move, he beckons him to come closer. “You take the egg holding it like this.” Henry picks up the egg carefully mirroring Oscar’s movement.
“Then you wanna hit it right at the corner of the counter. Not too light, not too hard. Kinda like you’re knocking on a door while holding an egg.” The egg cracks with a soft sound. Oscar takes the other half in his other hand and lets the white and the yolk fall inside of the mixing bowl.
Henry mirrors the movement with precision, successfully cracking an egg for the first time in his life. “No cracks.” He says proudly.
“No cracks.” Oscar pats his shoulder, just as proud. “Now start whisking those and add one cup of sugar once they turn a pale yellow.” Under his guidance the batter is ready in minutes, Henry looking at it in awe.
“Now, ladle one scoop on the griddle. We can normally fit four at a time but given that it’s your first try, lets go two by two, huh? Wait for bubbles to show on the surface. Once it looks like a crumpet, turn it over.”
Two burnt and seven successful pancakes later, Henry is up to three pancakes on the griddle at a time, Oscar making bacon and frying up some pepper on the other stove. The coffee is brewing for when Alex wakes up and the kettle is filled with water for the tea.
Strong arms wrap around him at the same time as a chaste kiss lands on his cheek. “Hmm, this smells good. Dad, where is my boyfriend? You know the prince. The one who can’t cook for shit.”
“Hey!” He might be right, but still. “No pancakes for you if you keep the attitude.”
“He’s doing better than you did the first time.” Oscar points the spatula at him.
With a mock offended look Alex clutches his hands to Henry’s chest. “I was four.”
Once Bea is awake too, everyone gathers around the kitchen island, eating and listening to stories of Alex learning how to cook in his abuelas kitchen. They all do the dishes together while Oscar picks on them; Alex washing, Bea drying and Henry putting them away and it’s all so domestic and natural and happy, Henry can cry.
“Have you seen the pier yet, mija?” Oscar asks when things settle down, offering his arm to Bea.
“No, but I would be delighted to.”
Rubbing his neck, Henry looks at Alex with a timid smile. “I guess it’s our cue, right?”
“H.” Alex cradles his hands, rubbing a thumb over Henry’s knuckles. “We don’t have to… Anything you don’t want.”
“I know, love.” He turns his hands, palms facing up and slots their fingers, pulling Alex towards the porch. “But I think we need to.”
Henry doesn’t let go of Alex's hands even when they sit down. He should have prepared himself better because how do you explain to the love of your life that you are so entirely utterly broken that you almost left him, scarring him once again where he already had scabs.
A big grounding breath later, Henry looks down at their joined hands, he squeezes, needing the presence of Alex even if he decides to leave Henry after hearing everything. “I- I was going to leave.”
Alex keeps looking at him, even without looking Henry knows, he feels Alex’s gaze on himself. But instead of getting angry or yelling, or demanding more explanation, Alex just patiently waits, squeezing their joined hands in encouragement.
“I don’t know how to be loved- anymore I don’t think. I have stuffed every centimeter of my being with such painful memories, holding onto each and every one, locking them up in my mind and body and soul and heart one by one; I ran out of space to hold your love.
“And you love so fiercely, Alex, you do it with your entire being. Like everything you do in life, you also love so competently. You are like a fresh breath of air, cooling and freeing whereas I feel like a library with locked doors, dusting, forgotten.
“For years I hadn’t bothered to open my doors, my windows, let sunshine in. I let all my books collect dust, let their pages turn yellow and wither. You forced yourself in, a draft running through me, swaying my curtains with the wind, flying my dust off. How could someone as sepia as me, afford to be loved by someone as bright as you. I was afraid of breathing you in, fearing that my lungs had forgotten how to breathe.
“So I was going to leave. I was going to leave you, so you wouldn’t be trapped inside of me.”
A wet chuckle escapes Alex, lifting some of the tension. A perfect description of himself, managing a laugh even in complete darkness. “For the record. I wouldn’t mind being trapped inside of you.”
“Don’t laugh, you cretin. I didn’t mean it like that.”
“I know, baby, I’m sorry. Please continue.” He gives their hands one more squeeze, still smiling.
“But you are an audacious bastard who dares to do the most unthinkable, unimaginable- most ghastly things, you went and loved me anyway.
“I was awake when you came, when you told me all the things you said. The weight of your words, the weight of your love, the responsibility of not only holding your heart but also protecting it.
“I couldn’t get up under the weight. I was ready to leave; break your heart, my heart, let you go, let every ounce of happiness go. I thought to myself, I would die for this man. But why don’t I fight for you, if I’m willing to die?
“Wars are fought. Sometimes you win, sometimes you die. If I was already ready to face death, why not go gloriously on the battlefield? I love you so much it scares me Alex.” He finally dares to look at his chocolaty brown eyes. They both have tears in their eyes but Alex is still here, he’s still holding his hand.
“I love you so much, it makes me stupid. I love you so much, I forget all my words. I have loved you since Rio, yet it still makes me dizzy.”
“Baby.” Alex lunges forward and kisses him with fervor, with the desperation of a starving man. After a few seconds he pulls back, the swing wiggling underneath them. Sheepishly he adds. “Sorry, I couldn’t resist.”
“You not only gave my lungs air to breathe once again, but you also have enriched my life in ways which I couldn’t even dare to dream. You made me so happy, even if I never feel the emotion until the end of my days, only use up the one you gave me so far, I still would die clutching a handful of happiness.
“So, Alexander Gabriel Calaremont-Diaz. I love you. And I would like to fight for you and our right to be happy. If you’re amenable, that is.” His voice cracks on the same sentence, uncertainty laced with hope. He is full on crying now, uncontrollable tears rolling down, but Alex is crying as well, his tears dripping down onto their hands.
Alex slowly disentangles his hands from Henry’s and places them on his face. His thumbs sweep Henry’s cheekbones and kisses find every inch of his face. “I love you so much, H. So fucking much.”
Then he looks at Henry, like he’s about to make a confession of his own. “I could kind of already see it in your eyes, you wanting to run away that is. You may not realize it but I can guess what’s going on in that pretty head of yours quite accurately by now.” He gives Henry a pointed look.
“But I also heard you talking to my father. I swear I didn’t mean to, but I just accidentally did.” His shrug feels anything but nonchalant.
“Why didn’t you say anything?”
“Hen, those words weren’t mine to hear. You never intended me to know, not then at least. I would wait and accept what you were willing to give me, because I mean it baby. I love you with anything you’re willing to give me. I love you with things you’re not willing to give too.”
He brings their joined hands on his lips and kisses each of Henry’s knuckles one by one. “I will give you anything you want and take whatever you’re willing to give. I’m all in. You’re it for me, baby.”
The cool breeze caresses both their cheeks, hairs, as they swing together in silence, holding each other until ‘You Never Can Tell’ by Chuck Berry starts blasting off of Alex’s phone, making them both jump.
“Shit baby, sorry, it’s my mom.” He makes a move to stand up but looks at Henry questioning. When Henry makes no attempt to let go of him, he just brings his phone to his ear while returning back to his old position, snuggling closer to Henry.
“Hi, mom- Yeah, we’re good.” He brings their joined hands to his lips, and keeps there, moving their hands from side to side, letting his lips graze the skin. “You wh- Why did you talk to Catherine?”
He looks at Henry with comically enlarged eyes. “Jesus mom, you can’t give my boyfriend’s mother a shovel talk.” Then he mouths a ‘sorry’ to Henry who waves a hand dismissively. He’ll tell Alex it worked out for the best later.
“No.” Goraning Alex throws his head back. “Yes, I promise we didn’t get married. And why would we get married in AC? We’d go to Las Vegas.” He listens for a while, humming noncommittally. “Yes, you definitely will know when I get married. Yes, I swear I won’t go against the Queen. Yeah mom, I kind of guessed Henry technically couldn’t be a US citizen without abdicating, but glad Catherine confirmed. Yes, love you, bye.”
Once the phone is tucked back in his pocket, the uncertainty is back in Alex’s eyes. “Did you mind that?”
There are a million things he could be meaning with that question. It truly is a toss up between calling him his boyfriend, since they haven’t discussed it, Alex being the ball of anxiety he is overthinking it. And Ellen giving an earful to his mother.
So Henry opts out for the third option. “Yes, love.” He only gives a couple of seconds, not risking Alex getting an aneurism. “I’d rather not get married at a 24/7 chapel and have an officiant dressed as Elvis when we get married.”
“You are a fucking asshole, Wales.” Okay he deserves the swatting he gets, but the kisses landing there after is what makes it worth it.
Scrunching his nose, Henry says something he never would ever imagine saying. “Yeah, but you love it.”
“That, I do baby.”