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When Henry enters their house, the first thing that catches his attention is the tempting aroma of freshly baked cookies. The next thing he notices is his lovely husband, wearing Henry's monogrammed apron and looking deliciously rumpled. His glasses rest on his nose, and his curls are slightly tousled as he places a tray of still-warm cookies on the kitchen counter.
"Love, these smell heavenly," Henry remarks instead of a traditional greeting, to which Alex responds with a grin.
"Hey, baby. How was your day?"
Henry reaches for a cookie, but Alex bats his hand away. “Wash your hands first.”
“Yes, Papi,” he retorts mockingly but complies nonetheless.
Henry leans in to kiss Alex. He feels the softness and warmth of Alex’s lips, humming softly into the kiss. After a quick trip to the sink to wash his hands, he returns to his husband for a proper greeting. Henry wraps his arms around Alex’s neck as his husband wraps his around his waist. They exchange a fond look, their noses brushing, before they lose themselves in a passionate, lingering kiss.
“I thought you were craving a cookie?” Alex asks, a mischievous twinkle in his eyes once they come up for air.
“What cookie?” Henry replies with a dazed smile, leaning for another kiss.
The front door slams with a sudden, jarring bang, and they both startle. Their intimate moment is brutally interrupted, and they regretfully let go of each other.
“Dad! Papi!”
Emilia June Fox-Claremont-Diaz, their little hurricane, bursts into the kitchen, her curly chestnut hair bouncing with each step and a beaming smile lighting up her pretty face, radiating her excitement.
“What’s with the banshee wail? And by the way, you’re paying for that hole you just made in the entry wall," Alex says, a hint of a smile on his lips.
Millie completely ignores him. “You’ll never guess who is coming to Austin in July,” she exclaims, her voice high-pitched and vibrating with excitement.
“The Queen of England,” Henry quips, and Alex snorts.
In most households, this might be taken as a joke, but not in theirs. The Queen of England was actually coming to spend a fortnight with her son, son-in-law, and granddaughter.
Millie rolls her eyes. “Haha. I thought Papi talked to you about the dad jokes. Anyway, I love Grandma, but no, it’s October Sun. Can you get a ticket, please? Please, please, please?”
She gives Alex her best puppy eyes and pouty lips, a tactic she knows works better on him than on Henry. To be fair, Henry is far from immune himself, but since Alex always had a hard time refusing his little girl anything, Henry had to step in from time to time and be the reasonable parent. To be even more fair, Henry sometimes couldn’t say no either, and Alex was the level-headed party. Thankfully, they had managed to find a perfect balance over the years.
“Wait, which one is October Sun? Is that the band with the lead singer who looks like Dad?” Alex asks, and Henry can't help but sigh.
“Yes! Just, you know, much younger.”
“Delighted to hear I’m a decrepit version of a boy band singer,” Henry says, taking offense. He is not even 40 years old, for fuck’s sake. But he supposes that it seemed dreadfully ancient in the eye of a 14-year-old girl.
When October Sun rose to fame, the internet couldn't help but notice the uncanny resemblance between the lead singer and Henry. The rumor mill went into overdrive, with some suggesting he could be a secret love child even though Henry was only 14 years his senior and, as most of the world knew by now, had never slept with a woman in his life. More trashy magazines ran with unhinged theories, like the lead singer being a clone of Henry or a shape-shifting alien who had assumed his form. Alex had made a top ten list once of the craziest ideas, which Millie had found extremely funny, but Henry not so much.
Alex kisses him on the cheek. “This guy has nothing on you, babe. You’re way sexier.”
Henry’s face lights up with a smile as he tugs him by his apron strap, pressing a soft kiss to his lips to show his appreciation for his husband’s devotion.
Millie sighs. She knows better than to interrupt her parents when they are having a moment, but her patience is limited in this case. “OK, but can we stop with the gross kissing and talk about the concert? It’s super important to me, guys.”
Henry takes pity on her and releases his husband. “What do you think?” he asks, although he already knows that a negative answer is not in the cards. If it makes their daughter happy, they will do everything in their power to keep her that way.
Alex, mirroring Henry's sentiments, shrugs and smiles.“I don’t see any problem with it,” he echoes.
Millie emits a piercing squeal, causing Henry to cringe slightly, but the pure joy shining on the teenager's face makes it worth it.
"Should I grab tickets for both of us or would you prefer to go with Dad?" Alex inquires while tidying the kitchen counter.
She makes a strangled noise and has the good grace of looking sheepish. “Uh…Neither of you?”
Henry raises an eyebrow, and Alex crosses his arms. “Oh really?”
“It’s just that May’s mom has already agreed, and her big sister will come with us. She’s 19,” she explains, referring to her best friend.
Alex lets out a disappointed sigh. "What if I wanted to witness a younger, sweatier version of Dad, bouncing around and belting out tunes on stage? A throwback to the days when he ruled with his own rendition of 'Don't Stop Me Now'?"
“Christ, Alex.” Henry chides, though they share a fond, knowing smile at the memory.
“First of all, gross. Second, it’s not exactly your kind of music.”
Alex scoffs. “Will you stop with the age shaming? I’ll have you know that the music I used to listen to was way cooler than most of the crap we hear now.”
“October Sun is not that bad, actually, “Henry chimes in, finally taking a cookie. His husband and daughter look at him in unison. “What? It’s catchy.’
He starts humming one of their most popular songs, but the lyrics don’t quite come to mind, so he improvises a bit.
Millie laughs.“Those are not the lyrics, Dad.”
“So?” He shrugs and reaches out for another cookie. “I’m a writer. I make my own lyrics,” he says, biting into the delicious treat, relishing the blend of chocolate and cinnamon. Alex has many, many talents, and his baking is among the top five. Henry made much progress in the kitchen over the past decade, but Alex has always been a natural.
Alex plants a kiss on Millie’s forehead. “Time for homework, Mija. I highly doubt November Rain will get it done for you.”
“October Sun,” she corrects him, her smile a mix of exasperation and affection. “I love you both, and you are super cool Dads and not that old.”
“Yes, that statement feels genuine and not at all interested,” Henry retorts sarcastically.
“But still not cool or young enough to see January Snow with you, though,” Alex adds shrewdly.
“Ok, now I know you’re doing this on purpose. Please wait for me to leave before you start smooching again?" Millie quips playfully before leaving the kitchen.
As she exits, Henry nestles back into Alex's embrace. "She's growing up too fast," he muses wistfully.
Alex chuckles. "Thinking about starting over with another one?"
“If I’m too old to go to a boys band concert, I’m definitely too old to get pregnant,” Henry jokes.
He lets out a soft gasp as Alex’s hand slides under his shirt, and his fingers graze the smooth curve of his waist.
“Doesn’t mean we can’t try.”
****
Later that night, Alex still wears his glasses as he reads in bed. From the ensuite bathroom threshold, Henry gazes at him lovingly, planning to show Alex exactly how much he appreciates the glasses and the sexy stubble adorning his chin in a few minutes.
But first…
Henry turns on the Bluetooth speaker, opens Spotify, and plays the song he hummed earlier in the kitchen. Alex looks up, a surprised smile lifting his lips.
Grabbing his toothbrush, Henry leans against the door jamb in what he hopes is a sexy, seductive stance. He begins singing, determined to refrain from butchering the lyrics this time.
“ I know that you're a little bit older
But baby, rest your head on my shoulder
Before it gets a little bit colder
I want to get closer to you
Girl, we could keep it going the whole night
Or do a little more in the moonlight
Just let me get your number and your time
'Cause I want to get closer to you.”
Alex puts his book down and pushes back the covers, crawling to sit on the edge of the bed. He lets out an appreciative whistle.
Henry squats down along the doorframe, aiming for a smoldering look at his husband. He’s not sure he’s succeeding, but he can't help a smug smile when Alex’s eyes linger lustfully on his thighs.
“Not too bad for an old guy, huh?”
Alex rolls his eyes. “Henry, you’re 39.”
“I know, but these guys are like 20 years old. But none of them have written a book or abdicated. Or had a sexual scandal. Oh no, wait, I think one of them did. Never mind.”
Alex bites his lip, obviously trying not to laugh. “Sweetheart, are you having a midlife crisis already?”
Henry thinks about it for a minute. “No, I don’t think so. And I just gave you a Grammy award performance, so…” He stands between Alex’s knees, threading his fingers through his curls. He’s due for a haircut, but the length has its benefits. Sex-related benefits that they both enjoy very much.
“Are those the actual lyrics, by the way ?” Alex asks, gesturing to the Bluetooth speaker where the song is still playing. Henry turns it off.
“Yes. The singer had an affair with an older woman a couple of years ago. It was all over the gossip rags.”
Alex pouts. “So he’s less hot and straight? I think I’ll stick with the decrepit version, thank you very much.”
Henry leans in, his lips brushing his husband’s before pulling back. “You haven’t rated my performance yet,” he teases.
“Baby, it was fabulous. Beyonce and Taylor Swift are weeping with envy right now.”
“I detect a hint of mockery.”
Alex breathes out a fake offended gasp. “Sweetheart, I would never. Just don’t quit your day job, ok? We need to pay the bills, somehow.”
Henry shakes his head and pushes him back on the bed before joining him, crawling over him on all fours. Alex lifts a leg and wraps it around his waist. “Are you ready for your senior husband to rock your world, darling?”
Alex waggles his eyebrows. “So ready. But don’t break a hip or something.”
Henry snorts and gives him a playful smack on his butt. “I’ll show you who’s in danger of breaking a hip,” he says with a mock growl. He lowers himself, pressing his body against Alex's, his lips trailing soft kisses along his neck.
Alex shivers, a smile playing on his lips. “You’re going to have to do better than that, old man,” he whispers, his voice laced with playful challenge.
Henry’s eyes shine mischievously. “Oh, I intend to,” He says, capturing Alex’s lips in a deep kiss.
Their banter fades as Henry pulls back slightly, his breath warm against Alex's mouth. “I don’t mind getting old as long as I’m doing it with you,” he whispers, a surge of emotion clogging his throat.
Alex smiles, his hand gently cupping Henry's cheek. “I promised you forever, remember?”
Henry’s heart swells with love as he gazes into Alex’s eyes. “Now, let’s see about that world-rocking, shall we?”
Alex laughs, pulling Henry closer. “Bring it on.”