Archive of Our Own ^beta

It’s not that Henry ever felt excluded, per se. It’s just that, when spending time in the company of people who grew up together, you’re bound to stumble upon unfamiliar names and pick up on things along the way. Alex took time to explain to him the references and background information about mentioned people, and both June and Nora remembered to give him some context and keep him engaged in the flow of the conversation.

Still, there were lots of moments when all three of them lost themselves in another dimension, just for their tiny group. When Alex tried to finish his sentence through an uncontrollable laughter with June and Nora talking over him. Or when June slipped into Spanish, giggling and relaxed from sangria and a hearty meal. Nora often started the meetings with a bombshell of updates about things Henry has never heard about, Alex and June immediately excited and asking questions, and then the moment for an explanation for Henry was usually lost.

Henry genuinely enjoyed quietly sipping wine and observing Alex with his closest and most favourite people. The world inside their bubble was so warm and comfortable, it felt good just to be near it. One glance at the trio could tell you they’re a family.

Eventually, topics changed to day-to-day routine, and Henry could participate again. Ellen’s new firm, Oscar’s Senator work, Leo’s new recipes. The first draft for June’s novel that she felt like sharing with Henry. Nora’s flat hunting disaster. The exhibition he and Alex went to the other day for their date. Alex’s cases. The bubble grew bigger and let Henry in, and his inner peace was restored. He just wished he’d always had a place reserved in this bubble.

He didn’t hold it against the gang, either. He was sure he and Pez forgot about everyone around them when talking about their Oxford shenanigans. Bea easily ranted about her bandmates and their plans for hours: newly signed contract with the studio, first album release, gigs and behind the scenes stories. Henry saw her band only a handful of times, yet knew the members as well as he knew his own colleagues that he saw and talked to every day. All because Bea kept him in a loop, FaceTiming him at least twice a week. It came with knowing each other so well, having your lives intertwined. 

The deeper he was falling for Alex, the more he wondered if it was possible for their lives to intertwine just as tightly. 

He had no idea it bothered him that much until the weight lifted from his shoulder a bit.

It was a nice evening with four of them at their favourite Mexican place. They occupied the corner table, ordered their usuals and settled into what-happened-in-a-week exchange. Henry was half listening to Nora, half rearranging the cards in his wallet since the drinks weren’t here yet and he wasn’t actively participating in a conversation.

“... had the audacity to mention that the IT-department had its own kitchen and it was probably me who ate her yoghurt. I thought I’d curse this wet squirrel right then and there…”

“Didn’t Lauren swear up and down she was lactose intolerant when Barry accused her of stealing his cheese sandwich from the fridge?” he interjected, surprising even himself. How did he even know this? 

“See!” Nora exclaimed, throwing her hands in the air excitedly. “Even Henry remembers it, and he wasn’t there! Guess what this cheese-eating rat told me when I reminded her of that damned sandwich? She said cheese wasn’t lactose.”

The table erupted with laughter. Lauren was an unwilling source of many Nora’s work anecdotes. Henry just didn’t know he was so invested in her endeavors he remembered some of them.

“Ok, but get this,” Nora continued. “Talira from sales, the blond Yeti… Henry, you remember Talira?” she suddenly asked.

Henry lifted his incredulous gaze from where he was tucking the wallet back into his purse. If he wasn’t mistaken, it was the first time someone expected a reply from him. “Uhh, the one with a five year old who said your skirt was ugly?” he tried to remember. 

“Exactly, the spoiled brat. So today Talira sends me this shit on Teams, have a look! What’s this supposed to mean?” Nora shoved the phone in their faces, but Henry didn’t see a thing. He was staring at Alex, who was giving him a private smile. The intent stare of his brown eyes, gleaming under warm restaurant light, was doing things with Henry’s insides. 

Alex leaned in, allowing Nora pester June for a bit, and kissed him behind the ear. “Look at you,” he whispered, low and quiet, “knowing all the hot goss”. He sat back in his chair, smirking, but his hand remained on Henry’s thigh, hidden from the view by a tablecloth.

Henry tried to hide his smile in a glass of wine that finally arrived but failed. Though he didn’t feel like he did. 

Since then, it kept happening. 

He ran late to the dinner they had planned in a new Italian place near June’s place of work. One second, he agreed to prolong a meeting about an email about another meeting or something similar. Another, Alex was texting him asking if he was caught up by the wind like Mary Poppins and needed a search party to come fetch him.

Sweaty and heavy breathing, he gracelessly planted his arse on a chair.

“Lost your brolly along the way? Did it get caught up in a tree while you were flying around the city?” Alex teased, helping him to take off his coat and place it on the back of the chair. “Hi, Ms Poppins”, he said, giving him a family-friendly kiss hello.

“Is it a role play where you pretend Henry is a woman?” Nora asked.

“Henry was playing Spelling Bee, and the game didn’t count ‘brolly’ as a word. He was furious and sent the NYT a strongly worded letter . You should've seen his face whilst he was typing. I was trembling in fear. Poor intern assigned to the emails, hope they have some spare pants”, Alex laughed fondly and slid a glass of wine he ordered for Henry a little closer to him.

“What’s a brolly?” June furrowed her brows.

“Umbrella. And you used ‘whilst’ wrong in a sentence, Alex”, Henry sighed and took a sip. The wine was really good. Since when Alex, who preferred whiskey to any other drink, knew how to choose wine? 

“Is it in any dictionary? Let me look it up…” June moved to pull out her phone but was stopped by frustrated Nora.

“Nerdy stuff later! I was waiting for ages until Henry got here to tell you something! Can we focus?”

“Wait, I’m googling how to use ‘whilst’ correctly”, Alex muttered, typing on his phone under the table. 

“Oh, I’m so very sorry”, Henry apologised, “Can it wait just for a moment longer? I’m starving, and this pasta at the table across from us looks top notch.”

“I already ordered for you, baby.” Alex pocketed the phone, patted him on the shoulder and left his arm there, hugging Henry and making him move his chair a little closer. “They said the waiting time would be forty minutes and you weren’t answering my texts. I felt responsible for keeping you well-fed.”

“Oh,” Henry felt surprised but pleased. He never had anyone ordering for him. It felt domestic. It felt like someone cared enough to learn his go-to drink and learn his preferences.

“If you don’t like what I chose, you can eat my food or we’ll order something else,” Alex rushed to add, “I just didn’t want you to wait for another forty minutes when you get here.”

“Thank you, love”, Henry cut him off with a kiss on the cheek and leaned on him slightly, relaxing into his embrace. “I’m sure it’s perfect”. 

“I’m sure you two are sickening”, Nora rolled her eyes with a smile. “Now, Henry, are you ready?”

“I am”, Henry settled to listen. “Were you waiting for me?”

Nora looked at him like he showed them a dishevelled brolly and stated that he did, in fact, fly around the city and was saved by a search party.

“This is an episode of a shit-show that is my job that you can’t miss. Ok, so, have a look at your right, but don’t be obvious about it.” she instructed. “Alex was so smooth he almost dropped a chair. He only didn’t have binoculars and didn’t shout ‘who’s there’, for fucks sake”, she whispered accusingly under her breath.

“I’ve never been subtle in my life”, Alex shrugged his shoulders.

“No, you haven’t”, June snorted.

Henry glanced at his right and saw a couple involved in a heated argument. A blond woman was angrily mumbling something in a low voice, while a man in a badly-tailored suit was flexing his jaws and giving her brisk replies.

“Who am I looking at?” he asked, looking back at a mysteriously smirking Nora.

“Take a guess.”

“Well, that is a blond woman who I’m apparently supposed to know. I remember you comparing the infamous Talira to a horse only a few thousands times. I have to admit, I see the resemblance.” June giggled and extended an arm to clink her glass with Henry’s. “Bingo!” she cheered.

“You saw it too, right? Ok, yes, bu-u-ut… who’s the man?” Nora buzzed with barely contained energy, bouncing in place.

Henry thought about other colleagues Nora has ever mentioned. None of them seemed to be too fond of Talira. He contemplated his options for a few moments until Alex gave him a tip. “Think wider, baby. It’s a crossover.”

“I have no idea.” he surrendered eventually. It felt nice to know that even if he didn’t know the answer, he’d find it out in a second. 

June leaned in and whispered, “It’s a guy who’s in charge of a politics column.” June’s job at ‘The Advocate’ wasn’t quite as gossip-worthy as Nora’s, but people are people. They have a tendency to do something weird in every office on a planet, even if this office is a respectable magazine.

“Rasul?” Henry asked incredulously. “How on earth did they meet?”

“You’re asking the right questions,” Nora nodded and dived right into the scraps of the story she managed to gather around the office, June offering her input here and there. 

“Be careful with your brolly, Mary,” June gently teased him when the food arrived. Alex, as expected, made a perfect choice and got another kiss for it. “The council starts according to the schedule.”

“You’re not allowed to speak up as often as the senior members but your input is appreciated,” Nora managed to say with a mouth full of risotto. 

“Don’t worry, babe, I know them for my whole life and still not a senior member,” sighed Alex.

Henry was happy to be included at all, senior member or not.

A few days later, Henry made himself get out of bed, leaving a warm and pliant Alex to sleep in peace. David almost woke Alex up by furiously licking his face. Henry managed to get his attention with the magic words ‘dog park’ before Alex’s sleep was cut short. As he left the building, his phone came to life.

“Good morning, June,” he greeted in a worried tone. David happily trotted by his side, probably daydreaming about the games he’s gonna play with his furry mates once they arrive at their destination. “Everything’s alright?

“Yeah?” June said uncertainty. “Of course. Why wouldn’t it be? Nora’s in a zone, they have a big presentation coming up, and Alex isn’t answering his phone. I thought maybe I won’t bother you too much? I’ve just heard back from my editor and wanted to talk about it with another living soul. Oh, I’m so sorry! I didn’t even ask if you had time for me. Feel free to tell me to piss off.” Judging by the sounds, June was making breakfast. Henry knew June was only calling him because Alex and Nora were unavailable, but to be fair, June wouldn't be his first call either. In any situation that isn’t June-related. Besides, he really wanted to find out what the editor said.

And, to be completely honest with himself, he really wanted to bask in the feeling he got by casually talking to the sister of the man he’s co completely in love with. Chatting with her while she’s making pancakes and he’s walking David. Just the two of them, without his boyfriend or a chatty Nora as a buffer.

“Tell me everything, then,” he finally answered.

“Thank god,” June whispered and got to it.

Around him, there was an ordinary day. A nice one, sunny and without a trace of wind, but nothing unusual. Dogs were barking and chasing each other, the owners were keeping an eye on their pets but otherwise minding their business. The guy from an ice-cream kiosk already knew Henry’s order, banana with a caramel syrup.

But that was around him. Here, where his phone was placed to his ear, he felt a bubble growing. The very same he observed from the bleachers just a month ago.

“We should do it more often,” June said.

They talked about the editing of her draft, his new article and a deal for a third poetry book. Discussed David’s sudden aversion for his usual kibble and Alex’s habit of not closing the toothpaste tube. Gushed about yesterday's bizarre round of ‘Connections’ game and Ellen’s new obsession with the song ‘Tuta Gold’ which was entirely Alex’s fault since he was a die-hard Mahmood fan. June finished cooking the pancakes long ago, ate her breakfast, did the dishes and even cleaned the oven. Henry was already going up the stairs, getting to his floor.

“Absolutely. Call me any time, June. It was entirely my pleasure.”

“I’ll definitely take you up on this offer,” June heartily bid him good-bye and hung up.

Alex was still spread out in the bedsheets. Henry, not wasting a second, laid himself on top of this gorgeous, stunning man and breathed in the smell of his own shampoo on the dishevelled curls. Alex cracked an eye open and smirked lazily at him.

“The best morning view,” he rasped out, voice still rough with sleep. “Had a nice walk, darlin’?” 

“Indeed I had,” Henry rubbed his nose along the stubble-covered jaw and sighed contently.

“You sound too excited for a boring stroll in a dog park at nine in the mornin’,” Alex grumbled. “Should I follow you every time you leave the house?”

Henry snickered. Alex’s phone lit up on the bedside. His ‘do not disturb’ mode turned off at ten o’clock. Alex glanced on the screen and tried to sit up with a worried expression on his face.

“June called and texted me like fifteen times,” he said. “Lemme check on her.”

“I just talked to her for no less than an hour and a half,” Henry calmed him down and hid his face in Alex’s neck. “She’s perfectly alright.” 

“That long? What the hell happened?” Alex tangled his fingers in Henry’s hair and rubbed his scalp. Henry was going to start purring any second now.

“Why does something have to happen for me to talk to your sister? We just chatted,” Henry muttered, despite asking June the same question a short while ago. It was then. Now he lived in a reality where there needn't be a specific reason for him to have a conversation with June Claremont-Diaz.

“Fuck, I love how close you’re gettin’”, Alex groaned, tugging at his hair. “My favourite people like each other. I’m living a dream. Baby, tell me everythin’ you talked about,” he demanded, trying to look at Henry’s face. 

“Your habit of not closing the toothpaste tube,” he snickered.

“Trashing me behind my back?” Alex murmured into his neck, already covering it with open-mouthed kisses. “This is gettin’ me going. What else?”

“Cleaning hacks…” 

“Okay, still hot, but maybe think of something not cleaning-related?” 

“Your mom…”

“A-and that’s enough talking,” Alex cut him off, moving down the bed to have better access to Henry’s joggers.

Henry was used to something bothering him and not letting him enjoy life fully. Since he cut ties with Mary Mountchristen and fled to another continent to get away from her despotic and controlling monstrous nature, he was in therapy. Which, oh. It was magical. Deeply uncomfortable and vulnerable at the beginning and freeling once he got the gist of it.

His therapists encouraged him to try numerous exercises to help with bottled up anger. At first, pillow-hitting and screaming into the sky with Pez, who got him hammered and drove them to the countryside where Henry could let himself let loose, seemed savage. Bawling ‘I threw your shit into a bag and pushed it down the stairs’ in a car felt almost like vandalism. Writing letters to people who did him wrong and telling him off made him feel like a little kid demanding attention. And then it changed.

One day, he wrote a letter addressed to his Grandmother. It was one of many, though the first one where he was accusing her of not letting him choose the path he’s always wanted to take. He thought he’d thrown it away until it caught his eye a week later. He re-read it and found the letter not as childish as he previously believed. Instead, it was sad and mourning.

Cassie, his therapist, pointed out that he can’t mourn a career path he could still take. Bless her soul.

Long story short, the editor in the publisher house he worked at found his poems worth paying attention to. It took him some time to properly organise the material he had. Tons of poetry that were previously collecting dust in old diaries and notes on his phone.

Indulging himself might have been one of the biggest mistakes he ever made. Looking at the signed deal and shaking hands with his own publisher made him hungry. Turns out, he was allowed to want things. More than that, with some effort he could actually get them. It was accelerating. Addicting in the worst way possible. Henry couldn't stop wanting.

Classy designers used to decorate his room from the moment he was brought home from the hospital. Posters were deemed nonsensical. His weak attempt to ask for Lego sets he could keep on his bookshelves proclaimed infantile. So, when a nice design caught his eye on Pinterest, he lost his mind. Good thing Pez was more than ready to accompany him to Ikea. Henry had a moodboard and his own adult money now.

The barber refused to cross the line drawn by Gran. No colour hair, no ‘unkempt bushes like a porcupine back’. No piercings. Until the day Henry gathered the courage to call the salon three blocks away. Barbara, the lady who did his mullet and dyed his hair brown, called him a ‘cute babe’, so there. He wasn’t sure he heard her correctly because of the cigarette she had in her mouth the entire time, but the piercer he visited a week later agreed with Barbara. Henry knew that Mary had people following his social media and hoped she had a coronary when she saw a dangling pearl earring in his ear.

The clothes in his wardrobe were chosen and bought by the designers. Gray, navy blue, sensible forest green occasionally. Shirts, three-piece suits. Hangers with the same bland clothes that changed only their size as he was growing up. The desire to print out a picture of the yellow purse Bea got him with money she earned with her first gig and send it to Mary  was so big he barely suppressed it. Shopping proved itself an enjoyable past-time as Henry was buying things he truly liked. Now Henry’s closet was full of clothes he loved and enjoyed wearing. Perhaps he wasn’t as adventurous as Pez and wasn’t dressing up in feathers, but he still could call himself experimenting and even daring.

The more wonderful things he got, the more he wanted. Every time he saw something he liked, a little greedy voice inside him took off like a siren. When he saw a gorgeous stranger chatting to the kids at Pez’s shelter, making them laugh and talk over each other to get his attention, the siren was so loud he almost went deaf. Henry realised he wasn’t just watching the man anymore when it was too late. He was already awkwardly introducing himself and slipping into a posh accent he managed to drop in New York, as he always did when he felt nervous. Cassie deserved a fruit basket and a wedding invitation. Without her and her exercises Henry wouldn’t be brave enough to want Alexander Claremont-Diaz.

Alex happened to want him back. Which brought Henry to this moment. A dull, windy morning at Alex’s kitchen. The love of his life was dancing around the room, swaying his hips and moving his shoulders. He was muttering along the lines of the song coming from the speaker, otherwise engrossed in a conversation with his dad. The call was put on speaker so Henry could hear both of them. The only problem was the language barrier.

The Spanish thing was really getting in Henry’s way. Everyone in Alex’s social circle spoke fluent Spanish and frequently slipped into it mid-conversation. Except Henry. Recently, he wasn’t known for being okay with having something in his way. The only way out of this was to learn the language. Tutors managed to get French into his head, so how hard could it be?

Paula, his new Spanish teacher, laughed when he told her as much, though not unkindly. She pointed at the only vacant seat in the class, next to a smiling old lady. Other people in the room looked like they were held at gunpoint and didn’t want to be there, so a surprisingly toothy smile felt like a ray of sunshine in a dark mouldy cave. He made his way to the lady and sat on a wobbly chair.

“¡Hola, muchacho!” she exclaimed and looked at him with clear green eyes. He immediately felt at ease next to such a bundle of positive energy.

“Umm… Hola?” he offered. It seemed to satisfy his new deskmate. Her smile widened and she eyed him from head to toe.

“What a handsome young fella!” she said. “We’re gonna learn the tongue in no time together, you and me!” Henry couldn’t quite place her southern accent, but something about it sounded so like Alex’s when he was relaxed. It was a comforting and familiar drawl. The nervous mood seemed to back off and he smiled back.

“Before I learn the tongue, may I learn the name of my beautiful companion?” he asked.

“Oh, aren’t you a darlin’!” she laughed. “Call me Charlotte, you outrageous flirt! Wait til’ my husband hears about this!” Henry blushed and scratched the back of his head, which seemed to amuse Charlotte even more. “What’s your name, sugar? What brings you here? Tell me everythin’!” 

While Paula was preparing for the lesson, Henry and Charlotte had a nice talk. He found out that Charlotte’s granddaughter was betrothed to a Mexican girl who didn’t know a word of English. It seemed like Charlotte and her husband Sebastian were the only family members invited to the wedding, but he wasn’t given the details. Sebastian was decent at Spanish, so Charlotte signed up for the class by herself. She cooed at the pictures of David and made remarks so filthy once she saw Alex, that the whole class demanded to see. When everyone expressed their opinion on his reason to learn Spanish, he was beet red and regretted his decision to not just take an online course. 

“Pay attention, then.” Paula smirked. “And soon we’ll see just how motivated this man makes you.”

Turns out, pretty fucking motivated. Oxford education and numerous tutors made him a responsible and determined student. And Alex made him desperate and hungry in ways so deep he didn’t even want to reflect on it.

Henry’s notes were impeccable. He practised every day, watching Spanish cartoons for children with subtitles on his lunch break. Charlotte didn’t give him a chance to leave the class without her number and a promise to come to dinner (he really wondered if Sebastian was going to have words with him). Sebastian turned out to be not only a perfect gentleman, but also a wonderful “language buddy”, as Charlotte wished to call it.

“Who’re you textin’?” Alex plopped on the couch next to him and tugged him closer by the shoulder. “You look like you won a lottery or somethin’”. 

“Just Charlotte.” Henry tried to subtly hide the phone. Alex really didn’t need to see the Spanish memes Charlotte kept sending him. No one in decent society would feel the same after this kind of language practice. 

Alex remained quiet for a minute. Henry noticed the unusual silence and glanced at the gorgeous, freshly showered man next to him. Christ, he was so in love, he felt like he could learn every language on the planet if it meant he could talk to Alex more.

“You’re still gay, right?” Alex asked hesitantly. Henry wasn’t able to contain an ugly snort.

“Love, not only I’m gay, I’m also quite obnoxiously in love with you.” He leaned in and left a soft, warm kiss on Alex’s lips.

Alex, surprisingly, didn’t make a move to kiss him back. Henry moved away and was met by searching brown eyes, questioning and hopeful.

“Do you mean it?” Alex asked in a levelled tone, still frozen in place. Henry furrowed his brows, trying to think of a reason for this question. What did he say? “The,” Alex coughed and looked at the floor. “the thing.” 

Oh. Oh . He was thinking about how much he loved Alex and then just said it out loud like it was nothing.

Henry tried to think of an exercise that could help him not to run to the North Pole right that second. Alex’s face didn’t betray anything. Was it too soon? Too much? Did Alex even want something serious with him? They were exclusive and everything, but… but…

Suddenly, he thought of his Spanish class. If they found out he was too much of a coward to tell ‘the hottie in his phone’ he really, really loved him, they would probably burn him at the stake. If they felt generous, that is.

So he gulped and braced himself for whatever was to come next.

“I’m so in love with you, Alex, that sometimes even looking at you hurts.” He said and held his breath. Will Paula at least not let everyone egg him? It had to be not only embarrassing, but also painful.

The closed expression on Alex’s face was slowly broken by a tentative smile. 

“You know what's crazy, baby?” he whispered and pulled Henry closer by the waist. His large, hot hands felt amazing. Henry barely suppressed a shiver, or at least he thought he did until he saw Alex’s smug smirk. Alex pressed their foreheads together and softly brushed his nose against Henry’s. “Ask me what.”

“What?” Henry breathed out, looking at the tantalising grin right in front of him. Alex wetted his lips, knowing full well what he was doing.

“I love you too. Like, I’m crazy about you, baby, you have no idea.” Alex squeezed Henry in his strong arms, making him practically tremble, and whispered in his ear hotly. “I want you close, like, all the time. Not in a creepy way, just like making you breakfast and, like, dinner, and– should we move in together? Like, if you’re up to it. No pressure. Like at all.”

What started as a promising beginning of a furious post love confession make-out quickly became a blabbering anxious rant on Alex’s part. Henry rushed to cup his face and brush the still wet curls from his forehead.

“Shh, shh, love.” he tried to calm him down and peppered his temple with kisses for a minute until Alex’s breathing came back to normal. “Isn’t it too soon for that?” Henry asked, keeping his tone neutral.

“But we love each other.” Alex countered in a small voice. 

Henry couldn’t help but smile. “That we do, love. No doubt there.”

“So we should live together. You, me and David. We can have people over and shower together and cuddle on the couch after work and do grocery shopping together, and– did I say cuddle on the couch?” Alex started to jabber again. Henry kissed his shoulder hidden under a washed-out t-shirt and nuzzled his neck.

“My apologies, I didn’t quite catch that… Did you want to have people over and shower together with them?”

Alex clicked his tongue. Henry snickered. Shockingly, thoughts of the holiday on the North Pole didn’t cross his mind again.

“I believe there is an undeniable logic in your words, dear.” Alex perked up like a giant puppy and looked at him from under his eyelashes. “People who love each other should definitely live in close proximity to one another.”

“You talk like a crazy person, baby.” Alex sighed and held him tightly by the hips to cover his cheek and neck in sloppy kisses. “You’re lucky you’re so fucking pretty and I love you lots.” Henry giggled at how slurred Alex’s words became. It seemed like he was just as happy as Henry was: his accent always became much more prominent when he was relaxed and content.

After they ‘rolled around in hay’, as Alex called it (and he was the one who talked like a crazy person?) when he let David back into the living room to ‘spare him the knowledge of what his parents were up to’, Alex offered to watch the telly for a bit before going to bed. Henry didn’t participate in choosing the channel. He was, one, still hung up on Alex calling himself David’s parent. And two, was mindlessly watching Alex ordering a bunch of carton boxes for his stuff.

“What do you wanna watch, baby?” Alex glanced at him fondly and gently rubbed the inside of his thigh. Henry felt ready to melt into a puddle of sticky ice-cream.

“Actually,” he felt like it was a great opportunity to mix education with some bonding experience. “Can we watch a Spanish soap opera?”

Barbara, who fixed his hair the other day, claimed that she learned Spanish by watching dramatic love stories while doing hair at the salon for hours and hours every day. Henry had his suspicions about her Spanish vocabulary quality… But then again, he should use every source of information available to him.

Alex stared at him incredulously: “What now?”

But Henry had already taken a remote from him and was looking for the right channel, all excitement.

“You will have to translate some things to me, but I think I’ll get the gist of it.”

The people on the screen acted crazy and were animatedly yelling at each other. Henry felt like a cat mesmerised by a Christmas tree. He’s been learning Spanish for two months now and could understand a few words here and there. It felt surreal because the only people he’s been practising with were his classmates, Paula and Sebastian. And Paula's teenage son who was commenting on his every Instagram story since Paula didn’t have an account but wanted to keep an eye on Henry. Henry didn’t get how it meant Eloy had to drag his outfits through dirt using solely teenage Spanish slang, but didn’t argue.

He felt an intense stare on him and finally blinked. Alex was watching him like he couldn’t figure him out. Henry always thought of himself like an open book. 

“What?” Henry asked, moving closer and laying on top of him. The warm solid chest felt better than any pillow. He allowed himself to also hook a leg around Alex. It was incredible to be able to grab him like that. Have Alex to himself and not let him go anywhere.

“Nothing, baby”, Alex hugged him tightly and kissed the top of his head. Henry felt Alex sniffing his hair and wrinkled his nose with a laugh.

“You’re like an overgrown puppy.” He let Alex know.

Alex hummed in response. He was mostly silent for the rest of the evening, but readily translated everything Henry asked him to. Henry found himself being deeply invested in the storyline and wanting to find out who sent Angelina a note with a threat. Alex, miraculously, was the one who called it a night. Henry whined in response which only made Alex look at him like he wanted to eat him alive, and drag him to the bedroom.

“What was that about?” Henry asked, languishing in bed after some more ‘rolling around’ or whatever it was. After a few bind-blowing orgasms he was willing to call it anything.

“Nothin’. Just love you.” Alex finished cleaning up and crawled under the covers. “Want to sleep with you every night like that.”

“Insatiable animal.” Henry commented. Alex scooped him up in his arms and breathed deeply, like he couldn’t help himself.

“Just love you.” He simply repeated. “And I meant in the same bed. Do you think we can move your stuff next week? I’ll take a day off or something”. 

“Sure, darling”. Henry kissed Alex on the chest and closed his eyes, feeling absolutely and incandescently happy. “I love you too. I’m happy I didn’t book a ticket to the North Pole,” he murmured, half asleep.

Alex stayed silent for a minute. His hand was drawing slow, wide circles on Henry’s bare back.

“Don’t choose the North Pole, baby.” he finally said, voice muffled by Henry’s hair. “I might not be able to find you before the polar bears. Go to the South Pole at least, how does that sound? You can party with penguins while I’m searching the world for you.”

Henry smiled at that. A warm feeling in his chest felt like a huge firefly. How is that possible, being affected by another person so much you can’t breathe sometimes?

“Do we have a deal, baby?” Alex insisted, nudging him slightly.

“Yeah, deal.”

Alex was always very particular about the deadlines. Henry really should’ve known Alex wasn’t joking with this “next week” remark.

The rental agreement Henry had with his landlord, John, was half-legal and definitely wasn’t a rental agreement on paper. It was the first place Henry managed to find when he moved to New York. It was cheap, and the landlord contacted him precisely once to ask for a picture of David when Henry adopted him. Alex was dealing with John now, professional and strict, like a true lawyer.

Henry first walked into this apartment with a carry-on bag and a tiny suitcase. Now, he was looking at fifteen boxes and six huge trash bags filled with the contents of his closet. He should’ve probably felt intimidated and embarrassed, like every person who realises they buy too much stuff. Henry felt quite the opposite. Pride swelled in his chest. The feeling of belonging hugged him like a blanket. He did it, he really did it. Fled the country with nothing but two shirts that he loathed and wanted to burn, and built a refuge from scratch. With clothes he loved and wanted to take with him to a new home, with lovely pottery and nice embroidered cushions he thrifted.

That’s how Alex and Oscar found him. Taking pictures of his stuff to send Cassie later, close to tears.

“Baby, you’re ok?” Alex hugged him from behind. The comforting energy Alex always radiated washed over Henry like a wave.

If someone told him a year ago he’d move in with the kindest, most beautiful man on earth who loved him and wanted him, he’d have to call Cassie and cry on the phone with her. Today, he simply sniffed and showed Alex his cheek, asking for a kiss he got right away.

“Yes, just emotional.” Henry nodded and looked at Oscar. The man was watching them with perceptive but warm brown eyes, just like Alex’s. They met a few times when Alex organised dinners for them to get to know each other better, but not in such a domestic setting. “Good afternoon, Oscar. Thank you so much for agreeing to help me.”

“No trouble at all, kid,” Oscar laughed and pointed to the boxes. “Where do you need me? We’ll move you before you even say ‘goodbye’ to this shithole.” 

That was true, the flat wasn’t anywhere near as nice as Alex’s or June’s place. A small, cluttered box with creaking floors and broken ventilation. Some nights, the neighbours were so loud it was impossible to fall asleep. No passive aggressive notes left on their doors helped. The windows were facing the road, so every surface covered dust in no time. The water was mostly lukewarm. Henry had to impersonate a Victorian maiden quite often when he heated up some water in the kettle to wash his hair in a basin. 

Moving boxes was quick, though Alex made it much longer with his chivalrous attempts to not let Henry carry anything heavier than David’s food bowl. Oscar and Henry had a lovely conversation about the upcoming elections and Henry’s new book. Then, Oscar got a message from one of his cousins and relayed it to Alex. Just like that, the two of them were engrossed in a lively loud conversation about Bella’s messy love life. Henry was only half listening to them. He could catch some details (something about attending a wedding with a young arm candy while dating three other men) but didn’t want to intervene.

Oscar rented a truck specifically for this day, which Henry couldn’t thank the man enough for. Alex helped him up the steps to the passenger seat and sat in the back.

“¿Van a vivir en un apartamento?” Oscar asked, waiting for the green light.

“Quiero comprar una casa en un año o dos.” Alex sprawled on the seat like a lazy tiger.

A house? Alex was planning on buying a house in a year or two? Or did Henry just confused ‘una’ and ‘un’, and had to commit a ritual suicide in front of Paula?

“Oye, ¿escuchaste lo de Daniela? Botó al marido de la casa y lo amenazó con divorciarse si no le compraba un carro.”

Alex ugly snorted, which made him look like a cat even more. Oscar rolled the car window and lit a cigarette. The noise from the street filled the car, the humid air felt heavy in the lungs. Henry stared at Oscar, trying to figure out if he heard him right.

“I’m sorry, a car?” he asked.

“No older than three years,” Oscar nodded. 

“Bless her heart.” Henry shook his head and proceeded to look at the window.

He felt as two men next to him shared a look. It wasn’t his ideal plan for telling Alex he was trying to learn Spanish, but then again, it had to be done. Why not soft launch it now?

“Baby, just how much of those soap operas have you been watchin’?” Alex sing-songed. He straightened up and tried to look at Henry’s face. Henry didn’t need to face him to know he was grinning like a devil in a human form.

“A few.” Henry smiled in his fist and turned further away. Alex reached to him from the backseat and left a sloppy kiss on his cheek.

“Is it your guilty pleasure or something?” 

“I mean, you speak Spanish.” Henry shrugged his shoulders like it wasn’t a big deal. Because it wasn’t. It’s just that two times a week, he sat in a room full of people who feared Paula like she could wrestle them for not knowing their prepositions. Spent three hours there, did his homework at home, and did it all again. Christ, the kids at the local library mocked him for checking out children books. Good thing he’ll change the library now.

“Wait, kid, you don’t speak Spanish?” Oscar closed the window and sent him an apologising look. “Sorry, I always forget! I’m used to everyone speaking it.”

“That’s quite alright.” Henry reassured him.

“No, no, pause!” Alex exclaimed and tried to make Henry look at him. “You’re learning Spanish? Like, because of me?"

“What are you talking about?” Henry faked his confusion. “Carmen, the cafeteria lady, gives double portions to those who compliment her in Spanish. I have a healthy appetite and I’m not ashamed of that.” That wasn’t true. There was no one who served food in the cafeteria and the food wasn’t limited, but could a man have some decorum? 

“Will you complement me in Spanish?” Alex asked with a flirtatious smile that always made Henry week in the knees. 

“Eres muy bello,” Henry indulged him and blushed as soon as he closed his mouth. Alex let out an excited yelp.

“Baby! You think I’m beautiful?” he bounced on his seat like an over energetic toddler. Oscar laughed at them like parents laugh at their childrens’ antics. This thought made Henry blush even more.

He should thank Charlotte for the things she sends him, it seems.

Once they were standing in Alex’s living room filled with boxes and bags, Oscar, instead of shaking Henry’s hand, went for a hug and patted him on the shoulder.

“Get settled, kiddo. This has to be unpacked by the end of the month, or you won’t find your swim trunks.”

Henry’s brain short-cut. Has he gone mad from all the languages in his head and stopped speaking good old English?

“I beg your pardon?” he squicked. Alex, standing next to him, was glancing at them back and forth.

“The lake house in July,” Oscar said like they already discussed the topic million times before and not like it was the first time Henry’s heard he’s invited. “Are you planning to swim in this cardigan of yours?”

“If he can’t find his trunks, there’s always skinny dipping.” Alex proudly offered.

The Spanish thing worked even better than he hoped for. The same evening, as Alex was cooking dinner and Henry was looking for a place to set his jewellery box, his phone made a sound.

‘yoooo you know the lingo that’s wicked’ 

‘welcome to the fam hen hen!!!!!!!!’

It seems like Nora not only got a whiff of his educational progress, but deemed him ‘fam’ enough to include in a group chat named ‘on all fours’ with four members in it. June and Alex were also there. 

Yes, that really was wicked.

The boxes were unpacked, the bigger wardrobe was installed in the bedroom. David got his own corner with a nice new cushion. Henry organised a place for himself, a lovely desk near the living room window. There were showers together, cuddles on the couch and plenty of grocery shopping. Henry was living his best life, and Cassie had to sit through his wildly anxious monologues about how easier it would be to just become a monk somewhere in Tibet less and less often.

“Thursday, five thirty pm”, Alex said out of nowhere as they sat down to have dinner together. ‘August Moon’ new song played in the background because Alex ‘vibed with it’, apparently. They lit the candles, found a nice tablecloth and settled for a romantic evening.

“Hmm?” Henry mumbled with his mouth full. Alex was an exceptional cook. His hands were blessed by the goods, it seemed. He never used any recipes and didn’t pay attention to the stove, yet his food was always so delicious Henry asked for more and licked the plate. The latter usually made them cut the dinner short and skip the ‘food’ desert. “I’ll eat another cake, thanks,” Alex used to say with his mouth already on Henry’s neck, hot and wanting.

“June texted she needed to reschedule our weekly dinner,” Alex explained. He didn’t move to fetch Henry a tissue even though Henry could feel the lower part of his face was covered in sauce and his hands were busy with cutlery. He claimed Henry looked like a messy kitten when he ate without pretending to be the Queen of England, and he appreciated the view.

“Oh, I can’t do Thursday evenings.” Henry managed to swallow. This carbonara was truly exceptional. If the lawyer thing didn’t work out for Alex, he could always pull off Remy the Rat. He told Alex exactly that.

“E-e, thanks, baby. The chef's hat would mess up my hair. What’s up with Thursdays?” They lived together for almost two weeks, and the whole time Alex was really busy with the case. He was coming home at one in the morning, showered and went to bed. It was the first real conversation they had in a while. The Spanish class never came up, is all. Henry wasn’t nervous to tell his boyfriend he was taking a whole damn class to learn his language.

“M-m, I have a class.” He busied himself with pasta in hopes that Alex will move on. Classes weren’t exactly out of character for Henrys, since he was a ‘huge nerd, just like everyone else in this family, so only fitting’ in Nora’s words. 

“What class?” Alex asked conversationally. He was pretty handy with a knife and a fork for an American. His long, skilful fingers– “Baby?”

“Agh… Spanish class? I told you about it.” Henry said quickly and changed the topic, “I was thinking of this toy you sent me the link for…”

“Hold it right there, Mata Hari,” Alex interrupted and lifted his hand up to point to Henry with a fork. “Don’t side track, you lil vixen. Spanish class? Explain.”

Henry gulped.

“Well, I thought, why take an online course when I can just have a study group? Good for practice, too.” 

“That’s amazing. Why didn’t you tell me? How long have you been going there?” Alex beamed at him and reached for his hand over the table.

“Three months.” Henry sighed. No wonder the economy is in such a poor state these days. People couldn’t have one dirty secret anymore.

“You’re kidding me!” Alex barked a laugh. “Three months? Why didn’t you say anything? You’ve been taking Spanish classes for three months? ” Henry really wanted to glance at the look on his face but was too busy averting his gaze like a shy housemaid.

“Maybe you should take English classes, you lose the language a bit. That’s exactly what I said just a second ago, didn’t you hear me?” he grunted and picked his pasta with a fork just to do something.

“Ok, I can’t have a serious conversation with you when literally all I want is to lick the sauce off your face and do some filthy fucking things to you.” Alex grabbed a tissue, licked it and held Henry’s chin with one hand while wiping his face with the other. Henry simply accepted his fate at this point.

“It’s, as you say, no biggie.” he said despite having his cheeks squeezed by an American brute.

“No biggie my ass”, Alex whispered, concentrated on the sauce. “So the class? Tell me more.” He said, leaning back in his chair.

“Well…” Henry hesitated. He wasn’t sure Alex needed to know about everyone’s obsession with him. “There is Paula, my teacher. She looks quite strict when you first meet her. Then you get to know her better and realise she doesn’t have a soul and will murder you if you don’t learn all the verbs.”

Alex let out an incredulous laugh. Henry raised his gaze from the sauce stain on the tablecloth and looked at him.

“I can’t believe this. You have a Spanish teacher and you, like, do homework. That’s extremely hot.” Alex was watching him with a crooked smile, the look on his face happy but surprised.

“Charlotte– you remember Charlotte,” Henry felt a bit braver.

“How could I, you never told me who she was.” Alex shook his head. “It’s always the quiet ones, they say…”

“Well, Charlotte is my classmate. She’s lovely. We sit together and sometimes call each other when we need help with our homework. Paula can sniff out cheating like a hunt dog, I swear.” Henry pouted absentmindedly. “Sebastian, Charlotte’s husband, doesn’t help us because we’re ‘two gossips’ and only talk about our classmates instead of Spanish. Like it’s easy not to gossip when Maxim showed up in a floral shirt…” Alex cursed in Spanish. Henry picked up a few words from Charlotte and Eloy, Paula’s son, but this word was unfamiliar. He should probably ask Alex or Nora for a list.

“Jesus fucking Christ. Jesus, Mary and Joseph. Baby, stop right here. I’m hard as fuck, what the actual hell.” Alex shifted in his seat and rubbed his eyes, then took a deep breath. “Ok. Ok. I need a minute.”

Henry fought a pleased smile. Usually it was Alex who made him a blubbering mess. How nice it was, to have the tables turned around like this. Henry decided not to drop it halfway.

“I was really enjoying this pasta. Can I just blow you here so we don’t have to go to the bedroom?” He asked innocently, already moving the napkin from his lap.

“I just almost came in my pants.” Alex's breath clearly indicated he was doing an intense breathing gymnastic with his eyes closed.

Six minutes later, Henry returned to his seat with a smug little smirk on his face. And some cum drops in his bangs, as he later found out when he went to brush his teeth and looked at the mirror. Now, Alex’s eyes flicked to his hair only for a second as he sprawled in his chair with a satisfied predator that just had a feast.

“So. Floral shirts?” He drawled lazily, emptying his whiskey in one go.

“Yeah. So Max has this girlfriend who is a stylist…” 

As they were settling for the night, Henry realised he was still talking. Alex asked questions and wanted to know every detail, demanded to see pictures of his classmates and assured him that outfits that Eloy commented on were really cunty. Though he laughed for two minutes when he saw messages Eloy was sending him.

“Sorry I just went on like that,” Henry felt guilty for hogging the conversation. This dinner was for them to share updates from the last two weeks, after all, not to talk shit about a group of people Alex didn’t even know.

“Baby, this was the best evening in my life,” Alex assured him. He stretched on the sheets, flexing his muscles. Tanned caramel skin looked especially delicious under the night lamp’s glow. Henry felt like something pulled him closer and followed the feeling. It led him to the dimple under Alex’s chest. Henry hummed appreciatively. It tasted perfect. Familiar, delectable, his for tasting…

“I don’t know if that’s the right moment, but where do you stand with student roleplay?” Alex panted, sinking his fingers in Henry’s hair.

On a Thursday afternoon, Henry almost died from a stroke.

‘Ask the Storybots’ was an educational and adorable cartoon, even if Henry still preferred ‘Kazoops’. To be frank, he really enjoyed watching Spanish cartoons on his lunch breaks. He justified it by calling it a language practice, but truly, they were just fun and silly.

As he was going through another episode, a message on WhatsApp popped up. Henry furrowed his eyebrows. He never used this app. The product-manager made him download it some time ago, and then it just stayed untouched on his phone.

He was invited to a group chat with thirty seven members. Was this spam? The chat was called ‘Los Diaz’ and didn’t have the main picture. Instead, there were avatars of many people who Henry never knew nor met.

“Este es Henry. Él es familia ahora.” Alex texted in the chat. Henry clicked at his profile picture and was treated to a selfie with a beautiful sparkling lake in the background and Alex’s tanned, smiling, gorgeous face up close. Henry stared at it for a good minute before saving it to his camera roll and going back to the chat. 

“¿Cuándo es la boda?” Someone with no avatar asked. Henry had to idea what it meant, so he went to a translator. 

And then , almost had a stroke.

What does it mean, when is the wedding going to be? Whose wedding? Was Alex planning to propose? And what does this mean ‘It’s Henry, he’s family now’? Was he?

“Aún no.” Alex simply answered. Not yet.

Ok, so this was a Diaz family group chat. And Alex just implied there was a wedding to talk about, just not yet. No biggie.

One intense panic attack in a bathroom stall later, Henry added his profile picture after spending his paid working hours on carefully choosing the best photo he had. He probably should’ve said ‘hello’ or something, but there was another conversation going already. Another time, then. For now, he put the chat aside.

Who was he kidding? Henry obsessively translated every message. Alex and June didn’t really participate, mostly reacting with emojis from time to time. Oscar sent thumbs up in every situation. Nora said she had this chat on mute. Henry, unfortunately, was too crazy for that.

Mostly, the ones who were sending messages were Alex’s aunts and cousins. There were pictures of food, kids, new hair cuts, and reports from trips. Henry hesitantly reacted to these photos with emoji reactions, trying not to think what emojis to choose. He still didn’t send anything there. It seemed like no one really cared for this chat. Young members never showed up, men weren’t interested. Henry did care and was interested, so there was that.

So this was how Henry found himself standing in the kitchen, hands on the counter, head hung low. These breathing exercises were no joke. If it wasn’t for them, he’d probably throw his phone out of the window and crawl in a deep hole where he would find his eventual demise.

The quiche in front of him looked quite nice. Appetising, even. Why was it so hard to snap a picture and send it to the chat? Nobody will exclude him from the group even if it’s not perfect. Or if the lighting is not that good. For fucks sake.

Get a grip, Henry Fox. Take what you want.

As fast as he could, he took a picture and sent it without a caption. 

This wall was pretty damn beautiful. Should they paint it? White was such a boring colour. Henry grew up in, as the Internet calls it, a beige household. He’d kill for an opportunity to paint the walls in his house. Pink, perhaps? Forest gre–

Bzz.

Thank fucking Christ. 

Bzz. 

Okay, he changed his mind. He didn’t like to be perceived like this.

Camilla sent three salivating emojis and one blue heart. Victoria shared a picture of a plate full of shrimps and reacted to his quiche with a shocked little face.

“¿Sabes cocinar?” María asked. Do you know how to cook?

“Todavía estoy aprendiendo.” He texted back, ‘I’m still learning’ . María told him to send the quiche recipe her way.

Life was amazing.

He set his mind on becoming a Premium member of the chat. Every day, he’d open it, share a food picture or comment on someone’s message. Soon, when the meal sharing process was happening, he was tagged if he didn’t show up on time.

Camilla sent a photo from a hair salon, showing off her new highlights. Henry answered with a selfie from Barbara’s chair (he may have moved, but he wasn’t a cheater, and Barbara was too dear to him to let go of her).

“Baby, you’re causing an Armageddon,” Alex called him in an hour. “Everyone’s calling me to talk about you. I love bragging about pulling you, but like. This is my abuela.”

“What did I do?” Henry stiffened. 

“Showed your pretty face to my whole family,” Alex snickered. “The girls fell in love. You’re a star of WhatsApp, I swear. You don’t have to entertain them, you know? I added you so you could maybe check it once or month or something.”

“Alex, this is your family. I really don’t want to check on them once a month.” Henry answered in a displeased tone.

“Can I come to your office right now and spend fifteen minutes with you in a room with no windows?” Alex asked after being quiet for a minute.

“Dream on,” Henry said, teasing, and hung up.

After a few weeks in a group chat, Victoria added him to a group with only seven members, him being one of them. Oh, he’s so in.

“Bella encontró un muchacho nuevo, tiene como 23 años.” Camilla texted right after he joined. Bella found a new guy, he’s like 23 years old.

Bella was in the main chat. No one discussed her love life, though. Or anything else that could be considered gossip. Henry thought it was because everyone called each other. But now he realised there were just other chats for that.

“¿Tienes foto?” He asked.

Camilla sent a picture. Wow, that’s… a choice.

The girls were a lot of fun. They exchanged recipes, book recommendations, cleaning hacks and, of course, they gossiped like crazy. This chat was much more active. Andrea, Mariana and Natalia never texted in the main group, but here, they were all over the place. Henry found out more about the Diaz family than he knew about his own relatives. His vocabulary skyrocketed, though he doubted these words were suitable for society.

“Mariana is acting weird, I’ve heard”, June brought up on the phone. Henry was doing the ironing while Alex was reading a book on the couch, cuddling with David. June’s voice was loud and bright, flowing from his phone’s speaker.

“How come?” He asked absentmindedly, busy with chores. Nora and June never texted before calling, so he talked to them while doing literally anything. He loved his scheduled FaceTimes with Bea, but this was different, and warm, and made him feel happy.

“I don’t know if you even saw her. She’s never in the chat. But tía Selena mentioned she was moody lately, and I’m a bit worried.” June swore, then asked how much laundry detergent she’s supposed to add for a whole set of new sheets. Henry told her how much.

“Mariana is pregnant,” he said.

“Henry,” June sighed heavily. “I love you, I really do. But please remember that womens’ mood swings are not always caused by periods and pregnancies.”

“She’s literally pregnant. I saw her test like a week and a half ago.”

“What?!” Alex and June exclaimed at the same time. Henry hung Alex’s shirt and moved on to the trousers, ignoring their reaction.

“We’re in the same chat.”

“How didn’t I see the test? Did she send a picture?” June dropped whatever she was holding and picked up the phone to check. 

“No, it was in a different chat. I’m, ahh, in another chat with Camilla, María, Victoria and… others.” He suddenly felt shy. It wasn’t like he intentionally kept it a secret, it just didn’t come up, really. Was it a big deal?

“You’re kidding!” June groaned. “We had a snoop, and I didn’t even know about it! I can’t believe it! Well, spill!!! ” 

So he spilled. When he was finished with the story about Mariana’s secret boyfriend and unexpected pregnancy, ironing was done.

“... so now they’re looking for a flat. Will you be terribly offended if I told you I really have to go?” It was already pretty late, and he didn’t do his skincare routine.

“Wait, but what about the boyfriend’s mom? Didn’t you say she was against it?” Nora asked eagerly. She joined in the middle of the conversation when she realised something worthy of her attention was happening.

“That’s a whole other story,” Henry hummed. “I’ll tell you some other time.” The girls collectively groaned in exasperation. “We will see each other in three days, won’t we?”

Alex dropped the book a long time ago, and was tidying up some clutter in the living room. When Henry left him to go to the bathroom, he looked fully occupied with sorting out CDs. But as soon as Henry got to brushing his teeth, Alex appeared behind his shoulder and found his eyes in the bathroom.

“So what’s up with the boyfriend?” He asked nonchalantly as he pressed his hip against the sink. Henry rolled his eyes and answered with a toothbrush still in his mouth.

“That’s not that interesting. You’ll find out in three days.”

“First, why are you talking with your mouth full? You know it makes me hard in seconds.” Alex pointedly adjusted his shorts. “Second, don’t I deserve some exclusive for being the best BF ever?” He pressed his chest to Henry’s back and hugged him from behind. His lips found the sensitive spot between Henry’s shoulder blades, where kisses always made him shiver.

“Can’t talk with my mouth full,” Henry chuckled, trying not to be affected.

“I can just read it from your phone,” Alex whined.

“Lmao,” Henry deadpanned, which made Alex laugh softly, rich and deep sound. “Boys aren’t allowed. Stay away. There’s nothing for your eyes to see.”

“Last I checked, you were a boy, baby,” Alex whispered in his ear seductively. “And I checked real thorough.”

Henry quivered and exhaled as slowly as he could. Alexander Claremont-Diaz, damn you.

“I’m a part of WAG,” he bent over to spit the paste and rinse his mouth. Alex took it as a sign to press his half-hard dick into Henry’s arsecheek and rub it with intent. 

“Which one, baby?” Henry felt fingers under his jumper, massaging the small of his back, slowly moving lower. “The W or the G?” 

“You tell me,” he managed to get the words out, eyes already closed, fingers holding tight on the edge of the sink. Fuck, he was easy. For Alex, only for him. 

Alex groaned at his words and tugged at the shorts, lowering them to the knee-level.

The question kind of hung in the air that day. A week later, Henry did something he desperately wanted to do since he first saw his acquaintance has done it on Instagram. A picture of his hand with a golden ring shiny and new on his finger, for all his followers to see. His readers, colleagues, Spanish classmates, Paula and her son, Mary’s spies and numerous Alex’s family members.

The girls found out first, obviously. They properly enjoyed the mess in the main group chat.

A fiance status changed his stance with the Diaz family right away. Luis, Camilla’s husband, commented on Henry’s attempt to make a traditional Spanish diner with a message that said he would never eat something looking so sloppy. Alex, who rarely showed up in the chat, appeared all of a sudden and told Luis everything he thought about him and what exactly was sloppy here. Mariana sent a picture of a fat pig and offered to consider a strict diet. María, a woman of a few words, simply told Luis to ‘cállate’ . Camilla kicked out her own husband from the chat and assured Henry that dinner wouldn’t be served for a certain someone that evening.

Nora almost pissed herself laughing when she heard all that. They were at the Italian place they had found ages ago.

Henry was late again. Alex ordered for him without even thinking about that twice. June met him with a bright smile and a signed copy of her book, not even for sale yet. Nora high fived him and said she never likes Luis anyway.

“Luis can go fuck himself,” Alex flexed his jaws and put an arm on Henry’s back to draw wide circles on it, grounding and relaxing. “My husband’s cooking is fucking great. If there's anyone who can have an opinion on it, it’s me. And my opinion is that his food is so delicious no one in the world can compare.”

“Future husband,” Henry corrected, blushing.

“Even better than abuela’s?” June asked with a raised eyebrow and a challenge clear in her voice.

Alex gulped. Threw a glance at Henry. Opened his mouth, closed it.

“Even better than abuela’s,” he finally whispered, cleared his throat and raised his voice trying to be heard through June and Nora’s scandalised yelping. “Let’s move on! Never tell her I said that.”

Henry was smirking so obnoxiously he couldn’t stand himself.

No one noticed how the hours passed. The place was already closing and they finished their conversation while putting on the coats.

“Well, when are you gonna find out about that promotion?” Nora asked while helping June into her leather jacket. 

“In a week, hopefully,” Alex answered in a weird voice. June and Nora, miraculously, didn’t notice anything. Just kissed them both on the cheeks, wished Alex luck and went on their way.

“What was that tone about?” Henry looked at him once June and Nora crossed the road and couldn’t hear them anymore.

Alex took his hand in his and tugged Henry in the direction of their home. He threw back his head to stare at the gloomy sky. One curl slid on his forehead instead of staying where Alex put in with some gel and a hairbrush this morning. Henry couldn’t believe he would marry this man once the spring comes.

“Didn’t wanna tell them yet. That’s for you and me only. I got the promotion this morning, it’s all signed.” 

“What?” Henry abruptly stopped. Alex was already snickering and looking at him, all boyish mischief. “Love, you’re– you– I can’t believe you!” Henry was stuttering now, which made Alex laugh in earnest. 

To stop it, Henry cupped his stupid lovely face and pulled into a long kiss. 

“Will you tell the girls now that I know?” Henry asked as they were nearing their flat.

“Nah, I want to keep it just for the two of us for some time,” Alex shrugged his shoulders. “It’s nice to have secrets, you know? Something for you and me.”

Henry had a weird feeling when they parted with June and Nora. As he was watching his future husband swinging their joined hands and talking about these houses he wanted them to go have a look at, he finally got it. For the whole evening, their table was in another dimension, a bubble for the four of them. When they parted on the sidewalk, June and Nora formed their own bubble, a smaller one, where they were talking about the show they were going to watch before going to bed.

Alex and Henry, walking home and talking about the secret promotion and a thousand other silly things that nobody else would get if they heard it, were in their own bubble. Henry somehow didn’t notice the moment it appeared. Glowing, inviting, Henry and Alex’s.

Cassie, bless her heart, had better accept this wedding invitation once she’d get it.