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“Cheers to us for surviving another week in hell,” Nora says, raising her glass and clinking it against June’s.
“What about me?” Alex asks indignantly, pouting over the rim of his vodka lime and soda. He has to raise his voice slightly to be heard above the din. They sit clustered together in a booth of their favourite off-campus bar, half-price drinks between them and the guitar and saxophone of tonight’s live entertainment pressing in on them.
“You’re not in grad school, babe,” Nora replies, shooing him with a flick of her hand.
“Yeah, sorry lil bit,” June says, shaking her head, “You wouldn’t get it. Maybe when you’re big and grown like Nora and I, here-” she giggles as Alex huffs.
“Y’all are the worst. Grad school this, grad school that. I won’t stand for erasure of undergraduate suffering,” he announces, slapping the edge of the table. It’s sticky under his fingers. He tries not to grimace about it.
Nora and June laugh again and Nora winds her arms around Alex’s neck and pulls him close, smacking a kiss on his cheek. “Calm down, dramatic bitch.”
“Alex,” June says, reaching across the table and grabbing his hands. “Tell us, darling brother of mine, tell us all about your suffering.”
“Well, for starters,” he begins, grimacing as Nora ruffles his hair. “I had my major paper due-”
“Major paper!” June mock gasps. “Nora did you hear that?”
“Your major paper-” Nora claps her hands together and leans close again. “No fucking way, at the end of the semester?”
“Let me finish!” Alex argues, pouting again at them. “My major paper was due across most of my classes. And. AND!” he holds up his hands, eyeing them seriously. “And Hunter Montgomery-”
“Okay no, Alex wins,” June says immediately, leaning back and raising her drink at him.
“Yeah, that’s fair,” Nora agrees and nods morosely.
“Knew you’d see it my way,” Alex chirps and, finally, clinks his glasses with theirs. “Honestly, between George and I-”
“George, George, George,” Nora rolls her eyes. “Tell us about this George. He’s not replacing us is he?”
“Speak for yourself,” June tells her.
“Fine. Me. I need details, Alejandro.”
Alex feels himself go red. From the moment George Fox had sat down beside him in their Ethics in International Relations class on the first day of semester, he’d been drawn to him. They’d sat at the same table all semester, swapping jokes and bouncing off each other’s energy whilst their seatmates had struggled to get a word in edgewise. George is funny, and intelligent and he’d put Alex onto Dan Drezer’s Theories of International Politics and Zombies.
He knows Nora and June presume he has a crush on George. Alex isn’t so sure. But, he can’t deny the chemistry between them and the sense of easiness he feels around him. So, like… maybe he does? He hadn’t realised the Liam Thing, after all. Not until talking it over with June and Nora.
The Liam Thing. It had only been a few weeks since he’d bumped into him in the city and all the memories had come rushing back. The nights spent curled in Liam’s bed, lips pressed together and hands wandering. The mutual jerk-off sessions. The way he used to automatically search for Liam’s smile in the crowds after high school debates. The fact that Liam used to actually go and watch his high school debates and take him for ice cream afterwards.
Yeah, so he definitely isn’t as hetereosexual as he thought he was.
“You’re blushing,” June notes.
“I’m not.”
“Hmmmmm,” Nora squints and holds up her thumb and forefingers in a square shape. “Nah, definitely blushing.”
“We’re just friends,” Alex tells them. It’s true enough. Though, George hadn’t come to their final class of the semester so Alex had lost out on … well, following up? He has George on Instagram, but in the acquaintance way, not in the we’re friends who hang out and can randomly message each a what’s up type way.
Is he overthinking this? He could just send a what’s up. That’s something that he could do. Should do?
“Alex!”
He jerks out of his thoughts as Nora waves a hand in front of his nose, very nearly whacking it. “What?”
“We said,” June repeats, “Your turn to shout.”
Alex groans but downs the last of his drink. “The aud-” he stops as he spots a familiar head of hair across the room, black denim jacket stretched across broad shoulders and silver hoop earring glittering. “Fucking-”
June and Nora’s heads turn in unison and follow his gaze across the cramped bar. Alex swallows hard, nervousness fizzling in his stomach as none other than the topic of their conversation picks his way across the room to the bar.
“Is that-” Nora whispers gleefully.
“Go, Alex,” June hisses, kicking him under the table.
“What?” he asks desperately. “No, I’ll wait a minute.”
“So you do have a-”
“Nora!” he hisses.
“Ask him out,” June persists, eyes gleaming. “What’s stopping you?”
“Uhhh, I don’t wanna make a fool of myself?”
“Too late for that, babe,” Nora says earnestly, “Get your ass up. Time to bag yourself a man.”
Grumbling, but oddly excited at the prospect of finally acting on his newfound realisation, he stands up and strides toward the bar whilst his heart hammers in his chest. The crowd swallows him quickly, thank god, because the thought of June and Nora watching him get rebuffed was enough to send him stomping outside and in front of the nearest fast moving vehicle.
The music and bustle of people fades into nothing but a distant hum as he approaches the bar. He throws his shoulders back and takes a deep breath, fortifying himself. He’s smart; he’s hot. He’s got an ass you can bounce a quarter off and godammit he’s a catch. It’s on George if he can’t see that.
Fucking fuck his stomach is in knots. Still, he slides up to the bar and, in an effort to covertly steal George’s attention, signals to the bartender and shouts his order perhaps a little too loudly over the music. Crap.
It does the job, though. George turns toward him, recognition in the set of his shoulders and the grin on his face. “Alex!” he says in his crisp British accent, picking up his beer and shifting closer.
Alex schools a surprised look on his face, hoping against hope he’s not as transparent as June always says he is. “George!” he responds, smiling at him. He looks good tonight, dressed in dark colours with his almost-mullet and bright hazel eyes.
“How are you?” he asks, tilting his head. “I was hoping to catch you before the end of semester, but I missed our last class.”
His heart skips a beat in his chest. “Is that so?” he asks, more smoothly than he feels. “Me too. I was uh,” his eyes flick to the side as the bartender hands over his other beer and George scoops it up. He leans against the bar and fixes Alex with his attention, though the pivot of his body indicates Alex’s window is closing.
Fucking Christ. He has to do it now. He’s going to ask George out, even if it kills him. “I was wondering if I could get your number?” he asks, blinking and broadening his smile, eyes traveling down George’s broad frame and then back up again.
George’s eyebrows raise. Alex’s heart shutters in his chest as the silence between them stretches past normal and into a pause. “How about I send it to you on Instagram?” he suggests, his lips quirking. “I’d like to chat to you more, Alex.”
Relief washes over him. He finds himself smiling back at him. “I’d like that,” he agrees, but then the bar tender is signalling for him and he digs his phone out to pay. “I’ll, uh,”
“Yeah, we’ll catch up later.” George gives Alex a friendly smile, hazel eyes sparkling, and then disappears, leaving Alex and his erratically beating heart to pay for his drinks.
—
“Hello.”
George plops into the seat across from Henry and smiles brightly at him. His twin glances up from his laptop at the sound of his voice, watching him sit down before turning back to his screen.
“Hi Georgie,” he says, his hands flying across the keys.
“What are you working on?”
“Some instructions for class.” Henry is a teaching assistant at Columbia whilst he does his Masters in English Literature. Whilst both of them had taken a gap year after finishing high school, George’s had stretched into two and Henry had opted to return to Oxford for the 2017 school year.
“Brilliant,” he says, meaning it. But he’s not here for that, so he says without further preamble: “I’ve found you the perfect guy. Go on a date with him.”
Henry doesn’t even bother looking up as he says, “No.”
George frowns at his twin, displeased. “Come on,” he insists. “He’s a good guy. The best guy. You’d love him if you gave him a chance.” He reaches out and flicks Henry’s computer screen before slowly pushing it down, down, down.
His twin sighs as the computer snaps closed. “George - all offence meant - you have the worst taste in men.”
“What do you mean?” George asks indignantly, straightening up. He flicks through his last few partners in his mind’s eye, tossing the girls to the side. “Dustin was-”
“A knob.”
“Very passionate about gaming,” George defends. And his dick had been huge.
“That’s one way to frame it,” Henry says wryly. He leans back and crosses his arms, fixing George with his calm-eyed gaze. “What about Robert?”
George grimaces. “Alright, well-”
“And then you had to fuck his brother?”
“Cousin, actually,” George corrects. “And we didn’t fuck! I didn’t let it get that far.”
“What about Robert Carr made you think his cousin would be any better?” Henry asks, exasperated, still stuck on the former. “The man tried to sabotage your job!”
Okay, true. But, “Hate sex, Henry,” he says wisely, wagging his finger and grinning as Henry rolls his eyes. “Don’t knock a bit of hate sex. Trust me.”
“And Peter?”
“Okay, look, I admit I made a bit of a poor choice there.”
“A bit of a poor choice,” Henry says flatly. “Like your poor choice with your boss?”
“James was hot,” George defends. “And extremely flexible. What is it, pick on George day?”
“And your bosses son.”
“Good genetics in that family, by the way,” he supplies. “Though, I don’t think redheads are for me. Can you stop shaming me now!”
Henry softens and reaches across the table, taking his hand and squeezing it. “I’m not shaming you, George,” he says earnestly. “I’m just not entirely sure you’re the best person to trust when it comes to men. Or dating.”
“You, my darling brother,” George tells him, “Are the biggest hypocrite I’ve ever met. How many boys was it at Magdalen again? Or was it St John’s? And we mustn’t forget Cambridge-gate.”
His twin looks affronted. “I wasn’t dating them, dickhead. I was having sex with them.”
Henry has a point. Whilst Henry prefers the casual intimacy of sexual exploits, George prefers dipping his toe in the dating pool. That said, George is better at letting go and moving on, whereas the moment Henry commits to dating he’s down bad in the deep end. Drowning. George has had to pluck him out by the scruff of his neck once or twice.
Reason number one Alex is perfect for Henry: he’s well-meaning with a heart of gold he wears on his sleeve. He’d look after Henry.
“That reminds me. I miss your slut era and us going out clubbing together,” George whines, screwing up his face. “Now you’re all. Boring and serious.”
“I’m in postgrad now,” Henry points out. “Besides, I have fun.”
“Your idea of fun is ordering take out and watching Bake-Off with David. Unless,” he sits up straighter and narrows his eyes at Henry. “You go out without me? Oh my god, you go out with Pez and don’t invite me!”
“Jealousy isn’t a good look on you,” Henry tells him matter-of-factly. “I’m allowed to have my own friends. Besides, if you must know, I haven’t ventured out in a little while. You might have noticed I’m rather busy.” He gestures to his bundles of documents and computer.
George makes a fart nose into his elbow. “Boring. Sad. But, in that case,” he waggles his eyebrows, “Let me set you up with him. He asked me out but I’m with Katherine, so.”
“So?” Henry arches an eyebrow. “You’re palming him off onto me? No thank you.”
”He’s your type, though,” George pushes.
“I don’t have a type.”
Reason number four Alex is perfect for Henry: he has a fantastic ass and he’s a conscientious student. Henry’s two criteria he’d picked up on during Eton. What more could he ask for?
“Liar. Your pants are on fire. His name is Alex. He’s going to law school next year. And he’s hot as fuck. I’ll show you.”
“Wait,” Henry says slowly. “Alex? The one you’ve mentioned before?”
George grins. “The very same. Do I sense a change of heart?”
“He sounds … adequate,” Henry tries, flushing as George bursts out laughing. “Shut up.”
“Shan’t.” He takes out his phone. He knows Henry is one picture away from caving.
George may not be interested in Alex romantically, but he had mentioned him to his twin more than once whilst they fumbled their way through cooking dinner in their shared flat. Alex was the only part of his Ethics course that made him not want to tug his hair out, and his essay on cosmopolitanism he had shown George had made him more than a little jealous of how flawlessly he stitched his arguments together, even if he personally isn’t a fan of Kant or his idealism.
Reason number ten Alex is perfect for his twin: his idealism and Henry’s pessimism will balance the other out.
“I don’t have the time nor the inclination to date right now,” Henry grumbles but he doesn’t immediately knock George’s hand as he makes an obnoxious scene of typing in Alex’s name on Instagram. George takes that as a win.
He hums as he considers Alex’s instagram, flicking through to find the perfect picture. Across from him, Henry continues to attempt to talk himself out of happiness and marriage and babies and growing old together by saying, “We’re very different people, George. What makes you think an interest in you would in any way lead to an interest in me.”
A picture of Alex campaigning on campus for the democrats during the last election cycle. A picture of him dressed in a navy tux at a college ball. George taps his chin, before finally scrolling across the one. He’s leaning against a fence in a black singlet, all windswept curls and dimpled cheek, brown skin glowing and eyes half moons as he stares into the sun.
“Firstly,” he says to Henry, “Shut up. Secondly, look.”
George shoves his phone in Henry’s face, grinning smugly as his twin’s cheeks immediately flush pink. He bites his lip as his eyes roam over Alex’s face, but catches the lengthening silence giving him away and quickly leans back. “You’re not going to let up until I say yes, are you?”
“Nope,” George says cheerfully.
“Fine,” Henry says, eyeing George’s now blank phone. He’s still blushing. “Set me up with him if you must.”
—
Alexxxxxxx
Heyyy
I just wanted to say thanks for hitting me up
at the Red Room the other night. It’s been
great getting to know you throughout the
semester
Tbh I’m kind of dating someone at the moment
BUT I am an identical twin and he’s gay
if you’d like his number?
oh
well
I should’ve said something the other
night, I was just surprised is all
honestly
this works out too
yes pls
good, bc i’ve already asked him and
he agreed
bet ur glad i agreed then huh
It does make my life easier
Alex
if you ever wanted to grab a beer as mates
let me know
back at you
now abt that number?
—
Alex sits at Wordsmiths Cafe facing the door. It’s a bright, clear morning, and sunlight streams through the windows, igniting the red hues of the mahogany tables and warming Alex’s skin.
His knee bounces under the table, an unconscious habit that has him on the verge of vibrating as he scans the crowds for hazel eyes and brown hair. His phone lays on the table in front of him alongside his coffee, one sugar and one cinnamon stirred in. Part of him wants to pick up the cup and sip, just for something else to do. Another part of him realises there’s every chance he’ll die of caffeine overdose if he downs another drink before George’s twin arrives.
His name is Henry and he’s identical to George. That’s all the information George had given him, and his texts with Henry had been brief and perfunctory. Time, date, place.
Truthfully, Alex had been a little down in the dumps when George had rebuffed him. He doesn’t know what kind of seeing someone even means. But, June and Nora had picked him up and dusted him off (stopped him from pacing and shoved him into an armchair to talk it out) and Alex had come around to the idea of George’s offer. After all, if he meshed well with George, there was every chance he’d mesh well with his twin.
Chewing the inside of his cheek, he picks up his phone and clicks into his chaos trio groupchat for something to do. June and Nora had helped him assemble his outfit last night until he emanated cool and casual and like he could’ve put the outfit together in a matter of minutes. Henry didn’t need to know that yesterday he had flopped on his bed and stared at the ceiling morosely for an hour, a pair of jeans around his ankles until June and Nora had burst through his bedroom door and played dress up and fiddled with his hair.
“Alex?”
Alex glances up from his texts with June and Nora telling him to break a leg and to get some and immediately freezes.
Standing before him is the most beautiful person he’s ever laid eyes upon, and he’s looking at Alex, his full lips still curved around the question. Alex blinks and the café and its bustle fades into the background, like the whole world has recalibrated itself around the blonde - blonde! - man and his inquisitive blue eyes.
Identical twins his fucking ass. Their noses and eye shape and the cut of their jaw might be the same, but Henry …
Fuck. He’s gorgeous. Thick, tawny blonde hair curls gently around his ears, and his broad shoulders accentuate the slimness of his waist, hidden behind his blue cardigan. Cardigan. Alex doesn’t think he owns a cardigan, but quite suddenly he wants one. He’s also rapidly developing an obsession with thick thighs, too. Especially when they’re clad in dark-wash trousers and belong to leggy blondes.
“Hey,” he manages to get out, getting up far too quickly after far too long a pause. His knee bangs rather painfully against the edge of the small table between their chairs, but Alex hardly notices, too busy taking in the way Henry’s cardigan perfectly matches his eyes and the way the shy smile he’s now sporting lights up his face. “I’m Alex. Obviously.” He clears his throat, shoving down a blush. “Can I get you a coffee?”
Henry hovers within arms length. Now that they’re both standing, Alex notices he’s a little taller than George, and broader too. “I’m afraid I’m not a coffee person,” he confesses, British accent smooth and moneyed.
That brings Alex to a halt. “You don’t drink coffee?” he asks, slightly more indignantly than he means.
“Is that a deal-breaker?” Henry quirks an eyebrow at him, and Alex immediately decides he’s obsessed with him.
“Only with people that aren’t you,” Alex recovers, and wiggles his phone between them. “Pick your poison, sweetheart, my shout.”
Henry’s mouth lifts up on one side. His blue eyes glitter. “An Earl Grey with a dash of milk and two sugars would be lovely.”
Alex buys the pretty blonde man an Earl Grey, trying to ignore the fact the barista is well-aware he’s on a first date by the knowing grin on their face, and returns to his corner table after taking a deep breath. He can do this.
Whatever stirrings of interest he’d felt toward George have evaporated completely. Indeed, it feels like the feelings never really existed at all, conjured by boredom or curiosity or desire to explore his newly realised bisexuality. In hindsight, it hadn’t felt … Liam-esque. Maybe that should’ve tipped him off.
He sets Henry’s tea down and settles across from him, itchy with the desire to pick apart his brain and learn more about him. Instead, what comes out is: “This is my first date.”
Fuck.
He wants to dig a hole and disappear into its depths forever. Or maybe he’ll drown himself in his coffee. Or throw himself out the window.
Henry pauses, his tea raised halfway to his mouth. “Ever?” he asks after a moment.
“Date with a guy,” Alex rushes to clarify.
His explanation seems to make things worse. “Oh?” Henry’s brows furrow, the corner of his mouth pinching. The question hangs in the air.
Before he can stop himself, he’s launching into the story. “I thought I was straight for, like, years. I’m twenty-one now and I’ve only ever dated and slept with girls,” he rambles out, his fingers drumming on his leg. “But a few weeks ago I ran into my high school best friend in the middle of the city, just randomly strolling down fifth avenue. I was so happy to see him but he looked at me like I’d sprouted a second head-” he hesitates, dismay churning about inside him. Henry’s face is cautious, but still curious. “Turns out we kinda had a thing in high school but I … missed it?”
“Missed it,” Henry repeats. He cups his mug with both hands and crosses a leg over his knee. “I’m intrigued.”
“So was I!” Alex bursts out, his shoulders pressing back and his eyes widening. “How could I miss something like that! But then, I started remembering things. Things that didn’t seem like a big deal at the time.”
“Such as?”
“Like, I dunno man, we mostly made out after lacrosse games in high school. I just thought everyone kissed their friends for fun.”
Henry stares at him, his expression lightening. Alex swears he’s trying not to smile. “You’re laughing at me,” he says, narrowing his eyes.
“I’m not,” Henry says, but he touches his fingers to his lips to suppress a smile. Alex inadvertently finds himself beginning to smile too. “Please, go on.”
“Well … Teenage guys get excited by the wind.”
The blonde is really trying hard not to laugh now. “True,” he allows.
“We kinda used to … jerk off next to each other?” Alex’s voice lifts at the end. He clears his throat. “And then it kind of turned into … jerking off each other.”
Henry takes a sip of tea and waits patiently. Alex picks up his coffee to busy his hands.
“Anyways,” he says in a rush, “I guess I kind of had a crush on him back then and I didn’t notice. I’m just … not very good at making close friends, and I think I … mixed up the feelings, or … I don’t know. Then I met George and I think I overcorrected the other way, because now that I’m sitting here in front of you I’m realising what I felt for Liam was definitely a crush and what I feel for George is definitely friendship.”
“Now that you’re sitting here in front of me,” Henry repeats, raising his eyebrows. “What do I have to do with it?”
“You’re my control,” Alex says without thinking, and then flushes.
“I thought I was the experiment,” Henry teases, his mouth quirking up again.
Alex flicks his hand dismissively. “Shut up. No. You’re …” he waves his hand at Henry and his whole entire being. The pretty face and the soft colours of his clothes, the way he sits so elegantly and smiles with his eyes. He’s like looking into the goddamn sun. “You’re the most gorgeous person I’ve ever seen in my entire goddamn life.”
A pink blush blooms across Henry’s cheeks, climbing down his neck and across the expanse of his clavicles. Alex watches as it disappears beneath the neck of his white t-shirt, wishing more than anything that he could watch more of it’s path. The hornier part of him daydreams about hues of purple and red, and just how pretty Henry would look decorated in lovebites.
“I’m so fucking bisexual,” he mutters to himself.
Henry smiles down at his cup.
—
The first thing George notices as he slips into the apartment he shares with his twin is the denim jacket on his designated hook and the discarded joggers haphazardly lined up beside Henry’s shiny oxfords. Hm.
He shrugs his coat off and hangs it over Henry’s before stomping his feet down the hallway, moving slowly and making as much noise as he can in warning.
Either they’re too lost in one another or don’t care that he’s there because when he turns into the living room Henry and his date are laying on the couch kissing lazily, Henry’s legs thrown open for the other man to lay between. One of his date’s hands crawl up Henry’s t-shirt, settling on his waist while the other palms the back of Henry’s neck. Henry’s legs wrap around him then, both hands buried in his date’s curls and pulling him as close as possible.
George clears his throat loudly. “Hi Alex.”
Alex and Henry break apart, heads turning toward him but otherwise making no attempt to move apart. Their faces are both flushed and lips kiss-swollen, like they’ve been at it for hours. Alex looks like he can’t quite believe his luck.
“Hi George,” he says sheepishly. “Great seeing you again.”
George leans against the doorway, arms crossed and grinning smugly. “I take it the date went well?”
“Sod off, George,” Henry tells him, his eyes never leaving Alex’s face. Alex turns back at the sound of Henry’s voice and his expression immediately softens as their eyes lock. George watches as he leans down and kisses Henry gently, cradling his cheek in his hand.
Well then. George pushes off the doorway and beelines for the safety of his room. “You’re welcome, by the way,” he shouts over his shoulder as he goes.