Work Text:
Henry is not even through his third episode of bake-off when his phone lights up with the beaming picture of his boyfriend. Disturbed by the sound, David, who had previously been curled up against his legs, raises his head and gives a disapproving sniff along with a grumble.
“Shh, Davey,” he soothes, one hand instinctively going to pet the Beagle’s head as the other reaches for the telephone. “It’s just your dad.”
His finger slides to accept the call without hesitation, despite the pinch of confusion between his brows. The time on his phone reads nine-thirty and Alex left home to meet up with some of his law-school friends merely an hour ago. Certainly too early for any overexcited drunk dials.
Leading up to tonight, Alex was looking forward to going out. During his first year of law school, he finally found the circle of close, true friends that Henry knows he missed during his undergrad experience where he, despite being the centre of much attention, didn’t have many people that truly took part in his life aside from June and Nora. He might not like to admit it, but Henry can read the giddy excitement before every movie night or even the study sessions he shares with his school friends.
And yet, when his boyfriend kissed him goodbye earlier, exhaustion was etched there– that little glimmer he always wears when he is trying too hard to mask the weight on his shoulders. A remnant of long nights and academic-based anxiety attacks in Henry’s arms. A sure sign he is running on empty.
Added to this oddly timed call, Henry thinks he has a right to be concerned.
“Love?”
“Hey, baby.”
The foreboding sensation in Henry’s gut tightens. Over the last year and a bit of being together he’s become a master at scoping out the nuances in Alex’s demeanour, including tone– and he hardly needs to strain to pick up on the weariness that lives there now.
“Hello, darling” he echoes and then, carefully, “are you enjoying your evening?”
A long breath comes in response, crinkled by the phone connection. Henry can picture him, eyes closed in contemplation and bottom lip between his front teeth. He wishes he could reach out through the call to gently pull it free with his thumb.
“Yeah? I mean–“ Alex scrambles. “Yes. Yes, it’s nice. I’m just– I wanted to hear your voice for a second so I went outside.”
That does make Henry smile despite himself. “You know I’m always glad to hear yours as well.”
They stay quiet for a moment. Henry waits to see if Alex will start explaining by himself and when that doesn’t seem to be the case, he keeps his voice soft as he pokes.
“Are you alright?”
What follows is another sigh followed by more silence but this time Henry can tell he’s leading up to something and schools himself to wait until Alex finds the courage.
“I’m– I don’t know? I mean I’m fine, I’m just feeling a little bit off, I guess.” He pauses and promptly backtracks, “Not that it’s not fun! It’s great, we can finally all hang out after exams and– oh, and the guys just started doing Karaoke. Honestly, you should be here, H. Give all of us a sequel to your Freddie Mercury impression.”
He chuckles, the sound tight and not at all his usual boisterous laugh. Henry humours him nonetheless.
“I think the poor man has suffered enough.”
Alex laughs again, this time a bit more like himself. “What are you doing right now?”
“Nothing of note. Bake off and giving loads of head scritches.” As if on cue, David presses his snout against Henry’s unoccupied hand until he gives in with a laugh. “Yes, yes. Impatient, are we, boy?”
There’s a melancholic note in his boyfriend’s voice when he responds. “He gets that from me.”
“He certainly does,” Henry smiles, “though I’m not sure you should be quite as proud of that.”
“Hey, I’m just teaching him to chase his dreams.”
Warmth spreads through him, even despite the obligatory eye roll he sends at his phone. Alex makes him swoon on the daily through many wonderful things and talking about David as if he's theirdog, is near the top of the list, even when he’s kidding around.
The thought is almost enough to distract him from whatever is clearly gnawing at his boyfriend. Almost.
“Do you want to tell me what’s going on?”
A slow breath. “My head hurts.”
“Oh?”
“And I’m tired. Really– really tired.”
Henry sighs, drawing circles over the smooth fur on David’s ear. He can’t say that he’s surprised. This last term has been hard on Alex, as exam seasons always are and Henry can count the nights he didn’t need to drag him to bed at three am over the last few weeks on one hand. Not to mention the out-of-control caffeine consumption.
A crash was always inevitable and Henry was always planning on being right here to catch him when it came. He only hoped it wouldn’t happen this soon– so Alex could enjoy at least one carefree night.
His beautiful, hard working boyfriend of all people would have deserved to. But Henry knows better than to take this call for anything other than it is: a plea to hear what Alex can’t bear to speak out loud.
“Would you like to come home, my love?”
There’s a pause and when Alex pipes up again, his voice is threaded through by a clear tremble.
“But wouldn’t that suck of me? We planned this for weeks and everyone was looking forward to it, myself included. And it’s– I do want to spend time with them, really badly. I can’t just fuck off after an hour to sit around at home, right?”
“Yes,” Henry quickly insists, gently moving David to the side as he sits up from where he was stretched out on the couch, desperate to give Alex his full attention even through the phone. “Yes, you can, Alex.”
He’s learned that Alex, for all his glorious, extroverted self, sometimes still needs the reassurance that it’s okay to carve out time for himself to breathe. It’s a thing Henry suspects he’s never truly learned while he was busy upholding a curated, polished version of himself. Henry can relate in some ways.
They’re lucky, he thinks, to be able to hold each other‘s hands through all of these new lessons.
“It’s been a long few weeks,” he urges, “You’re allowed to be exhausted, just as you’re allowed to do what you know is best for you,” he continues, “Your friends will understand. And should they not then they do not deserve your time at any point.”
Alex sniffs through the connection. Henry aches that he can’t reach out to pull him into a hug right this second.
He waits another moment and when it doesn’t seem that a response will come, Henry sighs.
“Breathe, love. Listen to yourself for a moment and then tell me what it is you want to do tonight.”
Another beat– but when he speaks again, his voice is more collected than before.
“I want…” he sighs. “I want to go home. I want to eat that fucking box of helados that I saved up for after I was done with my exam. I want to stay in bed with you for the next three days and not see anyone else’s face.”
A soft smile takes over Henry’s face. “All good and sensible plans. Anything else?”
“I want to catch up on that show we were watching and snuggle with David. I want…” his voice lowers, sending dangerous shivers over Henry’s spine even through the crinkly connection, “to take you apart the way you deserve. You always look so fucking pretty spread out for me, baby, and I haven’t gotten my hands on you in weeks.”
Henry swallows, mouth suddenly dry and wondering how exactly the conversation got away from him so quickly– not that he’s complaining.
“I’d… certainly be amenable to that.”
Alex laughs, low and throaty. “Amenable, yeah?”
“Shut it, you reprobate. Better make good on your promises then and come home.”
The teasing, flirtatious energy deflates from Alex with another deep breath. “Do you think they’ll be mad at me?”
“I don’t think they will, no,” he hums. “They’re your friends and they would want you to take care of yourself, darling.”
“Yeah,” Alex mutters and Henry can once again picture him, running his hands through his hair nervously. “Okay. I’ll call Cash.”
“No, let me do that. You just go say goodbye to your friends and I’ll make sure there’s a car there for you once you’re ready.”
“Okay,” his boyfriend repeats, a small smile audible in his voice this time, “Thank you.”
“There’s no need,” he waves off, “I can’t wait to see you, love.”
“Me neither, baby.”
With that, Henry lets his boyfriend go and quickly instructs Alex’s security detail to pick him up. Once all of that is handled, he gets to preparing for his arrival by putting their leftover lasagne into the microwave (which is about as far as he’s come to mastering cooking without spontaneous visits from the local fire department) along with a tall glass of water and some aspirin, before he scours their drawers for Alex’s favourite oversized jumper (Henry’s Oxford one), sweatpants (Henry’s as well) and the colourful quilt that June had gifted them last Christmas.
David follows him through the house, nosing at his ankles and once Henry settles back down on the couch, begins whining at the house door as if he’s exactly aware who’s due to walk through any second.
Hardly fifteen minutes later, the sound of a key turning echoes through the walls of the Brownstone. Henry is on his feet within a beat and turns the corner just in time to see a familiar head of curls crouched down to greet an excitedly wiggling Beagle– his heart swells at the sight.
“Hey, buddy, hey– did you miss me, Davey?”
“We did, yes.” Henry smiles from the hallway door frame. Head snapping up, Alex’s brown eyes find him with practised ease and the tiny wrinkles around them make Henry’s heart flutter just like they did on day one.
“Baby,” he breathes. His face is worn but it takes nothing away from the beauty of his smile.
Both of them move at the same time, their arms stretched out as they meet in the middle of the tiny hallway. Henry gathers the love of his life in his arms joyfully, pulling him flush against his chest until their hearts beat together in unison, the way they always ache to do these days.
Alex sags against him, fingers tightening at the back of Henry’s shirt as he noses along his jawline. The warm gush of air as he exhales tickles at the sensitive skin at Henry’s throat and he tilts his head just enough so he can press a few kisses to his boyfriend’s cheeks and nose.
“Welcome home, love,” he whispers to the skin under his lips. He feels the softest of Alex’s smiles more than sees it, but it’s unmistakable nonetheless. It’s the one that’s reserved just for him and David– for their home, their family.
Gently, Henry pulls free just enough so that he can put his palms on the dips of Alex’s waist and carefully manoeuvres him towards the living room.
His boyfriend is pliable under his guidance and when his eyes fall on the pile of clothes and blankets, the glint in them softens unmistakably. He opens his mouth, undoubtedly to thank Henry for something he does not want to be thanked for, so he cuts him off with another kiss, pushing deeper against his lips this time.
When he moves away, Alex’s eyes have glazed over and his expression is slightly dazed. Satisfied with his work, Henry smirks and gestures for him to sit down on the sofa.
“Get comfortable, darling. I’ll warm up the food for you.”
Alex, to his credit, nods mutely and obeys. Henry thinks that being able to render Alex Claremont-Diaz speechless with a single kiss might be his greatest accomplishment in life.
A moment later, he presses the warm plate into his boyfriend’s hands and sets down the water and painkillers on the coffee table before settling next to him. He’s tempted to press a kiss to his curls, so he does and then slots himself around Alex’s torso as he starts eating.
Leaning back into the embrace, his boyfriend hums contentedly.
“Did your friends react well when you left?” Henry asks after a moment of comfortable silence.
“Yeah,” Alex nods. “Everyone was really sweet about it. Good thing about law-school friends is that they understand the stress of it all.”
“I’m glad.”
They remain in comfortable silence until he has finished the food, pushes the plate away and readjusts in their position until he’s firmly sat in the space between Henry’s legs, carefully moving Henry’s arms so that they’re wrapped around his middle and about every inch of his backside is pressed against Henry.
He lets his head fall back against Henry’s sternum, peering up at him with big brown eyes that have had him in a chokehold ever since Rio.
“Hi.”
“Hello there, love.” Henry smiles. “Do you feel any better now?”
“Much.”
With a sigh, he picks up one of Henry’s hands and entangles their fingers together skillfully.
“Put your show on? Please?” he asks, giving him some upside-down puppy dog eyes which are wholly unnecessary given that Henry can so rarely resist his pleas for anything.
Bake-off is his comfort program primarily but he knows that, by some sort of pavlovian reaction, it has begun being a calming presence for Alex as well, so he turns the TV back on without further comment.
It’s hours later, several episodes past where they started, when Alex starts picking up their conversation again without any preamble. His eyes are half hidden by his drooping lids and he’s muttering where his face is still pressed to the fabric of Henry’s shirt.
“You know, I don’t think I’ve ever really had this before.”
Used to his boyfriend’s unconventional ways of conversation, Henry simply hums. “Had what before?”
“A place like this to come back to. Because– I don’t know.” He shrugs. “Back when I was in my early twenties, I was on the go for weeks on end even all through my studies and I never… craved being home as much and as quickly as I do now.”
Warm, familiarly calloused fingers find Henry’s hands and gently clasp them.
Henry huffs out a small laugh as their fingers entangle. “Perhaps you’ve simply lost your youthful spark?”
Alex tilts his head back to flash a lazy smirk at Henry.
“You’re older than me, Wales. Don’t get cocky.”
He opens his mouth to retort, but Alex gently shushes him by raising their conjoined knuckles to his mouth and pressing kisses there to the sensitive skin.
“It’s not that.”
That shuts Henry up effectively. He’s a romantic any day of the week, a fact that everyone who has had more than a superficial conversation with him is aware of. But what people don’t know is that Alex, for all his dismissive exterior, has just as big of a soft spot for cheesy gestures as he does.
No one but him knows that he comes home with flowers at least once a week or that he leaves sappy post-its on the fridge every morning he leaves home before Henry and, that he takes every chance he gets to lose himself in a romantic tangent. All of that is reserved for Henry and his own battered and bruised, hopelessly romantic little heart.
They fit together like that. And he would be a fool if he ever refused to bask in the excess of Alex’s endless affection, enthusiasm and warmth.
This time Alex fully flips himself over until Henry has a clear view of the molten expression on his face, looking up at him with enough reverence to make Henry think ridiculous thoughts that include grand proposal speeches and wedding vows.
“It’s… this.” He nods towards the room around them. “It’s our house with our things and our dog, where I know that I don’t need to– to be anything other than myself. And that’s you, sweetheart. More than anything else, it’s you.”
He squeezes their hands gingerly before continuing. “I love the space we made for ourselves. I still like going out and being in the middle of a crowd but it’s never the same, knowing that I’ve got you to come back to.”
The smile that grows on Henry’s face is so wide it aches. Leaning forward, he catches Alex’s mouth with his, freeing one hand out of their clasp so that he can place it on the side of his boyfriend’s face, cupping the familiar curve and hopes that even a fraction of the love in his chest carries over.
When they pull apart, their faces still hover only inches from each other.
“Alex, you have been my home since I woke up next to you in a Paris hotel room,” he mutters, eyes roaming over his boyfriend’s face. “And during most of my life I never imagined I’d have a place that truly feels like mine . So I do hope you know that feeling is utterly and entirely mutual.”
Propped up on Henry’s chest, Alex grins up at him and places a delicate kiss on the spot where his heart beats.
“I know, baby.”
Moving his hand up to push back some unruly curls, he quietly ponders if his boyfriend can feel the way his heart is hammering against his ribs. It’s amazing how so many of the things Alex does still have the same lovestruck effect on him.
“So you’re okay having left early tonight?” he asks carefully.
Alex scrunches his brows together and blows out a contemplative breath.
“It still sucks a little. I really wanted to hang out with those guys and– yeah. I don’t know.” His shoulders pull up in a shrug. “It was the right decision, but it feels like failing anyway.”
“You’ll meet up with them again, once you feel more up to it.” Henry gently admonishes, fingers still threading through Alex’s hair. He can tell how tired he is just by the fact that he isn’t complaining about his curls being messed up, leaning into the touch instead.
“And listening to your body is never a failure. I’m very proud of you for recognising your limits, love.”
A corner of Alex’s mouth quirks up. “Appealing to my praise kink? You’re playing dirty, Fox.”
Feigning innocence, Henry blinks down at him.
“I reject that notion.”
With a laugh, Alex sways forward, one hand tugging at his collar. “Whatever. Thank you for bringing me home.” He lets his head fall back onto Henry’s chest.
Blood rushes to Henry’s cheeks and he needs to sink his teeth into his bottom lip to stop the goofy smile from spreading. He continues his caress through soft strands, carefully untangling any knots his fingers meet and tilts his head just enough to lightly kiss his beautiful boyfriend’s forehead, lingering just enough to breathe in the smell he’s come to associate with love and home and safety.
He'd dismiss the gratitude, say that there is nothing to thank him for– because there isn't– if he wasn't so acutely aware of what Alex means when he says things like that.
Thank you for hearing me.
Alex, in many things he does, is nothing but loud and boisterous and bold. But when he calls out for help, it’s quiet. It’s brief glances and half uttered words, it’s fingers twitching to reach out only to dig into his own palm instead. Through a miraculous twist of fate, some good deed in a past life, Henry has been blessed by being the person Alex calls out to, no matter how subtly.
He made it his life’s mission to make sure that no single plea goes unnoticed.
“Always, my love.”
Lips twitching upwards, Alex nuzzles further into his touch, clearly half asleep already. In the background, Bake Off is still playing and yet Henry doesn’t even consider taking his eyes off of his boyfriend's face, slightly smushed but more relaxed than he has seen in weeks. Beautiful– if he had to choose a word to summarise.
He watches the even breaths flow in and out until his own eyes grow heavy too. When he finally drifts off, it’s to Alex’s soft snores, warm thoughts of love and home.
Every day with Alex is another glimpse into their future– their forever, their life , shining bright and golden. And by God, is it glorious.
Henry can’t wait to soak up every second.