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Looking For Roommate

2 Bed, 1 Bath Apartment - Brooklyn, NY

Hey! Thanks for clicking my listing! If you’re looking for a roommate to split the rent with, you may have just found your guy! I’m in a bit over my head with rent and would love a roommate, preferably one who isn’t a murderer or something. For more information, email me at [email protected]

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—

Henry sighs and leans in closer to his laptop in a poor attempt at stretching his sore back, wincing as it cracks in response. He’d been apartment hunting for hours , and that was only counting the time he’s put in since he got home from work. Not including the many, many hours he spent searching in the weeks prior. He was beginning to feel a bit desperate if he was honest with himself. There was just nothing working out for him, even though he’d been slowly but surely giving up on what he’d originally wanted in an apartment. 

The first place he’d found ended up being infested with cockroaches – well, that was actually the case with at least half of the places he’d looked at and while that was a dealbreaker at first, Henry had begun to feel his resolve breaking. They’re gross but at this point, they may honestly be a better roommate than a few of the people he’d met with. But then, if it wasn’t cockroaches, it was because rent was too high. And if it wasn’t the rent, it was the fact that pet-friendly apartments were extremely hard to come by and Henry would rather die than live without his beagle, David. He’d rather die than do a lot of things actually, but that was beside the point. 

The actual point was, Henry just could not find a place that he was willing to settle with and it was beginning to take a toll on him. A part of him knew he was being too picky. He could always buy bug spray and fly swatters, could always get a second job, and some of the pet-friendly apartments weren’t awful. But then he remembers why he was moving and he could feel the anxiety welling up in his chest, fingers twitching against the keyboard and leg bouncing up and down as he continues to scroll mindlessly through listing after listing, refusing to take a break. 

Henry needed to find a place as quickly as possible, needed to get out and away from his grandmother before it killed him. But if she ever found out that he was trying to leave, he may not even make it that far. 

Mary Mountchristen was truly an awful woman, and as far as Henry knew, she’d been that way her whole life. Just the thought of her made the hair on the back of his neck stand on end, goosebumps rising on his arms and his breath catching in his throat. 

She was powerful, and many people respected her as the CEO of a multi-million dollar housing company based in New York. Mary had built it from the ground up and it was clear in the way she held herself – proud and headstrong. And despite her small stature, many people feared her for the power she held and Henry was certainly one of them. 

He’d been living with his grandmother for nearly half a decade now, ever since his father passed away from pancreatic cancer and his mother followed shortly after, too heartbroken to live in a world without the love of her life any longer. At first, living with Mary wasn’t too awful. She had been strict, of course, not allowing him to stay out past a certain time and expecting him to take care of all of the chores in the house. That had been fine, he was allowed to live there rent-free, so he was happy to pick up some of the workload. Not being allowed out past midnight had been a confusing change, but he respected her wishes and not once did he break curfew. 

At least, that was until about 2 years ago. 

It had been a late night in June and Henry was returning home late from work. He needed to stay behind and finish unloading the newest shipment of books after a busy day and he hadn’t finished until 11:30 at night, which left only thirty minutes to make a forty-minute trek home. He remembered being nervous, but not overwhelmingly so. He had never been late before and figured his grandmother would be lenient, maybe let him off with a warning. 

Henry could only wish that had been the case. 

That night, he walked quietly into the front door of the house, a grand thing with five bedrooms and 4 bathrooms. He expected Mary to be asleep by the time he got home and, not wanting to wake her, softly shut the door and toed his shoes off in the entryway, picking them up to carry with him to his room so he wouldn’t make noise walking up the stairs. 

Henry only made it as far as the first stair when he felt a small hand grab the back of his shirt and yank him backward with an unexpected amount of force. He stumbled over his own feet and tried his best to turn around without falling. Henry locked eyes with his grandmother and felt his heart drop at the furious look on her face. 

He doesn’t remember much after that, only the sharp pain of her hand hitting his cheek and then – nothing. His memory picks up again somewhere the next day, with him staring at a bruised and teary-eyed version of himself in the mirror. A black eye, red cheeks, and messy blond hair. That was all he could remember and a part of him was thankful. But it hadn’t gotten any better after that, if anything, things had only gone downhill from there. 

His curfew had been moved up to 11 p.m., and somehow, even though he had already been doing all of the household work, Mary had found more and more things for him to do while he was home. If he was unable to complete his tasks when she wanted them done, he would be punished. Though he tended to not remember many details afterward, he would always find new bruises and bumps on his body and felt himself begin to wither away. At the time, he was twenty-three and desperate to keep the roof over his head while he saved up his money. So, he stayed and he took the beatings and kept up with the housework and, and, and– 

And now he is twenty-five and scared to move out in fear of what Mary will do to him if she found out his plans to leave before he was ready to do so. So, there he is, on a day off after finishing his chores, scrolling through listing after listing, bookmarking some, wincing and moving past others. 

He pauses on one; a two-bed, one-bath in Brooklyn that some guy posted roughly an hour ago. Henry clicks on the listing and reads the description, chuckling softly at the request for ‘no murderers’. There isn’t much to go off of besides the few pictures attached to the listing and he purses his lips for a moment before clicking off to open up his email. 

To: alexclaremontdiaz

Subject: 2 Bed, 1 Bath - Brooklyn, New York

Alex, 

Hello, I hope this email finds you well. I am reaching out in response to the listing you posted recently. I am interested in more information regarding the apartment. If you could reach back out at your earliest convenience, I would greatly appreciate it. 

Thank you, 

Henry Fox

He clicks send on the email just in time for the sound of the front door opening to reach his ears. Henry quickly powers down his laptop and slams the lid accidentally in his rush to put it away, startling David who had been asleep at the foot of his bed, and apologises to him quietly. 

Henry stands from his bed and braces himself before exiting his bedroom to greet his grandmother, an expectation placed upon him from the moment he began living with her. Hopefully, today went well for her. Good days for Mary are decent days for Henry and that’s all he could really ask for. 

—

It had not been a good day for Mary Mountchristen, and it ended up being an even worse day for Henry Fox. 

He awoke the next morning with sore ribs and a fresh bruise on his cheekbone. As usual, his memory of the event was blurry at best, but he knew it had been the way he had burnt some of their dinner that had set her off. It was a bad day for her to begin with, but the second the smell of smoke hit his nose while he had stood listening to her rant about ‘dumbass employees and their inability to write a sensible report’, he knew he was in for a rough night. 

David whimpered at him from his spot on the bathroom floor, and Henry glanced down at him. He had gotten the dog six months ago, a present from his older sister, Bea, who had stopped by to visit in between tour stops. She was a part of a pretty successful band, playing guitar and travelling the world with them. They had a tour stop in New York, and Bea paid them a visit with a two-year-old beagle by her side. She wasn’t fully aware of Henry’s situation, nobody was, but she knew that he was lonely and had convinced their grandmother to allow him a dog. How she managed that, Henry wasn’t sure, but he was forever thankful for her. 

He crouched down and rubbed David on his head, knowing the sweet boy could tell just how anxious Henry felt. He paused when his phone pinged in his pocket and he stood up to check the notification, eyes widening a bit when he saw it was an email from Alex Claremont-Diaz. 

Subject: RE: 2 Bed, 1 Bath - Brooklyn, New York

Alex Claremont-Diaz 

To me: 

Hey Henry! Yeah for sure, it’s a 2 bed, 1 bath apartment. Rent is $2,550 a month, split between two people it’d be $1,275 a month. I’ll be honest the neighborhood is a little sketchy but it’s really nice inside, and it does have a balcony. Cats and small dogs are allowed, and I’m personally totally cool with both. I can send more pics over if you want. AC and heat included, and the basement has a washer and dryer. If you want, we can meet up and discuss things if you’re interested!

Alex 

Oh god, okay. Well. 

Henry could feel a little burst of hope flare up in his chest so he quickly responded to the email, confirming that he would love to meet up at Alex’s earliest convenience, shoving his phone back in his pocket and looking back down at David with a little grin on his face, wincing only slightly at the pain radiating from his cheekbone. 

Living in New York, Henry was fully prepared to be paying at least two grand a month, so $1,275 is like a dream. A sketchy neighbourhood is honestly the least of his troubles, especially if David can live with him. He hadn’t found many people willing to live with someone else’s pet, so reading the apparent enthusiasm from Alex has Henry feeling more hope and excitement than he has felt in a long time. 

—

Later on that day, after Henry had finished up with an early shift at the bookstore, he found himself making his way to a coffee shop about five blocks down to meet up with Alex. The man had responded quickly, confirming a time and location and thankfully it wasn’t too far of a walk away from his job. Not that Henry wouldn’t be willing to catch a cab, but he was trying to save money. 

For early spring, the weather was nice enough that Henry was thankful for the time outside. He didn’t often get to go places, normally having to head straight home after work. But today, he savoured the time in the cool breeze and the sun. He worries slightly about how Alex would react to the bruise on his cheek, but there wasn’t much he could do now, only a mere minute away from the coffee shop. 

The bell chimes above his head as he walks in, and he glances around the shop to look for the man described in his last email. A ‘man with dark hair and a white t-shirt and a jean jacket’ was the description given, along with the sentence ‘I’ll probably look like I’m 2 seconds away from vibrating out of my skin because I’m running on 4 cups of coffee and a dream’. Which, Henry questions the meet-up location slightly if Alex has already had four cups of coffee by 3 pm, but who is he to judge, really? 

Soon enough, his eyes fall on a man against the back wall, and Henry feels his eyes bug out of his head for a moment. Oh no. Even just from his side profile, he can tell that the man is easily one of the most attractive guys he’s ever seen and he can feel sweat begin to form on the back of his neck and on his palms. Come on, Henry, don’t be a gay disaster right now , he thinks, wiping his hands on his jeans before approaching the table. 

“Alex Claremont-Diaz?” He asks, grateful that his voice came out steady, despite the nerves building up in his body. The man in front of him looks up from his phone and Henry sees his eyes go wide for a moment before he’s suddenly got a grin so bright and large on his face that Henry freezes in his tracks momentarily. 

“Henry? It’s nice to meet you, man!” Alex says, standing up quickly, and Henry finds that Alex is a few inches shorter than him, a non-important fact, but one that stands out to him. “I’m a hugger, is that okay, or would you prefer, like, a handshake or something?” 

Henry’s eyebrows lift at the question, and he ponders for only a moment before the stupid part of his brain speaks for him, “Yeah, a hug is fine.” 

Alex’s grin somehow gets even brighter and Henry is gone. 

He gets pulled into a quick hug and then the two of them sit down to discuss the apartment. Henry can feel the press of Alex’s chest against his even after they’ve sat down and he wants to shake his head to snap himself out of it but doesn’t want to look legitimately bonkers. So he settles for crossing one ankle over the other and sitting up a little straighter in his chair, ignoring the twinge of pain in his ribs. 

“So! Henry… Fox, right? Cool last name, dude.” Alex says, still smiling. Henry has to wonder if his cheeks hurt from smiling so much. 

“Ah, yes, well, thank you, Alex,” Henry says, feeling heat rising into his cheeks and willing it to go away before he completely embarrasses himself. 

“Of course! Anyway, the apartment. I was so happy someone responded so quickly. I really need a roommate at this point,” Alex pauses and laughs, “I’ve been kind of drowning in bills and this would help a lot. I know I said no murderers but at this point, I’ll take anything.” 

Henry smiles softly, “Well, I can assure you, I’m not a murderer.” 

“Yeah, that’s what a murderer would say, Henry .” Alex grins again and winks at him, and Henry just about dies on the spot. 

“That’s true. But I’m very interested in the apartment, amenities aside, you seem very kind and the rent is perfect, for New York anyway. I will say, I do have a dog. I know you seemed okay with it, but I wanted to run that by you anyway, seeing as it’s non-negotiable for me to be able to bring him with me.” Henry says, biting the inside of his lip anxiously. He’d really hate for that to be a dealbreaker when this is the first opportunity to have gone anywhere so far. 

His worries are squashed when Alex seems to light up, “Ooh! No, man, I love dogs, I don’t mind at all. What kind of dog is he? What’s his name?” His enthusiasm is quite contagious, and Henry finds himself leaning forward a bit, excited to talk about his dog with someone. 

“His name is David, and he’s a beagle.” 

Alex’s face scrunches up and Henry is confused until, “David? What is he, your tax attorney?” Henry’s jaw drops a bit and he responds, indignantly, “He’s named after Bowie, thank you.” 

“Oh, that’s so much cooler. Why not name him Bowie, then?” Alex asks, smile smaller and teasing. The conversation has completely derailed, but honestly, Henry is in no rush. He’s enjoying his time with Alex more than he expected he would. That fact alone gives him a lot of hope that the roommate thing will work out. 

“A bit on the nose, isn’t it? A man should maintain some mystery, I think.” 

Alex’s smile turns fond, “That’s fair, I guess.” 

They both pause for a moment before Alex speaks up again, “God, it makes so much more sense now that I know you’re British. You speak so properly, I was half sure you were, like, a fifty-year-old English teacher, or something.” 

“I feel like I’m being insulted quite a lot here.” Henry quips, laughing a little to soften the statement. Alex’s eyes go wide again and he rushes to apologise, “Oh, god, I’m sorry. I hope I’m not fucking this up. Wait, not fucking – wait, how are you with cursing?” 

“Cursing is fine. I don't tend to curse, but I'm completely okay with it. And, no need to apologise, I was messing with you.” Henry smirked, watching as Alex bit his lip to try and hide his own grin, cheeks flushing ever so faintly. 

“You got me. But yeah, uh, the apartment. I'm happy to offer you the other bedroom if you're still interested. Probably should get to know each other a bit more while we're here, though if you move in I'm sure we'll have plenty of time,” Alex said, a hopeful and tentative smile on his face. 

Henry felt his heart swelling with excitement and relief, “Yeah, I'd love that, Alex.” 

—

They ended up staying at the shop for another few hours, just talking and getting to know each other and before Henry knew it, it was 7 o'clock and time to head home. 

Alex reached out, hugging him one more time before pulling away. They bid each other goodbye and parted ways, numbers freshly added to each other's phones. Henry couldn’t shake the feeling of hope that had found a home in the dead center of his chest, and the seemingly permanent smile on his face was proof. 

After making his way home, Henry entered the house and quickly made his way to his room, knowing his grandmother wouldn’t be home for at least another hour. After greeting David, he checked his phone only to find a message from Alex waiting for him. 

—

Alex 

Hey! Just wanted to say thank u for today and I’m excited for u to move in! 

I completely forgot to mention it but I figured the first of next month would be good if that’s enough time for u? 

Makes the bill situation easier in my head if we start at the beginning of a month lol 

Henry 

Hello, Alex. The first of the month works for me. I can have my half of the rent ready by then as well. 

Alex 

Sounds good! Can’t wait to meet your little tax attorney!

Let me know if u need help bringing ur stuff over

Henry

I will, thank you.

David can’t wait either.

—

Henry winced, not used to double-texting people, but again, Alex’s enthusiasm is extremely contagious and he just couldn’t help himself. Plus, it’s easy to pass off his own excitement onto his dog, pretending as if wee little David, who was completely clueless about their future living situation, was more excited than Henry was. 

The next few days passed with relative ease, Henry finding the excitement of finally having a new place to live gave him the energy to get through his grandmother’s chore list faster than usual during his time at home. With the extra time, Henry began to organise his possessions and get everything packed away. Thankfully Mary never entered his room, finding the stairs a bit difficult to climb in her old age. So, he collected some large boxes from work, leftovers from their shipments that came in daily, and snuck them into his room whenever his grandmother wasn’t home.

He and Alex had met up on the 20th of March, so Henry had eleven days to pack everything, which was more than enough time due to how little he owned. Mary didn’t like clutter, and even if she never saw it, Henry figured she would find out somehow if he collected too many things. The one thing he allowed himself to hoard was his books. 

He had always wanted to be an author, having found his passion for writing when he was young, but found that he loved reading as much as he did writing stories. His collection had become mildly impressive over the years, and although he didn’t have nearly as many as he dreamed of, he still had roughly fifty books to pack away. 

It wasn’t until the night before April 1st that it all caught up to him. Henry had been largely ignoring the anxiety building up in him as the days passed, not wanting to focus on that when he had to organise everything. He finally had everything packed up, the only things that still needed to be put away were his toiletries at that point. 

So, the night before he was set to move, he found himself sitting on his bedroom floor, staring at eight boxes full of his things. Just – staring. For the past two years, all he dreamed of was escaping this house, escaping his grandmother, and now that the time has finally come, he doesn’t know what to do with himself. Every box had been meticulously organised and labelled, stacked and then unstacked, moved closer to the door then moved back near his closet door. He kept fidgeting with everything until he just couldn’t anymore. 

As he kept staring at the boxes, he felt pressure build up in his throat and suddenly, he was crying quietly into his hands, legs sprawled out in front of him. He could barely even breathe through the sobs, his upper body shaking violently with the movement. He could vaguely feel David coming up to him and beginning to whine and paw at him, but he was too far into his emotions and couldn’t pull away to reassure the dog that he was fine, because god he really was not fine. Everything became too much all at once and the feeling of the hardwood beneath him felt like lava, the fan on above his head felt like hurricane winds, and even the clothes on his body felt like they were constricting him. 

It was just all too much and before Henry could even process it, his hands were in his hair pulling hard enough to cause pain, and he was rocking back and forth as the sobbing continued. So many thoughts were running through his head at lightning speed, he could barely grasp onto one before another flew by. 

How would he even get any of this halfway across town? Alex said he would help but did Henry really want to inconvenience him like that? And even without the boxes, he still has to try and get David there too, so that’s another thing he has to take care of. Which is, like, fine, because he loves his dog and would do anything for him but it’s not easy to cart a dog and eight full boxes across Brooklyn. But even if all of that gets sorted, he still has to deal with his grandmother. What if she comes home early for some reason? It’s a Monday tomorrow so she shouldn’t but what if? And what if he gets all the way there, and Alex changes his mind? He definitely wouldn’t have time to lug everything back to the house before Mary got home, and then what would he do? She surely would beat him until he couldn’t even move if she found out he tried to leave. 

His thoughts were interrupted by something buzzing. Buzzing? What would be buzzing? 

Oh. His phone. His phone is buzzing in his pocket. It was enough of a jarring sensation that it dragged him out of his panic and slowly back into the present. The buzzing stopped and Henry just sat there for a moment, breathing still ragged and heavy. He ripped his hands out of his hair and froze with them mid-air for a moment, not sure how to proceed. 

A few moments later, his phone buzzed a few more times before falling silent. Henry tried to swallow but his throat was dry and sore from overuse, and he ended up coughing and gagging into his elbow, a string of snot sticking to his sleeve as he pulled back. He groaned in disgust for a minute and let his hands drop down to his sides in exhaustion. Another few minutes passed by before he finally found the strength to pull his phone from his pocket, only to be met with two texts and one missed call from Alex himself. 

—

Alex 

Hey, sorry if i called at a bad time. Just checking in again to see if u need help tomorrow. If not it's all chill i just remember u mentioning u currently live like halfway..? across town

We can rent a truck or somethin if u have a lot of stuff

—

Henry sniffles, reaching up to wipe at his runny nose with his sleeve before chuckling softly. Leave it to Alex to message him in the middle of a breakdown, talking about one of the reasons he was even breaking down to begin with. Too exhausted to really even process what he was doing, he replies. 

—

Henry

Actually, if it isn’t an inconvenience, I would really appreciate the help. If it’s too much, I can probably do it myself. I only have 8 boxes and David. 

Alex 

Ofc! Not a problem at all man. Since u don’t have a lot, i can actually just borrow my friend liam’s truck. 

Henry  

That would be incredible. I can pay him, or, well, give you the money to give to him. My grandmother is out of the house from 8 to around 6 o’clock so that would be the best time if we could arrange that. 

Alex 

Yeah for sure, though he won’t expect any payment, i think he’ll just be glad to help out. He was the one who suggested i get a roommate in the first place lol 

But I just text him and he said i can pick it up around 10 so i can be at urs around 11, knowing traffic

Henry

That sounds fantastic. I appreciate this more than you know.

—

Henry cringes as he sends the last message, locking his phone and tossing it on the floor next to him, before picking it up again to send Alex his address, setting an alarm for 8 am, then tossing the phone again. He felt awful about asking Alex for help, the bubble of anxiety still in his chest and throat. He lifts a hand and looks at it for a moment, taking in the fact that he is shaking. He knew from experience that his face was probably extremely pale, and his hair surely looked like a bird's nest. 

He looks over at David, who has curled up next to him in a tight ball and is just staring at him with big, sad eyes. Henry reaches over and pats his head softly, “Sorry, boy. You did well, trying to help me like that.” David just huffs at him in response. 

Eventually, Henry found the energy to stand long enough to hobble over to his bed and collapse onto it. David quickly joins him and the two fall asleep quickly, a busy day ahead for the both of them. 

—

The next day, Henry wakes up exactly six minutes before his alarm is meant to go off, and he takes those few precious moments to just lay in bed, still curled up on his side from how he'd fallen asleep the night before. David snoring at the end of the bed made his mouth quirk up at the corner, huffing out a laugh. Such a troubled, exhausted little free-loader. 

Henry sits up after a moment, wincing at the pain ringing out behind his eyes and he reaches up to rub at them, wiping away the crust that built up in them overnight. He would wake up with a blinding headache, especially after how hard he'd broken down the night before. That doesn't make it any less frustrating. 

He grabs his phone to shut off his alarm before it can ring and decides to wait in bed until he hears the front door open and close downstairs. It only takes ten minutes before he finally hears it and lets out a heavy sigh, not dissimilar to the way David does when life ails him. Henry laughs at the thought and finally gets up to go about his day. 

An hour later finds Henry sitting in the living room, dressed in a pale blue button-down shirt and khaki pants, once again staring at the boxes that have now taken up residence near the front door. His toiletries and David's bowls and toys had been packed away and there was nothing left to do but wait until 11 o'clock rolled around. 

He does his best to not think about what today means for him, for his future. Moving out is all he's dreamed of, hasn't let himself want for anything else. It wasn't that he never wanted anything in life, sure he did. But with his grandmother's dark presence looming over him, it overshadowed anything like that. What would become of him now? What kind of things could he achieve away from Mary’s hand? 

So maybe not thinking about it isn't going so well for him. 

He knew that being an author appealed to him greatly, always had. But that had been more of a pipe dream than anything substantial or real . Moving out meant he had more freedom to try and make goals and, one day, maybe even achieve them. 

But that was where his thought process stopped short. Because who was he to achieve his hopes and dreams when he wasn't even sure he deserved to do so? For the past four, nearly five, years, Henry had been pushed down both mentally and physically and he knew that had taken quite a toll on him. And realistically speaking, it would not be an easy venture to come out of the dark hole he'd been shoved into. Whatever hopes and dreams he could conjure up, whatever he thought he could maybe do, no matter how far away from his grandmother he ran, he was still Henry Fox, a nobody in Brooklyn, New York with next to nothing to his name but books, clothes, and his dog. 

How could anyone ever look up to him? Someone who had done nothing but be battered and bruised for years? If he were to do something meaningful or special with his life, who's to say there won't be more people like Mary? More people to step on him and make him wish he'd joined his mother and father when he had the chance to. 

That was a dangerous road to go down and he knew it, but what if? What if?

It was then that Henry heard a solid knock on the front door and he was dragged out of his thoughts, petting David on the head as he stood and made his way to the foyer. 

Opening the door, there stood one Alex Claremont-Diaz, dressed in a tightly fitted black t-shirt and jeans that had definitely seen better days. He looked just as stunning as Henry remembered and he found himself holding back a sigh. 

“Hey, man! How are you?” Alex asks, grin bright and curls being softly blown by the wind, making Henry want to curl up and die a little. God, this isn't going to be easy for him, is it?

“Hello, Alex. I'm doing well, how are you?” 

“Good! I'm good! You ready?” ” He asks, bouncing up and down on the balls of his feet twice, which Henry should not find as adorable as he does. Alex seems to be excited enough for the both of them and honestly, Henry doesn’t really want to ruin the mood. So, he nods and smiles, a small thing that has Alex’s face doing something funny, something that Henry can’t really place. 

Behind him, he hears nails clacking on the hardwood floor and the two men look down to see David in all his glory, staring back up at the two of them. Henry hears a loud gasp from Alex and he can’t help the snort that escapes him. He doesn’t even have time to look away from David before Alex is suddenly crouched down and holding a hand out for the pup to sniff at. 

“Oh, my god, Hen, I’m going to die, he’s so fucking cute.” 

Hen? Hen. 

Hen. 

Okay. 

Hen??

Alex doesn’t acknowledge it, too obsessed with the way David had shoved his head into his hand for pets, so Henry doesn’t either. Although he does file the feelings away to ruminate on later, once he’s alone again, and can properly freak out about his insanely attractive new roommate giving him a nickname. 

And it’s definitely not that he hasn’t heard the nickname before, Bea uses it all the time when they speak to each other on the phone, but something about the way it rolled off Alex’s tongue so easily that has Henry feeling a little weak in the knees. He urges himself to get it together. 

“He seems to like you, Alex,” Henry says, turning to grab David’s leash from the rack next to the door and bending down to clip it to his collar while the man gets his cuddles in. 

Alex grins, big and bright, and begins baby-talking his dog, “Well, I like him too! Don’t I? How could I not, you’re so cute, oh my god. Little Davey boy.” Henry just closes his eyes for a moment and laughs through his nose, before opening them again just to be met with Alex’s eyes on his. Henry almost flinches, but holds it back in favour of not looking like a right idiot. 

“Anyway,” Alex clears his throat a bit and stands up straight, “If you want to load him up into the back seat before we grab the boxes, that’s cool. That way you don’t have to worry about him while we load everything.” Henry nods and does exactly that, knowing David would be a good lad and would likely just lay down in the back while the two men got everything sorted. 

Alex is still standing, slightly awkwardly, at the front door when Henry returns and leads the both of them inside. If Alex is confused about why Henry would be moving out of such a nice house, he doesn’t make any move to question it, which Henry is thankful for. Maybe another day he would explain it to him, but there is not one part of Henry that wants to dump all of that onto someone he’s only known for less than two weeks, right before moving in with them. 

Alex moves to grab the first box he sees, labelled ‘Books, Box 1’ in neat cursive writing. Henry winces slightly, knowing how heavy that box was, and nearly chokes on his own spit when Alex lifts it, seemingly with no struggle. He watches as Alex’s arms flex beneath the tight black material and he has to force himself to drag his eyes away. No need to get worked up over a strong, attractive man now. 

The two of them work in tandem to bring all eight boxes to the car, and within a few minutes, the job is done and Alex has got his hands on his hips, standing tall and proud. He raises one arm up and Henry realises he’s going for a high-five. Their hands meet and they both grin before Henry speaks up, “Hey, I just have to do something really quickly if that’s okay? I’ll meet you in the car?” 

Alex nods and heads back to the truck with a salute, while Henry takes a deep breath in and reenters the house. In between packing over the last eleven days, Henry had taken the time to write a note to his grandmother, something to leave for her when she got home the night he planned on leaving. As much as he resented her, and as much as he feared her, she still gave him a roof over his head for the past few years, and leaving her with no explanation felt… wrong. 

So, he goes up to his room, grabs the sealed envelope from his bedside table, and heads back downstairs towards the kitchen, where his grandmother normally went first after arriving home. He places it on the island counter and pauses to just – breathe. 

This is it. This is the start of the rest of his life. 

He leaves the envelope sitting on the counter and heads back out to the truck, locking the door behind him as he goes. Opening the door and climbing into the passenger seat of the truck, he looks over at Alex and smiles softly. 

“You ready?” Alex says again, something knowing in his eyes. 

“Yeah. I am.” 

—

Grandmother, 

When I was fourteen years old, I remember my mother and father bringing me and my siblings over to visit you for the weekend. It had been a cold, rainy day in London and I recall Bea pitching a right fit over having to see you. I didn’t understand, then, why she was so adamant in her disdain for you. After all, you were our grandma and I wanted nothing more than to be someone you were proud of. Once we arrived, we sat down for tea and listened to you talk about everything from childhood stories to how your business meetings for that day had gone, and I remember being so infatuated with the idea that one day, I’d grow up and be just as successful as you were. 

You were everything I dreamed of being; strong-willed and powerful, successful and well-off. You were so many things and yet – 

And yet you were not kind. You were callous and cold – to Bea, to Pip, to myself. I admired you for who you were, so much to the point that I was blinded by it. You hated my father, the most wonderful person in my life, even to this day. You treated him as if he were the gum stuck to the bottom of your expensive, red-bottom shoes, and once I realised that, the illusion had been broken, shattered into thousands of pieces. I understood, then, why Bea never wanted to go visit you. Why Pip kept his distance. And why my father sat as far away from you during our visits as he could while still being respectful towards you. 

Because he was, always, respectful. You never deserved to know a man as wonderful as my father and I wish I had realised that much sooner. He tried his best to protect us from you and your wicked ways, but unfortunately, life is just as cruel as you can be and it ripped him and our mother away from us far too soon. I know you were overjoyed by his death and that is not something I will ever forgive you for. 

I want to make it clear that I am thankful for the time you allowed me to live under your roof, while Bea and Pip were off in the world, living and breathing on their own. I was shackled by the thought that I would never be as successful as you because I was too much like my father – a fact you always mentioned to me whenever we’d visit. At first, I was elated by the comparison and I still am, but I realise that you never meant it as a compliment. You meant it to be mean, and cruel, and that is not something I will ever understand. 

I want, now, to take the time to live for myself. To detach myself from your wicked ways and learn who I am, who I can be. Today, I break free from those shackles, and I venture off into the world, young and hopeful and free. So, please, don’t come looking for me. I don’t expect you will be too thrilled to learn you have lost control over me, but I wish not to see you again for as long as I am alive on this earth. You have ruined me and I will no longer give you that satisfaction. 

I am who I am today despite you and your hurtful ways, not because of. And while I wish you a healthy future, I cannot say I wish you anything more than that. May one day you be able to see the hurt you’ve caused, and feel shame instead of pride. May one day, you learn that Arthur Fox was everything you could ever dream of being and more. May one day, you see that I, too, am more than you ever thought possible and you wish that you had been kinder, been loving, been family. 

Thank you, for all that you have done. But I am finished. I am done with your insults, with your abuse, with you. I, again, wish you good health and nothing more. 

Farewell, 

Henry Fox

—

One month later finds Henry settled into the apartment with Alex, nearly everything in its respectful location in his room. And god, does he love his new room. It’s not exactly spacious, a far cry from the one he had living with his grandmother. But it’s his and he loves it. 

A twin bed pushed against the wall furthest from the door, covered in a comforter set that he’d recently purchased online, a cool grey tone that compliments the white walls and tan flooring quite well. Alex had poked fun at him when he first opened the box, and despite his insistence that grey is not a colour, Henry vehemently denied that claim (grey is a colour, thank you). 

Next to the bed is a black end table, with a small lamp and a few books stacked neatly on top of it. A matching dresser sits a few feet away against the opposite wall, filled with all of the clothes that Henry had brought with him. He didn’t have many, choosing to stick to the basics, which had worked out well for him when putting everything away. The only thing left to unpack was his book collection, but that was due to him not having a bookshelf yet, and while it was one of the things on his shopping list, purchasing one was not exactly his highest priority. His beloved books could live in the boxes for a while longer. 

David's bowls and food storage bin lived next to the dresser, and David himself could often be found lounging in the living room or on Henry’s bed. Rarely did Henry keep the door shut, a privilege he did not take for granted. Sometimes he found himself wanting to close the door, but he trusted Alex and wanted David to be able to explore his new home freely, something he hardly got to do back at the house. 

Today though, Henry finally had a day off after working six straight days and he’s thankful for the break. Alex, too, had a rare day off of work, and the two of them were lounging in the living room, watching Star Wars, something they found they had a shared interest in. Although Henry would die on the hill that Return of the Jedi is the best, Alex’s opinion be damned. Even the most attractive men have flaws, he supposes. 

It had been quiet for a few minutes, a rare moment when neither of them had anything to say to one another. It gave Henry the time to reflect, if anything. It had been a hectic month, with the move, getting to know Alex, working more hours at the bookstore, and setting up a routine for both himself and David. He was forever thankful for Alex and his willingness to help Henry when needed but sometimes Henry felt like he couldn’t breathe around the man. 

And not necessarily in a bad way, Alex was just– He was Alex. Henry found that he was stubborn, hard-working, charming, amusing, and had the biggest heart of anyone he had ever known. All that to say, Henry was falling hard and fast. Which was dangerous and he didn’t quite know how to deal with it. 

Henry had known his sexuality for his entire life, it had always been a fact of life. The sky is blue, two plus two is four, and Henry Fox is gay. Growing up, his parents had shown time and time again that they were more than accepting of their children, but something had held him back from telling them. A part of him thinks that they knew, especially his father. They had always been close, and Henry misses his father every day of his life and there isn’t a moment that goes by where he doesn’t. But something in Henry didn’t want to disappoint his father, or his mother for that matter. 

Not telling his parents is, to this day, his biggest regret in life and it's something that, given the opportunity, he would go back and change. There are not many of those situations, for Henry, at least. He'd like to think he's made good decisions in life, but when it comes to sharing his true self, he has a lot of room for improvement. Especially because a part of him isn't even sure who he really even is. But now, loving away from Mary, he's excited to learn. 

“I can hear you thinking from here and I don't think it's about the movie. What's up?” Alex asks, pulling Henry from his thoughts. Alex's foot knocks against the side of Henry's thigh from where he's curled up on the end of the couch and where Alex has taken up the rest of it, legs sprawled out towards him. Henry hums and tears his eyes away from the screen where he'd been staring, taking note that the movie had been paused at some point without him realising it.

The pair had gotten closer in the last month of Henry's time there, late nights together where the two had learned of their shared insomnia. Despite their busy work schedules, come 2 to 3 a.m., they could be found sitting together somewhere in their living room or the kitchen space, talking about everything and nothing all at once. 

The first time it had happened, it was two nights after Henry had moved in and he just could not get his brain to shut off. So he'd quietly made his way out of his room somewhere around three in the morning, leaving the door cracked slightly instead of open so a then sleeping David wouldn't wake Alex with his nails clacking on the hardwood floor by attempting to join Henry. He really needed to trim them. The next day, for sure. 

Henry silently made his way over to the kitchen and nearly jumped out of his skin at the sight of Alex lounging on the couch, TV on, lighting up his face softly, a blue glow that complimented his skin and made him look younger, less tired than he likely was. The man had looked up, a sleepy grin appearing and making Henry's stomach flip. 

He'd said, “Hey, Hen. Couldn't sleep?” 

‘Hen’ had become a thing for Alex and Henry spent the last few days freaking out about it. And while it had become expected, it still never failed to make his heart flutter and he wasn't sure if he liked that or not. Again, Henry had always been aware of his sexuality, but he never really had the opportunity to act on it beyond quick hook-ups in dingy bars and text conversations that ended before they had even really begun. 

So, basically, Henry was a fish out of water when it came to Alex and it was… a lot. Good, but a lot nonetheless. 

“No. I never really can,” Henry smiled wryly and walked over to the couch to sit down in his usual spot. Alex eyed him for a moment before he murmured, “Yeah, me either.” 

They ended up watching reruns of some crime show that Henry wasn't familiar with until they both passed out on the couch, not waking up until the sun was beaming through the windows and shining into their eyes. This happened every few nights and they both became so used to the routine that they both tended to sleep better on the couch than in their own beds. 

That was a few weeks ago, though, and Alex is still looking at Henry, waiting for a response, and something about the moment just felt right. He and Alex had gotten close with their late-night chats and show-binging and Henry was comfortable . He trusted Alex, more than he maybe should, and so, bracing himself, Henry spoke. 

“Do… god, uhm. I want to say that I know I don't need to tell you this, but in the spirit of authenticity, I want to,” Henry starts, pausing to gauge Alex's reaction. The man in question nods, encouraging Henry to continue. So he does, “I am, uh – I'm gay… And I want you to know that, as my roommate. I don't want to make you uncomfortable, but I trust you, for some reason,” Henry smirks a bit, trying to cover up his nerves with humour. 

It seems to work momentarily because Alex smiles, and then he seems to register what Henry said because the next thing he knows, there's a hand on his knee and Alex is looking at him with a small, happy smile. 

“Thank you for telling me, Henry. I'm not, like, an asshole, so that would never make me uncomfortable, but I'm so glad you felt comfortable enough to tell me. And, uh, for authenticity, I'm bi. So, you're safe with me.” 

Holy shit. 

Okay, get it together, Fox. 

“Thank you for telling me, Alex. You're,  of course, safe with me too,” Henry smiles at him, resting his own hand atop the one that Alex has on Henry's kneecap. They look at each other for a moment before Henry feels a blush starting to fill his cheeks and forces himself to look away, pulling his hand back. Alex does the same and clears his throat before unpausing the TV. 

They don't talk again until the movie ends.

—

The next day brought with it Henry's favourite time of the week – a phone call with his best mate, Percy Okonjo (Pez, like the sweets, for short). They had been friends since their time at Eton College and sometimes, Henry doesn't know if he would have even made it a week after his father's passing without him. A fact that was even more true once his mother ended her own life. 

Henry had been inconsolable and had almost completely shut down. He began having what he liked to refer to as his ‘dark days’. Days, sometimes multiple in a row, where he couldn’t do more than just lay in bed and rot away as time passed. He couldn’t eat, couldn’t sleep, couldn’t get up to go to the bathroom. Couldn't do anything.

But then there was Pez. 

He had a knack for knowing when Henry’s bad days were upon him, and always made an effort to show up or call or text or something . Most of the time Henry couldn’t answer texts or calls on those days, finding the action far too overwhelming, but the thought was there and Henry loved Pez for it. Eventually, once Henry had moved to the States with his family, just after he’d graduated from Eton, the two had decided on a weekly phone call to keep up with each other and share any life updates. It was a good system, one that Henry wouldn’t give up for the world. 

“Hazza, darling! How are we doing today?” 

Henry grins, “I'm well, Pez, and you?” 

“I'm doing marvellous, thank you! Clara has decided I'm her favourite staff member, which is just exquisite!” 

Clara, a 5-year-old south London girl who was currently residing at one of the many shelters a part of the Okonjo Foundations. Pez said she reminded him a lot of himself, boisterous and exuberant in nature, not afraid to make an impression, and Henry wishes he could meet her. Wished he could meet all of the children and help them actually, but alas, he couldn't really do much all the way in New York. 

“That's wonderful, I knew she would, though. Too much like you to not. How is she doing anyway? Any luck getting her to do her homework?” Henry asks, knowing the girl's history with anything school-related. She had only just started her academic career and yet she struggled hard with the very minimal coursework given. Mainly vocabulary sheets and simple maths, but a challenge nonetheless. 

Pez groans, “No! I've been speaking with the shelter director, trying to get her set up with a doctor to get her checked for any learning disabilities, but you know how that goes. Poor girl just wants to run around all day and play, cannot focus on her worksheets for anything.” 

Henry hums in acknowledgment and pauses for a moment before saying, “Well, if anyone can get stubborn people to do things for the greater good, it's you, Pez.” 

“Dear, you know me so well. I wish I were there to kiss your cheek for such a comment.” They both laugh, and Percy asks, “How's living with your Adonis going?” 

Henry barks out a laugh again, “Things are going quite well, actually. I came out to him last night. It went better than I expected.” 

He can hear Pez cheer through the speaker, and Henry smiles. It's so good to have someone to talk to about things like that, Henry thinks. 

“Wonderful news, pet! He sounds wonderful from your endless stories about him, but I'm thrilled to hear it! What made you tell him?” Pez asks. 

Henry lets out a deep breath, thinking for a moment about the question. What made him want to tell Alex about his sexuality, especially so suddenly? 

“I’m not completely sure. Something about him is just comforting, I suppose. I didn't want to feel like I was lying to him, he doesn't deserve that. I didn't… I know I didn't owe him that, but I felt ready to tell someone and I trust him. It's a bit complex,” Henry murmurs, some unknown feeling swelling in his chest. He takes a deep breath as he waits for Pez to respond. 

“There's nothing wrong with keeping things to yourself, the same way there's nothing wrong with sharing things about yourself, Hazza. I am beyond overjoyed that you found comfort in him, and that you live with someone you can trust with information as personal as your sexuality. Though you certainly would not be lying to him had you kept that to yourself. I'm so pleased for you that it went well and that you're safe,” Percy says, and Henry breathes out a laugh. 

“That's what he'd said to me, actually,” Henry said, thinking back to the night before and the quiet sentiments that they shared with each other. 

“What's that, pet?” 

“That I'm safe with him.” 

—

Their phone call lasted another hour before the two had to part ways. Pez had Pez things to be doing, and Henry was beat from a long day at work. Feeling better than he had been, though, Henry decided to use the time he had before Alex got home with dinner, a new habit that the man had picked up, to get some writing done. 

He'd felt inspired over the past few weeks and had managed to not only sit down and write something, but he'd managed to flesh out almost an entire outline for a story. It was rough and needed a lot of work before he would be ready to start actually writing anything, picky as he was with his work, but it was more than he had been able to do in years and he wanted nothing more than to spend time working on something he loves. 

So, sitting down at the high-top table in their kitchen, he gets to work, fingers flying over the keyboard in a way that makes his heart and mind happy. He keeps writing and editing until he startles, the sound of the front door opening forcing him to drag his eyes away from the screen finally. 

It's Alex, of course, carrying a few grocery bags in one hand and his laptop back in the other, clearly struggling to get in the door. Henry quickly shoves his laptop to the side to go and help, and the two of them manage to get everything on the kitchen counter before they turn to each other and pause. 

A few seconds go by and then the two of them are giggling, and then Henry manages to speak up in between bursts of laughter, “Welcome home, Alex. That was quite the entrance you made.” 

Their laughter tapers off, “Thanks, sweetheart, I try.” 

Henry chokes on air and Alex seems to realise what he said, eyes bulging out of his head. 

“Oh, my god, I'm sorry, I didn't-” 

“No! No, it's okay, I just wasn't expecting it,” Henry says, cutting Alex off, face surely bright red, another quiet giggle escaping his mouth. As if he would ever tell Alex to not call him sweetheart. He may be a gay disaster at times, but he's not an idiot. 

Okay, maybe a little bit of an idiot, but when did a little self-indulgence hurt anyone? 

“Oh. Alright, uh, I bought stuff for enchiladas, my grandma's recipe. They're so fucking good, and I've been craving them,” Alex says, clearly changing the subject for both of their sakes. Henry is more than grateful for the excuse to move on. 

“That sounds wonderful, Alex. I'll send you the money for the groceries. And no, you're not arguing. You argued last time and won, and it's my turn to win.” 

Alex sighs heavily, shoulders slumping, but the fond smile on his face betrays him. Henry feels a little bit like he's being waterboarded. Dramatic, but what else would one expect from someone who'd been working on an outline for a book for an hour and a half straight? He's detailed, okay? 

“Fine, Your Majesty, you can have this one. It was like, 50 bucks or something close. The receipt is in one of the bags.” Henry nods and moves to sort through them, pulling all the ingredients out as he goes, reading all of them as he puts them down. He's generally unfamiliar with Mexican food, but his father was one hell of a cook so he does recognize most of the items Alex purchased. 

He eventually stumbles upon the receipt and pulls out his phone to Venmo the total to Alex. Once done, he tosses the paper into the trash and heads back over to the table, and shuts his laptop down, deciding to take it back to his room later, not wanting to part from Alex quite yet. 

Over the next few hours, Alex makes dinner while Henry awkwardly hovers in the kitchen, mainly there for moral support and good conversation. His past attempts at cooking for his grandmother never ended well, and while he doesn't think the outcome here would be the same, he doesn't chance it. 

The two eat dinner together, chatting about their days and Henry complimenting Alex's cooking every other bite and it's all so domestic that Henry kind of feels like pulling his hair out of his head. But it also just makes him feel kind of sad. Because he knows that the friendship they're forming is far more important than any feelings Henry may be harbouring and he's doomed to a life of pining, even only a month in, he knows. 

Henry never thought he would be one to fall so quickly, but he's a romantic at heart and he shouldn't be surprised that someone as beautiful, both inside and out, as Alex is would capture his heart and make his days immeasurably better. So, he'll settle for what they have now, it's a dream compared to the life he had before. 

—

Henry knew he’d been tiptoeing the line between being okay and an imminent breakdown for at least a week and half. He could feel his emotions bubbling up just beneath the surface of his skin, threatening to spill over in the form of a panic attack. He’d had quite a few of those in the months leading up to his moving out, and while he’s gotten the handle on knowing when he’s doomed for one, he has yet to figure out how to stop them from happening. Unstoppable force meets immovable object, or whatever. 

He was thankful to not have had one since the night before he moved in with Alex, but it was more than inevitable and Henry was just waiting for the other shoe to drop at this point. 

The shoe ended up dropping during dinner one night, four days after Henry had come out to Alex. It wasn’t anything huge, and really, Henry should have had a better grasp on his own reaction to things by then. The two were huddled closely in the kitchen, just after Alex had finally convinced Henry to watch him cook to learn a few things. The shorter man was adamant that, of all people, he would be the one to teach Henry Fox how to not burn water. 

“Okay, so I won’t say I know how you manage to burn…water? But we’re having pasta tonight so I will be showing you how it’s done. And you will be watching me do this,” Alex says, bumping his hip with Henry’s playfully before wandering off with a pot in hand to fill with water from the sink. Henry rolls his eyes playfully. 

“I don’t suppose I can get out of this? I may not be good at cooking, but I will have you know I am great at ordering take-out. Also, water doesn’t actually burn , but it definitely boils over,” Henry huffs, stepping back to allow room for Alex to lug the now-full pot back over to the stove. Alex laughs, nodding and glancing back at Henry for a moment, “You sure are, sweetheart, but that doesn’t change the fact that ordering food is expensive as shit, especially in Brooklyn. So, for your sake, you’re at least going to learn how to boil fucking water without it spilling over.” 

Henry sighs, resigned to the fact that Alex is the most stubborn man he’s ever met and he will, in fact, not be getting out of this. He walks back over to the stove where Alex is fiddling with the knobs on the stove, watching him set the front right burner to high. 

“So, does it have to be on high? Because I always put it on high and it never ends well,” Henry says, chin jutting out as he looks over Alex’s shoulder. Alex nods, “Yeah, always put it on high…” He trails off for a moment before standing up straight and reaching for the salt shaker sitting next to the stove, pouring some into the water, “Okay! Always add your salt, makes the pasta taste better and shit, but only like a pinch of it. And now we wait, and we don’t watch, because a watched pot never boils. ” 

Henry stops short, looking at the back of Alex’s head curiously, “Is that… accurate?” 

Alex laughs, “No clue, but I’ve heard it all my life so I’m not going to risk it.” 

Henry is about to respond, mouth opening, when Alex abruptly turns and his hand goes up above Henry’s eye level at the same time and he can’t help it when he flinches–hard. Henry’s shoulders come up as he shrinks back and he watches in real time the horror and shock filling Alex’s eyes in response to Henry’s reaction. Alex slowly lowers his hand, and Henry realises then that he was going in for a high-five and feels shame and embarrassment join the fear that had filled his head and chest.

The rush of emotion was just too much and before Alex could even get a word out about what the hell had just happened, Henry is beginning to ramble, “I’m so sorry, I don’t- I didn’t think that- that wasn’t-” Not a single sentence is forming properly and Henry could feel his breathing begin to pick up in speed and depth. He starts backing up, away from Alex and towards his bedroom, when Alex’s hand lifts again tentatively, almost as if he wants to stop Henry from leaving but isn’t sure if he can touch. 

And Henry, honestly, couldn’t answer that question if his life depended on it. 

He can feel tears stinging at his eyes and shakes his head, turning and speed-walking back to his bedroom, not wanting to face the embarrassment of what he’d done, of how he’d reacted to a simple high five. God, the two of them had high-fived before . He softly shuts the door behind himself and locks it before standing, frozen in the middle of his bedroom for a few moments, processing everything that just happened. 

His chest heaves once, twice, and then he’s dropping to his knees on the hardwood floor and gripping at his hair as he begins to sob silently, gasping breaths the only sound filling the air. Henry wasn’t even entirely sure which thing he was crying about. The embarrassment, the fear, or the build up of anxiety he’d been experiencing. Maybe it was all three. 

Henry could feel himself shaking violently, the pain radiating from his scalp being the only thing keeping him partially grounded. 

God, Alex was going to think he’s a freak. Flinching like he was about to be hit over something as simple as a high-five. Who even does that? Henry had known his time with his grandmother would have some effect on him, but for it to make its debut appearance in front of his roommate? What kind of sick joke is that? 

Oh god, he can’t breathe. 

Minutes, hours, days pass by before Henry finally hears something piercing through the panic. A low voice murmuring words through the door. He can’t quite make out what’s being said but he knows it’s Alex. His head feels like it’s filled with molasses and his eyes are burning like there are hot coals being pressed to them. Henry’s ears feel clogged and he only just manages to catch his breath when a very brief moment of clarity hits. 

A voice cuts through in that moment, “Hen, please. It’s okay. Open the door, please,” Alex sounds desperate and scared and Henry doesn’t really know what to do with that. His breathing is ragged and he can barely swallow through the thick saliva in his throat. 

Henry’s chest is aching in a way he hasn’t felt in weeks and his knees are sore from how hard he’d fallen to the ground. He finds that he’s rocking back and forth in a poor attempt at soothing himself and he just wants to curl up and die, doesn’t want to have to face Alex and see the confusion and, god, maybe even the judgement or disgust. 

Alex wasn’t a cruel person but Henry wouldn’t even blame him for being weirded out. Afterall things had been going so well between the two, with their nightly dinners together and middle of the night chats. But while Henry couldn’t exactly blame him for being put off by Henry’s reaction and subsequent breakdown, he knew it would still hurt to see, to hear. 

Henry kind of just collapses onto his side to take the pressure off of his knees and curls up into a ball, tucking his hands into his chest. He couldn’t stop the stream of  tears falling from his eyes and more than he could stop the way his hands were shaking. He just felt so – embarrassed ,  god, and tired. 

So tired. 

Henry ends up passing out from pure exhaustion right there on his bedroom floor, Alex's voice fading away along with the rest of the world. 

It would be another hour before he wakes up, groggy, confused, and anxious. It takes him a moment before he remembers exactly why he's woken up on his bedroom floor, feeling the way he does. Oh god. 

Flinching away from Alex's hand, running off to his room only to have a panic attack. 

His nose is clogged and his head is pounding, and he groans softly as he sits up, joints aching from having slept on the floor. He takes a moment to just listen, and realises that Alex must have left him at some point, the man's voice no longer softly radiating through the door. 

Henry stands and goes to exit his room, opening the door as quietly as he can manage, only to hear the sound of David’s paws slapping on the wooden floors, rushing towards him. Henry winces slightly, realising he’d left David out in the living area with Alex during his… episode, he supposes. He has multiple things to apologise for now. 

“Shush, David. I’m okay, dear.” He soothes, bending over to pet the excited dog. He stands up straight then, and heads for the living area, bracing himself for the worst. 

Alex is standing at the kitchen counter, spooning finished fettuccine alfredo into large bowls. He must not notice Henry’s presence at first, because he nearly jumps out of his skin when he turns towards the fridge to his right to grab something out of it. Henry winces and mumbles, “I’m sorry, I thought you’d seen me.” The first apology of the night, besides the one he’d said in a blind panic before rushing off to his room. 

Alex looks up at him then, concern clear in his face, and the two just look at each other for a moment. Henry isn’t sure if Alex didn’t hear him, or if he just has nothing to say to him. Either way, he can feel the anxiety building back up and he forces himself to take a deep breath. And Henry is sure he looks like a right mess; eyes puffy and red, cheeks just as red, and hair tousled. He can’t imagine what must be running through Alex’s mind. Thankfully he doesn’t have to wonder for long. 

“Are you… okay, Hen? That feels like a dumb question but…” he trails off, shifting from one foot to the other, hands coming up to sit in front of his stomach as he fidgets with his own fingers. 

Henry is too tired to lie, “I’ve been better, honestly. Uhm. I just wanted to say, I’m so incredibly, deeply sorry for how I reacted to, uh, that. I’m not- I don’t-” Henry stops himself and sighs in frustration, not able to find the right words to explain what had happened, because even he isn’t really sure, not completely. 

Alex looks confused, “Why are you saying sorry? If anything, I should be the one apologizing here, I’m the one who made you flinch like that. I don’t- I want you to feel safe here, and clearly I’ve done something wrong.”

Henry shakes his head back and forth quickly, ignoring his headache, “No, Alex, please don’t for a second think that this is your fault, I- I guess I should probably explain, if you’re amenable to that.” He shifts upwards onto the balls of his feet before dropping back down, not quite sure what to do with himself. 

Alex nods, and then shakes his head, eyebrows furrowed, “No, I- Well, only if you’re okay with that. I’m okay with just knowing if you’re feeling better or not. You’re not obligated to tell me anything, only what you want to share.” 

Henry nods. He had kind of known that would be the answer Alex gave. 

But still. 

“I want to. We haven’t known each other for long, but I feel like it’s important that you know why I react to things differently sometimes. If you’re open to listening, I’m okay to tell you.” 

Alex agrees and before Henry knows it, the two of them are curled up on opposite ends of the couch with bowls of pasta in their hands and the television turned off. Henry makes himself comfortable and the two eat in silence for a moment before he finally finds the words he’s been looking for. 

“I won’t pretend to know exactly why I am the way that I am. I know the catalyst, and I know why I reacted the way that I did earlier, but as far as technical terminology and proper reasoning goes, your guess would be as good as mine. But, uh, if you’re okay with hearing things that may cause some stress or something, I’m as ready as I will be to get into it.” 

Alex nods, “I’m okay to hear it, thank you for asking though.” 

So Henry begins. 

“Okay, well, you know how I lived with my grandmother? Right, yes. Okay. Well, I had lived with her for nearly five years, just shy of it actually. I had moved in with her after my father passed from cancer and my mother from suicide. Living with her was fine, really. At least for a while. She had rules for me, of course. Uh, sorry, I can see your confusion. Ah, things like curfew, and household chores that I was to complete before she returned home from work everyday. Simple things, really,” Henry is cut off, “Curfew? Wait, you’re 25 now, she gave you a curfew at what, 20 or 21? That’s-” Alex shakes his head with his brow furrowed for a moment before speaking up again, “Sorry, not the point, continue.” 

The corner of Henry’s mouth quirks up before it drops when he continues, “Yes, well, it may not be completely normal for everyone, but it was a midnight curfew and I stuck to it. For the most part. I had missed it by ten minutes one night and it- god, it hadn’t ended well. I don’t remember much, blocked it out, but I do remember my grandmother being so, so angry with me. I woke up the next day with a black eye and a new eleven o’clock curfew.

“Things hadn’t really gotten any better after that, and that was two years ago. Afterwards, she had decided it would be best to bestow more chores onto me. One of which was the task of preparing or ordering dinner for the two of us every night. Before, she would take care of it, or hire someone to do it. But now it was my job and we both know how my cooking skills are.” 

“Non-existent?” Alex smirks, before he winces and mumbles, “Sorry, again. Go ahead.” 

Henry shakes his head, “It’s quite alright, I actually enjoy your little quips, aimed at me and offensive as they may be. But yes, my non-existent cooking skills meant I was ordering in a lot, but one day, actually the day before we’d met up, she’d requested something extremely specific and it meant I’d need to try my hand at cooking it. Some Italian dish that I wasn’t really familiar with, and I don’t even remember what it was called. But, uh, I failed, quite spectacularly so, and when grandmother got home, I… again, I tend to kind of… forget these moments after they happen and I’m not sure why. All I know is she was so mad at me for burning the food. The day we were set to meet up, I woke up with a fresh bruise on my face and ribs so sore I could hardly breathe. 

“And that apparently affected me more than I had originally thought. I figured if I didn’t remember it, it wouldn’t hurt me but I suppose I was wrong. Earlier, when you went to high-five me, and I want to make it crystal clear that this isn’t your fault in any way, but the combination of being in the kitchen and the sudden movement of something coming up past my face… It was just too similar and I flinched. I didn’t mean to, but I couldn’t help it. Afterwards, what you saw was the culmination of a few weeks of anxiety combined with the shock and embarrassment of the situation. 

“And I know you won’t accept it, but I want to say I am so sorry for making you deal with that, and for leaving David out here during it. He’s my responsibility, and I do not wish to make him yours if I don’t have to. That’s not fair on you, and I apologise. No, don’t go shaking your head at me, I still have one more. I want to say that I’m sorry for leaving you to sit and wonder if I was okay, and leaving you to finish up dinner when I was supposed to be learning,” Henry finishes, twirling pasta around his fork as he waits for Alex to find his words. 

He does eventually find them, and Alex sits his own empty bowl on the coffee table before speaking, “I am so sorry, Henry. You never deserved any of that and I wish you didn’t have to deal with her and her violence, but I really appreciate you sharing that with me. And I’m so sorry about your parents. That- God, I can’t imagine how you’ve been dealing with that without breaking down sooner, actually. You’re a hell of a lot stronger than me, that’s for sure.” 

Henry feels himself getting choked up and he pushes it back, not wanting to break down again in front of Alex, “Thank you, that means a lot. I haven’t actually told anyone any of this before, so I can’t say I’ve heard anyone say that to me. A part of me will always believe I deserved it in some way, but I really do appreciate the sentiment.” 

Alex looks like he’d been physically hurt by Henry’s words and just shakes his head again. The two sit in silence for a moment while Henry finishes his food and sets the bowl down near Alex’s on the table. Alex looks like he’s contemplating on saying something and Henry allows him the silence and time to think about it. He knows that what he shared would be jarring for anyone to hear, let alone hearing it from someone you’ve only recently started living with. 

“Have you… and please, like, tell me to shut the fuck up if I’m overstepping here, but have you ever considered therapy? I go, sometimes, and it really does help me. I just, I wonder if that would be something that could help you too? Dealing with the trauma of being… abused, alone can’t be healthy and I just want you to be okay, sweetheart. You of all people deserve to be okay.” 

Ouch. Okay. 

“I have considered it before, and you aren’t overstepping here. Well, if you are, I really don’t care, but I don’t think you are. But I have, I just– a part of me is scared, I think, to unpack all of that. I have so much built up inside of me that allowing it all to come spilling out is terrifying,” Henry says, sighing and looking down at his pants, picking at a loose thread. 

“I don’t know what your insurance covers, but can I text you the name of my therapist’s office? What you’re feeling is extremely valid, and I don’t want to force you into anything, hell, I have no pull in your life to be able to do so anyway, but I really think it would be good for you,” Alex says, and Henry looks up to find him staring at the way Henry is picking at his pants. 

Henry pauses. 

And thinks. 

He really had thought about going to therapy before, and had even checked with his insurance about it. But it just wasn’t a possibility while he was living with his grandmother. Now, though? Away from her and the abuse? With more time on his hands? Sure, he was terrified but wasn’t that the point? For him, therapy would be pushing his boundaries farther than before and working through his anxiety and trauma. Because that’s truly what it was. He hadn’t been brave enough to put that word to it before, but hearing Alex say it… he couldn’t deny that what he’d been through was traumatic, especially after his reaction to a simple damn high-five. 

“Yeah, Alex, I- I would really appreciate that, actually.” 

Maybe this could be the start of something good, for once. 

—

With how crowded Brooklyn is, Henry doesn't get an appointment set up for another month out and had scheduled an appointment with his regular doctor in the meantime. The last time he'd gone was nearly a month after his father's death, where he'd been prescribed anti-anxiety and antidepressant medication. That hadn't lasted very long, when only a month later, his mother died and with it, any motivation he had to take his medications. 

Then once he'd moved in with his grandmother, he didn't have any time to go and get them prescribed again. Not that she would have allowed him to, she always had been one of those people who didn't believe in mental health and its remedies. 

But today, Henry is just getting home from his appointment, having stopped by the pharmacy on his way home to pick up his brand new prescription for Prozac. His depression assessment had made the doctor furrow her eyebrows in clear concern, quickly choosing to discuss options for him, settling on the drug when he'd described his more recent panic attacks to her. It's the same medication he'd been on before, and it had worked then, so they were hopeful it would work now. 

Alex still isn't home by the time Henry walks in the door, David leaping off the couch to greet him, and Henry knows that the man must be having a rough day at his own job. And seeing as it’s getting closer to six o'clock, Henry decides to order some Chinese food for the both of them, and goes to his room to change while he waits for it to arrive. He shoots off a quick text to Alex, letting him know that he doesn't need to bring dinner home. 

—

Henry 

Hello, I've gone ahead and ordered Chinese takeaway from our favourite place, so you don't need to stop.

Alex 

You're an angel and I don't know what I'd do without you 

Henry 

Just get home safely, you cretin.

—

 Henry tosses his phone on the bed and goes back out to the living room, where his laptop is waiting for him on the dining table. It's become somewhat of a habit for him to work on his book in the shared spaces of the home, finding it more relaxing than being cooped up in his bedroom. He slides himself up onto one of the barstools and opens the laptop, getting to work while he waits for their food to arrive. 

He’s finally allowed himself to start working on the actual content of the book, instead of stalling and editing the outline over and over again. He’s two chapters in and giddy about where things were going. It’s a romance novel, based on a poet living in Paris who meets a rowdy American man and falls in love. It was going to be sickeningly sweet and Henry couldn’t wait to write it all. The American may remind him of a certain someone, but that was a secret he’d take to his grave. 

Henry ends up halfway through chapter three when the front door opens and in walks a visibly exhausted and worn down Alex Claremont-Diaz. Henry’s eyebrows furrow and he watches as Alex kicks his shoes off and walks over to Henry, laptop bag hanging off his shoulder. His tie is loosened considerably and the top two buttons of his shirt were unbuttoned, making Henry's throat go dry. 

“Henry, can you remind me why I don't just quit right now, please,” Alex says, tilting his head back and looking at Henry under his mile-long eyelashes. Henry blinks at him, feeling like a fish out of water. 

“Because you love helping people, and you would ‘rather die than work retail or some shit’”, Henry says, smiling when Alex straightens up and looks at Henry like he'd grown another head. 

“You cursed, oh, my god,” Alex grins, “Do it again.” 

Henry snorts and shakes his head, “No, dear, I was just quoting you. That doesn't count.” 

“Hmm, fair. I still say you should do it again, I enjoyed it,” Alex says, moving to sit in the empty stool across from Henry when the doorbell rings, “Oh shit, food!” 

Henry chuckles and watches as Alex goes to grab the takeaway, and definitely does not watch his arse. Definitely not. Once Alex returns, Henry shuts his laptop and moves it to the side so he can focus on good food and even better conversation that he's sure is to come. 

Once they have the food sorted, Alex jogs over to the fridge and calls out to Henry, “Water or wine?” 

Henry ponders for a moment before asking for wine, knowing they have a few bottles of white stowed away for nights where one or both of them needs to relax. Plus, he hasn't taken his first dose of medication yet, so it was a good time to drink. 

Alex pulls a few wine glasses from the upper cabinets and pours them both a hearty glass and carefully brings them over to the table. Alex sits down finally and the two men dig in and start chatting about their days. 

Eventually, Alex clears his throat and bumps Henry's foot with his own, looking nervous. 

“Yes, Alex? Everything okay?” 

“Yeah, uh- you know how I've mentioned my friend, Nora, and my sister, June?” Alex says, and Henry tilts his head at him, “Yes, of course. Are they okay?” 

Alex's eyes widen, “Oh, yeah! No, they're fine, great actually. Uh, I just ask because they want to visit and I told them they could stay here for the few days that they're in town and I realize that you live here now too, so I wanted to run it by you and make sure you're okay with that.” 

Henry smiles, relieved that nothing is wrong with the two girls that Alex has made clear are an important part of his life, and nods. 

“I'd love for them to stay here, Alex. I've been wanting to meet them anyway, they seem lovely. Just… One question, if I may.” 

Alex tilts his head towards Henry, encouraging him to continue. 

“Where are they going to sleep?” 

Alex freezes, then mutters, “Shit. Knew I was forgetting something.” 

Henry laughs brightly, “It's alright, Alex. If it's not too, uhm, much, I suppose. I wouldn't mind if you slept in my room and they could take yours?” 

Alex looks confused and Henry decides, once again, to be brave. 

“I mean, my bed isn't huge, it's quite small actually, but if you wanted to share it, just while they're here,” Henry swallows drying, forcing himself to maintain eye contact as if he's not dying inside. 

For once, Alex seems to be at a loss for words, jaw dropping slightly before he snaps it shut. Henry sees a flush forming on Alex's darker skin and the way his knee begins bouncing up and down anxiously. 

So Henry starts panicking, “I mean, you don't have to. Someone can take the couch, even if it's not the most comfortable. I'll take it, actually, I don't want to make you uncomfortable. I probably already did, I'm sorry, we can just-” 

He's cut off by Alex placing a hand on Henry's and squeezing, looking at him with those big eyes of his. 

“Hen, calm down. I think that's a great idea. They'll kill me if I make them sleep apart anyway, fucking inseparable,” Alex says, keeping his grip on the back of Henry's hand, a small grin on his face. 

Henry is feeling a lot of things right now. 

“I guess that's settled then.” 

—

So, three weeks later the couple is at their door, voices loud and full of excitement as they greet Alex and Henry. The two men took the next few days off work, both using accrued vacation time so they could spend as much time as they could with Nora and June while they were visiting. 

“Alejandro! And Henry, oh, my god, Henry! You're so cute, shut the fuck up. Alex, you weren't kidding. And David , the boy!” Nora exclaims, elbowing Alex hard in the side and rushing up to Henry, asking for a hug that Henry happily agrees to, before letting go and reaching down to cuddle Henry's dog. 

He uses those short few seconds to have a moment about what Nora could have meant by that. Had Alex been calling him cute to his best friend and sister? What would possess him to do that? Henry just chooses to move on because dwelling on it would only cause him to break out in hives if he isn't careful. 

Alex, on the other hand, seems to want to die a little, looking at Nora like she'd just killed his first born. June comes up to him next and they hug as well, blocking Henry's view of Alex and Nora as the two bicker quietly. June whispers in his ear while they hug, “You'll get used to them, don't you worry.” 

They pull back and grin at each other, before turning to the other two and watching them argue quietly. Alex takes notice of their gaze first and stops talking abruptly, turning and grinning widely. 

“So! It's, like, late as fuck, who wants to do pizza and a movie?” Alex says, clearly deflecting, which makes Henry even more curious about Nora's comment. But again, he's choosing not to think about it too much for his own sake. 

June and Nora hadn't arrived until nearly ten o'clock at night, both having to fly in from Texas with the only flights available being later in the afternoon. They planned on staying two days, three nights, and leaving on the third morning. Henry was also trying not to think about the fact that meant he would be spending three nights in the same bed as Alex. 

Why he had ever proposed such an idea, he'd never fully understand. 

Everyone agrees on Alex's plan and soon enough they are all huddled in their small living room with June and Nora sprawled out on the floor, and Henry and Alex in their usual spots on the couch. They settled on watching Knives Out, a mystery slash thriller that Alex was obsessed with, and tore into the boxes of pizza. 

By the time the end of the movie had rolled around, Alex had kicked his feet up onto Henry's lap, where Henry then rests his arms on his shins. It was the closest they'd ever been while watching anything together and it made Henry's heart race like he'd been running a marathon. June and Nora were cuddled up just in front of the couch, the coffee table having been pushed aside to make room. It felt so close to a double date that Henry had to pull himself out of his thoughts multiple times in order to get through it.

May God bless his poor, gay heart. 

But then the credits were rolling and they sat for another twenty minutes discussing the film and by the end, Alex was sitting smug and proud that he'd introduced one of his favourite movies to his three favourite people and they liked it. Alex's words, not Henry's.

Henry softly pushes at Alex's legs so he could stand and smiles at the pout forming on the man's face. 

“Dear, I have to do the dishes before bed, you're going to have to let me up,” Henry says, forgetting his audience for a moment. He misses the way the girls go dead silent and finally manages to get Alex's legs off his lap. Henry collects everyone's empty plates and cups and heads for the kitchen, ignoring the too quiet bickering that picks up behind him. 

By the time he finishes washing, drying, and putting the dishes away, the girls are heading to Alex's room for the night, both of them stopping to wish Henry a goodnight. Nora winks at him and follows June to the room, leaving Henry quite confused. 

He looks over at Alex, who had approached him, and furrows his eyebrows in confusion, a silent question being asked. Alex waits until they hear the sound of a door closing before he smiles softly at Henry. 

“You called me dear, in front of them. Nearly had to beat them off with an empty pizza box with how many questions they had. Tried to explain that it's just how we are, but they were adamant that we're secretly together,” Alex says, eyes roaming over Henry's face before meeting his gaze, some unknown emotion crossing his face. 

Henry flushes, “Oh god, I'm sorry, Alex. Force of habit. Though, they better not hear you call me sweetheart if that's how they're going to react,” he jokes, watching as Alex's expression lights up as he laughs. 

“True that, sweetheart . Come on, let's head to bed, I'm beat,” Alex says, reaching to grab Henry's hand to drag him down the small hallway and into the taller man's bedroom. They stand awkwardly in the center of the room for a moment before giggling at each other. 

Henry walks over and shuts the bedroom door before bravely pulling his hoodie off over his head, leaving just his thin, white t-shirt, “I normally sleep in just my boxers, but I suppose I'll make an exception for you, dear,” he says, gesturing to his sweatpants. 

Alex flushes and his lips quirk downward in a teasing, dampened smile, “I guess I'll do the same then, since I normally sleep completely naked.” 

Henry promptly chokes on air and shakes his head in shock, turning away from Alex and walking towards his, now that he really thinks about it, tiny bed. 

“You are the absolute bane of my existence,” Henry mutters, climbing onto the mattress and towards the wall, flopping down and facing Alex once more. The man is giggling and pulling his own hoodie off of his head, tossing it over by the laundry hamper in Henry's room. His dark blue shirt rides up slightly from the movement and Henry can't help but stare at the small patch of skin before it's covered again. And if Alex notices, he doesn't say anything. 

Alex climbs into the bed next to Henry and the two shuffle around for a few moments before stopping and looking at each other. 

“I suppose we might as well just get it over with, right?” Alex asks, and Henry only has a moment to ponder what was said before being pulled into a strong chest, an equally strong arm draping over his waist. 

“Oh, I- alright, then,” Henry stammers out, blush rising to his cheeks once more and he, not for the first time, curses his ancestors as he looks up through his lashes at Alex. This time he curses them for his pale complexion and inability to hide any redness. 

Alex grins at him, “This okay? I figure it's going to happen anyway with how small your bed is.” 

Henry nods, at a loss for words, and decides to just embrace the situation, shuffling to get comfortable and resting his head on the pillow beneath him. Alex does the same and before the two of them know it, they're passed out, the only sound left in the room being David's snoring from down on the floor where he'd fallen asleep himself. 

—

The next night, the four of them decide to go to a club down the road for a couple of drinks. Henry almost dies on the spot when Alex walks out of his bedroom dressed in a black cropped t-shirt and dark blue jeans, curls tousled attractively. There's about 4 inches of hard stomach on display that Henry just wants to bite . He ignores this thought for everyone's sake, not just his, this time. 

Henry dresses in a fitted light blue t-shirt and blue jeans, having to change after both Alex and Nora yelled at him for originally putting on a button-down shirt and chinos. Though even he has to admit that his current outfit looks much better for a club setting, as out of his comfort zone as he may be. 

The girls are dressed beautifully, with Nora in a dark blue mini-dress and black heels, and June in a white cropped shirt and dark blue mini-skirt, also paired with black heels. Matching and looking adorable together. 

Alex and Nora choose to pregame their night with three shots of vodka each, June and Henry decidedly not doing that. And before they know it, they're walking down the street to a club that Henry couldn't remember the name of for the life of him. 

Upon entering, they're greeted with loud, booming music and a good atmosphere. Alex had mentioned in passing that it was an LGBTQ+ friendly bar and Henry could tell. While he wasn't used to the club scene, seeing same-sex couples openly together and happy makes his heart swell. 

The four of them make their way over to the bar and order their first round of drinks before wandering around to find an open table, leaving a tab open under Alex's name and card. They eventually find a booth in the corner and crowd into it, June and Nora on one side, Henry and Alex on the other. 

“God, I love coming here whenever I'm in town. Don't you, babe?” Nora says, turning to June while sipping at her drink. June nods and leans forward to kiss Nora on the cheek before responding, “Yeah, it's one of the better ones. Have you been here before, Henry? I know Alex has.” 

“Ah, no, I haven't. Clubbing isn't exactly a go-to of mine, if I'm honest. Though it seems really nice. How long have you guys been coming here?” Henry asks, stirring and sipping at his own drink, a gin and tonic. 

Alex responds for them, “I found this place actually, don't let these two lie to you, Hen. I found it, like, two years ago and we visit every time they're in town,” he says, grinning while biting onto the straw of his drink, looking up sideways at Henry. 

“Oh, so it's your place now, is it?” Henry says, unable to look away from Alex's eyes, watching the man blinking rapidly as if his lashes are too heavy for him to hold up for long. 

“Yes, Henry, it is.” 

“Okay, enough flirting, you two. Henry, what do you do for fun then? You said clubbing isn't really your thing, which is fair,” Nora says, a smirk on her face as she watches the two men floundering at her comment. 

“Oh we weren't- I-” Henry pauses and sighs, shoulders slumping. He supposes it felt a bit like flirting, at least on his end. He continues, “I like to read, actually. And write, but I've only just recently found the time to do so.” 

June's eyes light up, “Oh, I love that! What kind of books do you read?” 

The two then get caught up in a conversation about Jane Austen and Lord Byron, along with some of the recent fiction books the two have been reading. He notices Alex watching him out of his peripheral vision, but is too caught up in conversation to mind. Eventually, Nora gets up to go get another round of drinks for everyone and he looks over at Alex for a moment while June is speaking. 

They make eye contact and Alex looks so happy and fond that it makes Henry's stomach twist into a knot. He turns his attention back to June so he doesn't do something stupid like kiss him in front of everyone – he's not even tipsy enough to call it a drunk mistake. 

Nora returns with the drinks and eventually their conversation ends, and a new one begins with all four of them involved. Hours pass, shots are had, and drinks are downed and by the time everyone is ready to head out, it's close to midnight and all of them are too drunk to walk straight. Alex closes his tab and everyone sends him their half, which they'll see if the totals were anywhere near accurate tomorrow. 

They all stumble into Alex and Henry's apartment, giggling and dizzy. Nora collapses onto the kitchen floor, laughing all the way down. June joins her and the two are cuddling on the ground, pressing soft kisses to each other's lips. Alex grins and steps over them, shakily grabbing four water bottles from the fridge and dropping two of them near the girls and handing one to Henry. 

“Hydrate, ladies. And Hen. Ladies and Hen. Hen-tleman,” Alex giggles, leaning in real close to Henry's face before backing away again. Henry has been standing still, swaying slightly, and almost falls backwards when he goes to move, only to find Alex has grabbed him around his waist to hold him steady. 

“Mm, thank you, ‘lex.” 

Alex grins, “Anytime, sweetheart.” 

The girls have stopped kissing and are just drunkenly sprawled out on the floor, praising its cold temperature against their heated skin. Henry is tempted to join them but opts instead for heading to his bedroom, hearing as Alex checks in with the girls before following him. 

They stumble into the bedroom and Henry groans as he remembers he still has to take David out and feed him before he can pass out. He drops his water bottle on the floor and turns to look at Alex. 

“What's up, Hen?” 

“Haf'ta feed Davey, and take ‘im to the loo,” he pouts, and Alex mimics the expression before his face lights up. 

“We can do it together. I'll go down with you, safer that way anyway.” Henry nods at Alex's proposition and then the three of them are heading back outside, a leashed David in tow. Once they carefully manoeuvre themselves down the stairs, they exit the building and head over to the tiny patch of grass next to their building. 

They stand in silence for a moment while David does his business and stumble back inside afterwards, too drunk to say much. Once back in the apartment, Henry unclips David from his leash and all three of them head back to the bedroom. Alex grabs the little measuring cup next to David's food bin and fills it up and pours it into the bowl. 

“Davey, sit. Good boy. Okay, go!” 

Henry smiles at the sight, not exactly sure when Alex learned their routine, but allowing himself to just enjoy the moment, too out of it to question it. The two men then take turns getting undressed while the other has their back turned and eventually they're ready for bed, clothed in matching t-shirts and grey sweatpants. They giggle when they realise and fall into bed, Henry near the wall again. 

They press close together similar to the night before, and Alex tosses his arm over Henry's waist again, pulling him even closer. 

The pair lock eyes and just stare at each other for a moment, the room deadly quiet beside the sound of their own breathing. Henry can faintly hear the girls giggling as they make their way into Alex's room, footsteps heavy and uneven. 

If someone were to hold a gun to Henry's head and ask him who leaned in first, he still wouldn't be able to answer. 

Suddenly their lips are pressed together in a dry slide that makes Henry's head spin and heart swell. He could taste the liquor on Alex's breath and briefly remembers that they forgot to brush their teeth. But beyond the taste of alcohol, there's something that's so distinctly Alex that Henry thinks he's been ruined. There will never be another first kiss that makes him feel so full and wanted as the drunken press of Alex’s lips against his. 

It's over before they know it and their foreheads are pressed together, both men breathing slightly heavy as they catch their breaths. Henry can't seem to rip his eyes away from Alex's face, moving between his eyes and his lips, going a little cross-eyed as he does, noses bumping together.  

Alex huffs out a laugh and whispers, “God, I've been wanting to do that since I saw you in that cafe.” 

Henry feels like the rug has been ripped out from underneath him and draped over his head. He's so stunned he almost doesn't respond, but finds the words last second. 

“Same here, love.” 

Alex hums happily and leans in once more to press a kiss soft as the air around them to Henry's lips and pulls back, “Talk about this tomorrow? Please?” 

Henry nods, “Yeah, of course.” 

Henry lays his head on Alex's chest and the two fall into a peaceful, dreamless sleep. What dreams are to be had when they're holding onto each other? 

—

The next morning comes and goes, and finally Henry begins to stir awake, eyes crusty and head pounding. He's still wrapped in Alex's arms and feels himself smile despite the pain radiating from his skull. 

Slowly but surely the memories from the night before start to flood his brain and the smile on his face only widens. He looks up at Alex, who is still passed out, and just… watches him, for a moment. The worry lines in his face are non-existent when he's asleep, Henry notes. 

His lips are slightly parted and soft puffs of air escape them and he breathes softly. His eyelashes are fanned out across his cheek, fluttering slightly and making Henry's heart shoot up into his throat. 

Alex is beautiful, Henry thinks. 

Henry knows. 

He remains in his arms as the sun reaches its highest point in the sky, and finally Alex begins to stir awake. First, his lashes flutter quicker, and he sucks in a deep breath through his nose before wincing, likely with a similar headache to the one Henry is sporting. 

Then the grip he has on Henry's waist tightens before his eyes shoot open and their gazes meet in the middle. He seems relieved that Henry is still there and for just a moment, Henry imagines a world in which he'd run away, a world where he leaves Alex alone – but shuts that thought down before it has the space to go anywhere. 

A part of him thinks he should be panicking, should be running for the hills. But another, bigger, part of him wants to see where this will go. Their kiss the night before had been… magical, and Henry can't imagine that Alex kisses just anyone like that, even drunk. 

“Mmm, hey, sweetheart,” Alex says, voice a few octaves deeper and raspy, cheek still pressed against his pillow. 

Henry smiles softly, “Hey, love.” 

Alex grins at him and whispers, “So you remember?” 

“How could I forget?” 

The two are grinning at each other, before Henry makes the decision for the both of them to get up. He begins to untangle himself from Alex's grasp but the man just tightens his grip and pouts, “Where are you goin’?” 

“I, dear, am going to brush my teeth and take some painkillers so we can have that conversation I promised you,” Henry says, reaching up to place a quick kiss on the tip of Alex’s nose. 

Immediately, Alex lets go of Henry and moves to sit up himself, groaning at the pain in his head. Henry sits up as well and winces, feeling the same pain, “God, remind me not to do shots with Nora ever again.” 

Alex snorts, “Yeah, try telling her that.” 

The two finally force themselves to stand up and make their way to the bathroom across the hall. They stand next to each other while they brush their teeth, grinning stupidly at each other, twin blushes on their faces. 

They make their way into the kitchen and Henry pours out a couple ibuprofen for the both of them, dumping two into Alex's awaiting hand. They down a bottle of water each and take note of the fact that June and Nora were still passed out in Alex's room. Alex goes to make a pot of coffee while Henry takes David outside again and eventually they meet back up in the living room once everything has been taken care of. 

They plop down onto the couch and just sit there for a moment, gaining their bearings, knowing that everything could change between them in just a matter of moments. As if it hadn't changed already the moment their lips met each other in the dead of night. 

“So, I-” 

“I guess I should-” 

They pause, and laugh. Henry gestures for Alex to go first. 

“So, uh, I guess I want to start by asking if last night was real for you, or if it was just us being drunk. Because I know the answer for me but I want to make sure we're on the same page before I continue,” Alex says tentatively, bravely making eye contact with Henry while he fidgets with his hands. 

Henry admires Alex's bravery in all situations, but especially so in a moment like this one, where everything is on the line. Henry decides it's time for him to be brave, too. 

“It was so real for me, Alex. If anything, the alcohol just gave me the courage to do what I've been wanting to for months,” Henry swallows hard, feeling his heart beating in his throat. Alex's face lights up and then softens, looking so in love he could die. 

Henry can relate to that. 

“Good, good. Because, ah, I, uh, I am so into you, Henry. I have been since I saw you in that cafe and it's only gotten worse since then. I'm honestly shocked I didn't kiss you sooner,” Alec says, shaking his head in disbelief during the last sentence. 

Henry blushes, looking down at the sofa for a moment, just taking everything in. He looks back up at Alex with a soft smile on his face, “I'm so into you, too, Alex. It's been kind of killing me, actually.” 

The two take a moment to just process that, knowing now that their feelings for each other are reciprocated. Alex reaches forward then, grabbing Henry's hand and holding it properly for the first time. Not grabbing the back of his hand, not to pull him somewhere – just to hold. They stare at their joined hands for a moment before Alex speaks up again. 

“So, what, uh- what does this mean, for us, exactly?” 

Henry stops short, thinking about it properly. He knows what he wants, and he knows that Alex wants it too. He has so much going on in his life already, but he feels genuinely ready to handle one more thing. So, he takes the leap. 

“I think this means I want you to be my boyfriend, if you're amenable to that.” 

Alex snorts, “ ‘Amenable’ , he says. Fucking amenable. Of course, Hen, I'd love to be your boyfriend. I think I'd die if that wasn't your response actually.” 

Henry breathes a laugh through his nose and leans forward into Alex's space to press a firm kiss to his lips, murmuring against them, “Dramatic.” 

They pull back and Alex grins at him, “Not dramatic enough actually, I'm being tame so I don't scare you off.” 

Henry frowns slightly, “Don't you ever hold back for me, I want all of you, dramatics included.” 

Alex flushes, “Fuckin’ sap.” 

They lean towards each other again and kiss, and kiss, and kiss until they can't breathe . Until their lips are numb. Until- 

“Holy shit, I fucking knew it . June get out here, holy shit!” 

—

One Year Later 

— 

Henry is just returning home from a really good therapy session, David coming up to greet him at the door, when Alex calls to him from the kitchen. 

“Baby! Welcome home!” Alex says, extending nearly every vowel in the sentence for good measure. Henry walks up to the high-top table to greet him with a lingering kiss, both of them smiling into it. 

“Hi, love, why so excited today?” 

His boyfriend is usually pretty excited to welcome Henry home, more like a golden retriever than a man, but today he seems to be vibrating out of his skin. 

“Because,” He says, extending the vowels again, “Look what the mailman just dropped off.” 

Alex holds up a cardboard box, the sender's name written in bold lettering across the top. It's from the publishing company that Henry had been working with for the past six months. 

Henry gasps in shock. 

“Oh, my god, it's here? It's here! Give me that, oh, my god, Alex.” 

Alex happily shoves the box into Henry's hands and bounces up and down in his seat while he waits for him to open it. Henry picks at the perforated edge and rips it open, finally getting his hands on the object inside. 

The first ever copy of the book he started working on over a year beforehand. 

Tears fill his eyes as he takes in the dark grey cover, the gold lettering of the title and his own name plastered on the front. It's a hardcover, heavy in his hands and Henry almost pinches himself to make sure he's not dreaming. 

“It- oh, my god, love, it wasn't supposed to come until tomorrow!” Henry feels a few tears fall and he moves the book out of the way, not wanting a single one to fall onto his new prized possession. 

And then, he remembers what he did. 

Henry glances up at Alex with teary eyes, only to be met with a silently crying boyfriend. 

“Oh, love, come here.” Henry gently sets the book down on the table and wraps his arms around Alex's neck, pulling him in close and pressing a kiss to his temple. 

“I'm just so fucking proud of you, baby. You've worked so hard for this and it's finally here .” Alex blubbers, crying into Henry's shoulder why tears fall from both of their eyes. 

“Thank you so much, dear. I love you so much, you know that right?” Henry asks, nerves building up in his stomach. 

Alex laughs through his tears and nods, “Of course, baby, I love you, too. I'm so, so in love with you.” 

Henry smiles and pulls back just far enough to grab the book and hand it to Alex, who takes it into his hands very carefully, like he might break it. 

Alex looks confused, but just stares down at the book in awe for a moment, before looking back up at Henry. 

“Don't you want to open it before I do, sweetheart?” Alex asks, tilting his head in question. 

Henry shakes his own head slightly, and pushes it towards Alex. 

“I can do that in a minute, I want you to read what's on the first page, my love.” 

So, Alex cautiously opens the front flap of the book, and peers down at the words before gasping. Tears fill his eyes once more and he pulls himself back, covering his mouth with one hand and setting the book back down on the table with the other. 

“Baby, oh, my god. I- I can't- you- oh, my god.” 

“I told you. I am so incredibly in love with you, and this is just a small way for me to show it,” Henry says, pressing a kiss to Alex's forehead as the man cries into his chest. 

After a few moments, Alex calms down enough to grab Henry's head with both hands and pulls him in for a lingering kiss, tongues meeting in the middle. They lose themselves in each other, and the book is long forgotten as they get up and stumble to their shared bedroom. 

— 

This book is dedicated to two individuals who have both changed my life in different ways. To my grandmother, for I am your karma. And to my loving boyfriend, Alex, for I am yours. 

Henry Fox

—