Archive of Our Own

Driving up the road, Henry hummed to the song on the radio. Keeping his eyes on the road, he could see afar, the snow covered top of the mountains, under the light blue winter sky. Henry loved winter, mostly because he got to use the temperature outside as an excuse to stay in all day, snuggled with his dog, David, finding some inspiration for his book, or just watching Netflix. A good cup of tea, some home-made cookies, a blanket and his laptop, that were his essentials for the winter time. Henry loved writing, it was a way for him to escape reality, put into words what his mind came with all day long. He always knew that he wanted to be a writer, since the day he learned to write, he would make up every kind of story, from fantasy to romance. Romance is his favourite genre, to write and to read, his most successful novel, My Great Escape , is about two people finding comfort in each other, escaping from their rather difficult life. He didn’t really expect it to be a bestseller, he didn’t even expect it to sell given the millions of romance novels already existing. But it has motivated him to do better, to outdo himself. So, he is currently working on what he hopes will be his reference book, the book you cite when you talk about a certain author. For it to be his best work, he needed to put in the extra effort, that’s why he decided to rent a cabin in the mountains, far away from any distractions. At home, it was his safe place still, but it was too familiar. He needed a place that was new, that would bring up some new ideas, a new wave to his writing.

After driving for a little more than 2 hours, he had finally arrived at his final destination. It was a little charming village in the mountains, famous for its breathtaking view on a forest that seemed filled with white trees due to the amount of snow on the branches. He had heard about it through a post on social media, and decided it was the perfect place to rent a cabin at. Following the GPS instructions, he entered a little remote alley that led to a house. Upon arrival, he expected someone to greet him there and show him around, but he was surprised to only be greeted with a sign on the door that said : “ keys are on the inside, just make yourself at home. - Paul ”. He assumed Paul was the owner of the house, he didn’t really pay attention when he booked, he just really liked the pictures. Pushing the door, he got inside and immediately felt the warmth of the house, he quickly closed the door behind him. The snow was falling again, and he had heard on the radio that there was going to be a snow storm anytime soon. Henry took his coat and scarf off, neatly hanging them in the entry, he shivered from the snow, turned droplets that slid down his face when he removed the scarf. Walking to the bedroom, he noticed the Christmas decorations that were already set up around the house. He adjusted a little Christmas figurine that wasn’t in line with all the others. In the bedroom, the bed had a big red blanket at the end and two enormous pillows in red silk cases. It was so tempting to just plop on his stomach, right in the middle of the bed. But he had a book to write, so he cautiously put his bag next to the bed, and grabbed his laptop. He went to the kitchen, finding the kettle, to make himself a cup of tea. He peeked through the window, the sun had set and it was starting to get dark, he didn’t really see anything from this side of the house, it was just the alley and some trees. Henry plopped himself on the couch, cup of tea on the coffee table, some background jazz Christmas music playing and laptop on his knees. He opened his draft and sighed, time to get to work , he said to himself. He was already far in the story but kept coming back to previous chapters, he wanted the characters to feature some particular traits reflected in their thoughts or actions.
Henry was two hours in, his mind flooded with ideas and his fingers never stopped tapping on the keyboard, he was about to wrap the penultimate chapter. He drank a cup and got back to writing when he heard the front door opening. He heard loud noises and some muttering coming from the entry, then the door shutting, rather loudly.
“God, I know I like snow but it is freezing out there”, a deep voice complained. Then a loud bang, like something had just dropped on the floor.
Henry froze. Did someone just break into his house ? Was the owner back and didn’t warn him ? Was he about to get robbed ? or killed ? or kidnaped ? He slowly put his laptop to the side and put his slippers on, he grabbed the first thing he could find, a vase that he emptied from its contents. He clutched to it with both his hands next to his head, ready to throw it at whoever was breaking in. When he made it to the hallway, he was met face to face with a tall brunette, his nose was red, his coat, shoes, and even bags were covered in snow.

“What the hell are you doing here ?”, his voice was sharp and lace with panic. The brunette, who was trying to remove some snow off his coat, snapped his head up and looked at Henry, amused.

“Whoa ! Relax dude ! I’m not here to rob you or anything. Though if that vase is the best weapon you’ve got, I’d reconsider”, the man grinned. His grin lighted up his face, and the way it aligned perfectly with his facial symmetry made it annoying.

Henry furrowed his eyebrows, “This is my cabin, I rented it.”, his grip tightened on the vase and he glared at the brunette, who was now searching through his phone.

“Yeah, well, funny thing, I rented it too, see ?” He shoved his phone in Henry’s face, the confirmation email was right there.

Henry snatched the phone from the man’s hand and inspected the email, multiple times. “Impossible, Paul — or whoever he is — clearly made a mistake”, he was frantically scrolling through the email up and down, af all people on the earth, this had to be happening to him. “Well, this is absolutely unacceptable. You’ll just have to leave.”, Henry handed back the phone as he tried to ignore the fact that the brunette, Alex apparently was his name, was dripping snow onto the floor. 

“Right, cause driving back down the mountain in a snowstorm is totally an option”, Alex laughed sarcastically, brushing the rest of the snow off his coat, sending it everywhere. 

 “Would you stop that ! You’re getting snow all over the place !” Henry shrieked. He didn’t know  this man but he was already getting on his nerves. So much for getting away from the distractions. 

Alex smirked, “Relax it’s just snow dude, no need to get all moody !” Just the tone he was using was infuriating, but it seemed like the man was doing it on purpose, just to make it worse. 

“Does this seem funny to you ? I came here to find peace and quiet—“

“And I came here to escape the chaos of city life. Guess we both got a surprise, huh ?” Alex cut him, seemingly not as bothered as Henry by the situation. 

The two men stood awkwardly in the entry. 

“Well what do we do now ? Cause there is no way I am heading back out in this snowstorm. I’m too young and beautiful to die” Alex interjected, as he finally removed his coat, carelessly hanging it over Henry’s. Henry eyed his every move in utter disbelief, he sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose as he leaned against the wall.

“Look, I’m exhausted, and there’s clearly been some sort of mistake. We both can’t stay here.”

Alex crossed his arms, leaning casually against the doorframe. “Oh, I agree with you there. But I’m not leaving. I booked this cabin, I paid for it, and I’m staying.”

“And you think I didn’t pay?” Henry snapped, his voice rising. “I’ve got my own confirmation email. You’re not the only one who made arrangements.”

“Well, that’s unfortunate for you.” Alex smirked, far too relaxed for Henry’s liking. “But I’m not trudging back down that icy deathtrap of a mountain road because Paul can’t handle basic scheduling.”

Henry groaned, resisting the urge to throw the vase at the wall. Alex was infuriating, there was something about him and the way he talked that made Henry want to strangle that tone out of him. “Fine. Fine. We’ll share it for tonight—just for tonight,” he emphasized, pointing a finger at Alex. “Tomorrow, you’re leaving. I’ll call Paul first thing in the morning and sort this mess out.”

Alex chuckled, shaking his head. “No way. If anything, you’re leaving tomorrow.” He turned Henry’s pointing finger right back at him. 

Henry stared at him, incredulous. “Excuse me? Why would I leave? I got here first.”

“Yeah, and if I’d been five minutes earlier, I would’ve been the one cozying up with tea and jazz music,” Alex shot back. “You’re acting like that makes you lord of the cabin.”

“Well, first, I’ve been here for at least three hours and second, I planned this trip for weeks,” Henry countered, his voice tight. “This is supposed to be my sanctuary—peace, quiet, inspiration. You’re... you’re the exact opposite of what I need!”

“Well, you’re not exactly a delight yourself, you know,” Alex retorted. “I came here to escape the noise and chaos of the city, not to bicker with some uptight british blondie who’s apparently allergic to human interaction.”

“Uptight?” Henry sputtered. “I’m—” He stopped himself, realizing he was, in fact, clutching the vase again. He set it down with an exasperated huff. “You’re impossible.”

“And you’re dramatic,” Alex quipped, plopping himself onto the couch as if he owned the place.

Henry rubbed his temples, willing the headache to subside. “Look. How about this : we split the cabin? I take the bedroom; you can have the couch.”

Alex raised an eyebrow, his grin widening. “Oh, so now you’re dictating where I sleep?”

“It’s my cabin—” Henry began.

“It’s our cabin,” Alex interrupted, stressing the word with an annoying amount of cheer. “At least until we figure this out. I’m not sleeping on that lumpy thing.”

Henry threw up his hands in defeat. “Fine! Take the bedroom. Take the whole damn house, for all I care. I’ll sleep in the car.”

“Now you’re being ridiculous.” Alex laughed, standing. “Look, we’ll make it work. I’m not thrilled about sharing either, but a storm’s a storm. Unless you want to freeze to death, I’d suggest we both stop acting like children and deal with it.”

Henry glared at him, a sharp retort forming on his lips, but he swallowed it. He hated to admit it, but Alex was right. “Fine. We’ll share. But keep to yourself. And don’t touch my things.”

“Deal,” Alex said with a wink. “But don’t touch mine either, Hemingway.”

Henry opened his mouth, then shut it. This was going to be the longest week of his life.

Henry had moved to the kitchen– working in the bedroom was out of the question after the last time he tried that and spent weeks nursing a sore back. He sipped what must probably be his tenth cup of tea– he’d lost count after the first-– as he typed energetically, trying to finish the final chapter. The story was nearly complete but far from ready. Once the first draft was complete, he’d have to reread it from start to finish to ensure coherence, fix any errors, and, inevitably, rewrite half of it when better ideas struck. He had to send his manuscript to his agent by Christmas Eve, probably the worst deadline ever. Although she insisted that the Christmas deadline would guarantee more attention to his manuscript. Henry didn’t question it and resigned to spending the holidays buried in edits. He tried to concentrate on the closing scene of his book however he was constantly bothered by someone. Again.
Henry paused mid-sentence letting out a sigh. Home Alone. Of course Alex would be watching Home Alone. Alex let out a loud laugh as Kevin slipped on marbles. “Classic”, he muttered, sprawled across the couch like a king, sipping hot chocolate far too loudly for Henry’s liking. He glanced at Alex, oblivious, hoping lasers would come out of his eyes and disintegrate him right here, right now. He turned back to his laptop and tried to focus again, “If he laughs one more time I swear–”. A loud laugh interrupted him. He rubbed his temples, “Oh for Christ’s sake”, Henry was exasperated. Alex put the movie on pause as he glanced at Henry, a smirk in the corner of his mouth. 

“I’m sorry did I disturb your peace and quiet ?” Alex replied sarcastically. He knew exactly what he did, but he liked seeing Henry so worked up every time. 

Henry crossed his arms as he glared at the brunette. “I am trying to work here. Is it too difficult for you to try and respect that ? Maybe starting by cleaning up the mess you’ve left on the counter ?”

“Oh no, not the sacred counter ! I’ll send a formal apology to the King immediately”. The mocking tone Alex was using made Henry furious, again.

“Delightful. Another reason I regret not locking you outside in the storm”, he turned to his computer just staring at it. He hated the way Alex was getting on his nerves. 

“You’re really wound up, aren’t you ? Have you ever tried, I don’t know, relaxing ? Maybe watching a Christmas classic”, he pointed at the TV, “Instead of whatever ‘serious literary masterpiece’, you’re torturing yourself over?”

Was this man serious right now ? Did he just say that ? “Relaxing won’t finish my book, will it ? Unlike you, I came here to work. Not to rest.” Henry hovered his fingers on the keyboard as if he was going to write something, but nothing came to his mind. Of course, his idea flow has been cut by some rather infuriating curly tall brunette. 

“Ah, such a masterpiece in the making huh ? Let me guess – tragic romance ? Probably involving a brooding hero who drinks tea while glaring at the wold ?” Alex smirked again, a smirk that Henry has seen way too much for since he showed up at his doorstep. 

Henry shut his eyes and fists tightly, before opening them and glaring at Alex. “Actually, it’s about two boys with high-profile public lives that fall in love, in secret. But what would you know about being discreet?” 

Alex faked being hurt, “Wow, rude.” He gestured to the laptop, “Let me read it, I’ll give you some honest feedback”,

Henry grabbed his laptop away as he was protecting it from spilled coffee. “Absolutely not. Your idea of critique is probably asking why the characters are so uptight.” 

Alex chuckled, Henry was probably right, “Well, maybe, your book could use less uptight, you know spice things up a bit. I’ll definitely read that.” 

Putting his laptop back on the table as type in his password, Henry furrowed his eyebrow, shaking his head. “Why am I even having this conversation ?” He rolled his eyes, probably for the hundredth time today, when Alex sipped on his hot chocolate obnoxiously loudly, just to get a reaction. “You’re impossible.”

Alex grinned, “That's my second name, sweetheart.” He winked at Henry who looked at him, his mouth opened ready to retort back, but he didn’t.

Later that night, in the living room, Alex was asleep on the couch, snoring lightly. In the background, the TV was playing the ending credits of The Grinch . He probably fell asleep right in the middle of it. He loved Christmas marathons, he usually did them with his older sister, but since she got married and moved overseas, it was quite difficult to do them still. 

Henry yawned, never again would he agree on a Christmas deadline, this was the absolute worst. He was so pressured he couldn’t even enjoy writing anymore. He peaked at Alex, he didn’t notice that he fell asleep, he actually managed to get so quiet that he fell asleep. Henry decided to take a break for the night and closed his laptop. His stomach growled so loud that he remembered he hadn’t eaten a thing since 10 a.m. He quietly made his way to the bedroom, putting his laptop away in his bag and returned to the kitchen. He contemplated his –few– options for dinner and went with stir fry. While he waited for it to be cooked, he cleaned up the counter, laughing to himself when he remembered Alex’s reply about the King. Half an hour later he had cleaned the counter, rearranged the plates by size and redacted a shopping list. He served the stir fry in two plates, leaving one on the counter with plastic wrap. Maybe Alex would be hungry, the man infuriates him but he’s not a monster after all. Henry sat down at the table as he scrolled through his phone, a message from his agent from two hours ago got his attention.

Henry smiled at the message, this is exactly what he needed to hear. Despite having a constant distraction up his back, he was determined to get this manuscript ready by Christmas Eve.

Finishing up his dinner, he looked outside the window, some noise had caught up his ear. The snow storm was getting bad, the wind was whipping snow in every direction, the air was just a swirling chaos of white. He checked his phone, he didn’t really double-check on the weather when booking. The snowstorm was supposed to last at least a day or two. Great. The better part of it was probably the fact that the weather website warned anyone in the area that circulation might be disturbed due to the aggregation of snow everywhere. Double great. He would be stuck with an unfunny curly brunette for about two days at least. Way to get away from distraction. 

Henry went to do his dishes while the kettle was at work, he couldn’t go to sleep without a good cup of tea, what an insane thought. He tried to be as discreet as possible, he didn’t want Alex to get up and bother him again after this long silence. He poured himself a cup, glancing at Alex still laying there so calm and peaceful, just like Henry wanted him to be. Before tiptoeing to the bedroom, he covered Alex up with the blanket that was on the side of the couch. Again, disliking the man, didn’t mean he was cruel. 

Henry closed the door to the bedroom, he sat down in his bed, sipping his tea, checking his to-do list for the next few days, which just really consisted in “wrapping up manuscript”. That is what he came for here in the first place.
In the living room, Alex stirred up. He sat up rather confused, he doesn’t remember falling asleep that long ago, but what he is sure of is that he didn’t get the blanket on him. He got up, blanket on his shoulders and dragged his feet to the kitchen, he was hungry. On the way to the kitchen he got startled by a loud noise coming from outside, he ran to the window. “ A fucking tree just fell in the alley ? Are you kidding me ?”, he sighed. So much for escaping the chaos of the city. When he turned to the back of the kitchen, he was surprised to see a plate of stir fry, neatly wrapped, with a note : Maybe eating vegetables will get some annoyance out of you - Not so uptight british blondie. Alex laughed reading it, of course he still was bitter about the uptight comment. He unwrapped the plate and placed it in the microwave. He leaned against the counter, his mind kept drifting to the moment he dropped his bag and saw Henry there, vase in his hands ready to throw it in his face. Something about Henry had caught the attention– well except the fact he was literally ready to kill him – but something about him made it difficult for Alex to get him out of his head. He was startled by the bip of the microwave signaling his food was ready. When he finished, he washed his dishes and left them to dry there, next to Henry’s that were of course neatly placed. He realised it was almost 2:30, he pondered whether he should go to the bedroom or just sleep on the couch, which he stood against earlier. He decided against bothering an uptight british blondie at 2:30 am, after he certainly didn’t want to be thrown outside in this storm. 

The next morning, Henry woke up to a nice smell. He checked the time, 10:30, he had overslept his alarm. Not surprising given the fact he was exhausted by yesterday's events, but he needed to get back to work as soon as possible. He put on his robe and headed to the kitchen. He was met to a rather delicious sight, the breakfast, of course , being cooked by Alex in his pyjamas. His hair was messy and some locks stuck out at different parts of his head. Henry must admit that he was impressed that Alex could be so calm and concentrated. Seeing Alex there, sleeves rolled up, frying up the pancakes, did something to him, he doesn’t know what but it did. 

“Well, if you’re making breakfast every morning, I might let you stick around. Might. ” Henry jokes, making Alex startle as he snapped his head around. 

“Jeez, are you trying to give me a heart attack blondie ?” Alex faked hurt, a hand on his chest. Henry was reaching for plates on the shelf. “If you could wait until after the breakfast is made to die, that would be perfect”, he grinned at the other boy. 

“Really funny, I thought I was the one making jokes around here.” Alex smirked. 

“Oh but I was not joking”, Henry replied not looking at Alex as he set the table up, “In fact, I’d be satisfied to finally get the peace I deserve”. 

Alex grinned as he plated the last pancake, they looked straight out of a cooking ad. “You know, if you’re so desperate for peace, maybe I should take these with me and let you make your own breakfast alone.” 

Henry chuckled, grabbing the kettle to pour water. “Please, I survived you one entire evening, I’ll be fine. But I suppose I should be thanking you for attempting to cook without setting the cabin on fire.”

Alex smirked as he served Henry a pancake. “Well, if you’re going to insult me, at least take a bite first. I promise, these pancakes will change your life.” 

Henry took the fork and the knife, cutting a piece of pancake and popped it into his mouth, immediately pausing as the buttery sweetness hit his tongue, these were absolutely delicious. 

Alex was watching him intently, arms crossed. “So ?’

Henry swallowed, drawing an expression of indifference on his face,”Well, they’re…edible.” He tried to sound unimpressed. 

Alex laughed as he sat down in front of him. “Edible ? Coming from you, I’ll take that as a high praise.”

Henry hid a small smile behind his mug. “Don’t let it go to your head.”

As they ate, Alex suddenly remembered that this breakfast was missing its cherry on top. He palmed the table, startling Henry. “Don’t you think these pancakes are missing a little something ?”, he grinned at Henry who looked clueless. 

“Hm… Comfortable silence ?” Henry sipped on his tea. 

Alex rolled his eyes, “No. Syrup ! What’s a perfect pancake breakfast without syrup, right ?”

Henry raised his eyebrows, his fork perched mid-air. “I’ve managed perfectly well without drowning my food in sugar, thank you.”

Ignoring him, Alex sprung up from his chair, put his cup down on the counter and started rummaging through the cabinets. “Paul’s gotta have some syrup hidden around here. Or honey, Or even–oh !” He held up a bottle triumphantly. “Maple syrup, the good stuff.”

Henry sighed, putting his fork down. “Careful. You look ready to–” 

But before he could finish, Alex grabbed the bottle in one hand and reached for his mug with the other. He misjudged the angle, bumping into the edge of the counter. 

The syrup bottle tupped, emptying its sticky content onto the floor in an amber puddle. To make matters worse, Alex’s mug dangled dangerously before spilling what was left of hot chocolate all over the counter. 

“Bloody hell !” Henry shot up from his seat, glaring at the chaos now spreading across the kitchen. 

Alex froze for a movement, embarrassed. “Okay, before you say anything, I just want to point out that technically, the syrup bottle had a bad center of gravity. That’s not on me.”

Henry pinched the bridge of his nose, muttering something unintelligible. He grabbed a dishcloth and moved toward the mess. “You’re like a tornado in human form. A very loud, very clumsy tornado.”

Alex crouched beside him, paper towels in hand. “Hey, in my defense, I was trying to make your boring silence British breakfast better.”

Henry glared at him as he cleaned up the sticky mess.”My breakfast was perfectly fine without this circus performance.”

As Alex wiped down the counter, a smear of syrup ended up on his cheek. He didn’t seem to notice, too focused on cleaning the counter, but Henry couldn’t help staring. 

“You’ve got something–” Henry gestured vaguely toward Alex’s face. 

The brunette wiped his hand over his mouth. “Here ?”

“No, your cheek.” 

Alex wiped again but completely missed the spot. 

“For God’s sake, just–” Henry sighed, getting up and grabbing a clean cloth, leaning forward to smudge the syrup.Their faces were suddenly inches apart, Alex’s eyes meeting Henry’s with an amused sparkle. 

“See ? Told you I’d make breakfast more exciting,” Alex said softly, grinning. 

Henry froze at the realisation of their sudden closeness, he pulled back abruptly to put the clothes away. “Yes, well, excitement isn’t exactly what I came here for.”

Alex straightened, still grinning. “Well, lucky for you, I am here to make sure you don’t get too bored.”

Henry turned away, hiding his flushed face behind his teacup. “At this rate, I’ll probably be in an early grave before I finish my book.” 

Alex laughed as he grabbed another paper towel. “Come on, blondie. Let’s finish cleaning up before you write me into your novel as a villain.” 

“Bold of you to assume I didn’t already do it.” Henry looked at Alex in the eyes laughing, making the other boy laugh as well.

It was around 4 pm, Henry was deep into his rereading when his phone vibrated, his agent was calling him. He took the call walking to the bedroom, to get some privacy. He left his laptop on the kitchen table. 

Alex was still finishing his Christmas Marathon, this time he tried to be less loud. His stomach growled, signaling snack time. He paused the movie and went to the kitchen to grab some pancakes that were left from breakfast. Unfortunately, he couldn’t pour syrup on top of them. He heated up some hot chocolate and as he leaned his back to the counter, he noticed Henry’s laptop opened, right there. He tried to pretend to not care, but he couldn’t resist the urge to sit there and read what was on the screen, what came out of Hemingway’s little blonde head. He peeked at the bedroom door, and only heard faint voices meaning Henry was still on a call. Alex sat down and read. 

“I want you–”

“Then fucking have me.”

“ –but I don’t want this.”

Edward wants to grab William and shake him, wants to scream in his face, wants to smash every priceless antique in the room. “What does that even mean?”

“ I don’t want it !” William practically shouts.
His eyes are flashing, wet and angry and afraid. “Don’t you bloody see? I’m not like you. I can’t afford to be reckless. I don’t have a family who will support me. My life is the crown, yours is politics and I will not trade one prison for another. I can love you and want you and still not want that life? I’m allowed, all right, and it doesn’t make me a liar; it makes me a man with some infinitesimal shred of self-preservation, and you don’t get to come here and call me a coward for it.” 

Edward takes a breath. “I never said you were a cow-”

“What the hell ?” The computer was shut down and Alex was met with a pretty infuriated Henry glaring down at him. 

Alex stood frozen, caught in the act. “Uh–hey. Look, I know I shouldn’t have read it, but it was just… right there.” He gestured awkwardly toward the laptop. “And come on, how was I supposed to resist ? you’re writing dialogue like that and expecting me not to peek ?”

Henry’s expression’s hardened, his voice like ice. “What you were supposed to do, Tornado, was mind your own bloody business.” He grabbed his laptop, clutching it to his chest as if Alex had physically invaded his personal space. “It’s called having boundaries. You should try it sometime.”

How dare he. Henry’s mind raced, a swirl of indignation and panic. That scene was raw, unfinished–he hadn’t even decided if it belonged in the final draft. And now this overgrown child, this stranger, had seen it. Judged it. He swallowed har, pushing down the tight knot of vulnerability rising in his chest.

Alex raised his hands, palms out. “Okay, I get it. You’re mad. Totally fair. But–”

“But nothing !’ Henry snapped, his voice rising, startling Alex. He turned on his heel, stalking toward the living room. “Being a walking disaster wasn’t bad enough; you just had to add ‘noisy’ to your repertoire ?”

Alex followed him, stopping short of the couch where Henry had thrown himself, the laptop still clutched protectively. “Hey, I didn’t mean to upset you. I mean, sure, it was invasive, but–”

Henry let out a sharp, bitter laugh. “But what ? You’re going to say it was ‘worth it’ because you got a sneak preview ?”

Alex hesitated, scratching the back of his head. ‘Well… Yeak. Kind of.”

Henry stared at him, his mouth opening and closing uselessly. Of course he’d say that. His heart pounded as every worst-case scenario unfolded in his mind : Alex tearing the scene apart, mocking its emotional weight–or worse, dismissing it entirely. 

"You can’t be serious,” he finally muttered, his voice quieter now, more strained. 

Alex shrugged, his tone softening. “Look, I wasn’t trying to be a jerk. Honestly. But what I read–it was good, Henry. Really good.”

Henry blinked, caught off guard. “You can’t possibly know that from a few lines.”

Alex cautiously took a place at Henry’s side on the couch. “I’m serious,” his voice lowering. “The tension, the emotions– it’s all there. And that bit about trading one prison for another ? Damn blondie. That hit.” He smiled awkwardly. “I don’t even like reading, and you had me hooked.”

Henry’s grip on the laptop loosened slightly. He wanted to scoff, brush Alex off, but his words brought Henry reassurance. He wasn’t used to praise –especially not from someone like Alex.

“You.. liked it ?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper. 

Alex smirked, “I mean I could’ve done without the fancy Edward-and-William names. But yeah. It’s pretty impressive.” 

Henry frowned, his face warm. “It’s a rough draft. Not even close to done.”

“Doesn’t matter,” Alex said. “You’ve got something. And I get why you’re mad, it’s like your baby or whatever but maybe… don’t be so hard on yourself. It’s better than you think.”

Henry stared at him, searching for any sign of sarcasm or mockery, but Alex’s gaze was steady, sincere. His chest tightened. He hated how much he wanted to believe Alex, how much he craved validation for something he’d poured so much of his time and life into. 

“You’re impossible, you know that ?” he finally said, leaning back against the couch. 

Alex smirked, sitting on the armrest. “It’s my second name, blondie, told you.” He winked, and it did something to Henry who tried not to blush hard. Instead he rolled his eyes. 

“If you touch my laptop again, I’ll bury you in the snow.”

Alex laughed, holding up his hands. “Noted. But for the record, it’s a good burial-worthy laptop.”

Over dinner, Henry was half-plunged into his laptop typing with one hand while holding his fork with the other hand. Alex leaned back in his chair, absently chewing as he watched, or more like stared. The way Henry got lost in his work, completely absorbed and oblivious, was… fascinating. There was something about his little bubble of focus, something that made Alex curious about what was going on in his head. 

“Take a picture, it’ll last longer, Tornado.” Henry said suddenly, not even looking up from his screen. 

Alex startled, looked away. “Oh, get over yourself blondie. I was not staring. Not even looking your way.” He lied, a smirk on his face. 

Henry raises an eyebrow but doesn't bother glancing at Alex. “Sure.” 

He put his fork down, he slid his plate to the side, making room for his laptop. He didn’t need to look up to know that Alex was smirking—he could hear it in his voice. Instead, Henry focused on the words on his screen, satisfied with his progress. The 12th chapter was almost done. At this rate, he’d meet his Christmas deadline. 

“Want me to take these for you blondie ?” Alex's voice broke through his thoughts. He gestured at Henry’s empty plate and cup, “I’m doing my dishes so might as well do yours.” 

Henry looked up, surprised, “Thanks.” He added with a sly smile, “I know this might sound difficult for you, but try to not make a mess.”

Alex snorted, “Can’t promise anything.” He grabbed the dishes and headed for the sink. 

From the corner of his eye, he saw Henry flash a brief smile—quick and maybe unintentional but enough to throw Alex off. As he turned to the sink, he found himself scrubbing the plates harder than necessary. What was that about ? It’s just a smile. People smile all the time. It doesn’t mean anything. 

But no matter how hard he tried, his mind kept replaying the blonde boy smiling at him.

Later that night, Henry was sitting in the bed, laptop perched on Paul’s little clever table. He knew he’d promised never to work from his bed ever again—his back had yet to forgive him for the last time—but the warmth of the bedroom was impossible to resist compared to the crafty kitchen. There was just the soft hum of the heater filling the air. 

Henry typed, pausing occasionally to sip his tea. From the bathroom, the faint sound of running water and Alex’s low humming melted in some way with the silence. The door was slightly ajar, and Henry’s eyes flickered toward it, just for a second, just a harmless glance. 

What he saw made his fingers still over the keyboard. 

Alex was perched on the sink, shirtless, inspecting his face in the mirror. A towel hung loosely around his waist, dangerously low, revealing toned hips and abs. Henry swallowed hard, his throat suddenly dry. He knew he should look away, knew that whatever was happening here—this sudden hyper-awareness of Alex—was ridiculous. And yet. 

His eyes lingered in the way Alex’s arms flexed as he adjusted his position, the way drops of water clung to his curls, dripping onto his forehead. There was something about him, something… Henry clenched his jaw and forced his gaze to the screen, his heart thudding like he’d been caught doing something improper. 

The door cracked open. Henry ducked his head, pretending to be deeply engrossed in his work. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Alex rummaging through his bag, pulling a bottle of deodorant. When Alex sprayed it on, his muscles contracted sighted, and Henry’s eyes darted back to his screen, determined not to look again.  

Alex disappeared in the bathroom again, and Henry let out a long, shaky breath. His cheeks burned as he realised he’d been holding it. He threw the blanket off his shoulders, the heat suddenly unbearable. The heater must be set too high , he thought, although deep down, he knew better. He tried to focus on the document in front of him, but the words blurred as Alex’s silhouette lingered in his mind. 

When Alex reappeared in his pyjamas, Henry caught himself thinking, Too bad I liked the other sight better . His face went crimson. What ? No ! Absolutely not ! He mentally, staring harder at the screen. Get a grip, Henry.  

Alex noticed Henry’s typing was more intense than usual. He sat opposite of Henry, leaning his arms. He smirked, “You look tense, blondie. What’s got you all wound up ? Is it the deadline or… something else crossing your minds ?”

Henry stiffened, not daring to look up from his screen fearing his blush will give him away. “Nothing’s got me ‘wound up’, least of all you. Go entertain yourself somewhere else.” His voice was sharper than intended, and yet Alex’s grin somehow grew wider. 

“Nobody mentioned me getting you wound up but whatever you say blondie”, he smirked as he scooted closer. “But tell me why you were typing like your life depended on it a minute ago, and now you’re blushing—and hiding it really badly by the way—. I didn’t know writing romance could get you so flustered.” 

He turned around and layed down, leaning his right elbow, facing Henry. Not so close to him, yet close enough to make him squirm in his spot. 

Henry built up a flat expression, “Unlike some people, I don’t blush over cheap rom-coms and shirtless antics.” He tried to keep his voice steady. 

“Oh, so you were paying attention,” Alex retorted in a mocking tone. “And here I thought you were too busy writing the next great literary masterpiece.” He straightened up, mirroring Henry’s position on the bed, still smirking, of course. 

Henry huffed, shutting his laptop a little too intensely. “I’m trying to work, Tornado. Some of us have actual responsibilities that don’t include annoying other people out.” 

Henry stands, looking for his work bag. His cheeks lingered a subtle pink that Alex doesn’t miss. 

“You know, for someone who claims to hate distractions, you’re pretty distracted right now.” He followed, chuckling, Henry’s moves as he slid his laptop in the bag and placed it neatly where it was. “Admit it, blondie. I got under your skin.”

“You’re insufferable,” Henry mutters, leaning down to reach in his bag, just to avoid further conversation, his face hidden from Alex’s sight by the bed, as he tries to collect himself. 

Alex moves to the other side of the bed, right on top of where Henry was squatting down. His grin was now replaced by amusement. 

“Relax, blondie. I’m just messing with you.” You’re easy to tease, that’s all.”

Henry rolls his eyes as he stands up, walking toward the bathroom. “Well, find a new hobby.”

Alex chuckles, moving back to his side. “I don’t think so. This one might be my favourite one.”

Locking himself in the bathroom, Henry leaned over the sink, hands pressed on the cool porcelaine. His reflection was staring back at him, all flushed and confused. He let out a long sigh, tilting his head as his thoughts drifted to Alex. He chuckled softly, shaking his head. Maybe– just maybe– Alex wasn’t that infuriating after all. 

When Henry returned in the bedroom, Alex was already fast asleep.His expression was so peaceful, his features softened in a way that made him look… calm. And yet, he was Tornado. Henry stood there for a moment, watching. He shook his head, forcing himself to lie down and  turn off  the light. Facing away from Alex, he pulled the blanket over his shoulders. Focus, Henry. Sleep. Not distractions.

The next morning, Henry woke to the sound of his alarm. He stirred in his bed, stretching, his hand brushing against the other side of the bed. The warmth there was fading, Alex had been up for a while. Yawning, Henry opened his eyes and got up, heading for the bathroom. Halfway there, he stumbled. Looking down, he saw Alex’s slippers abandoned there. “Of course”, he muttered, chuckling. His amusement faded away when he noticed Alex’s belongings scattered across the room– pyjamas’ top over the chair, pants hanging at the end of the bed, duffel bag half-zipped with socks spilling out. 

In the bathroom, the chaos continued : a toothpaste tube uncapped, toiletries scattered across the sink. Henry sighed, spending a few minutes organising the counter before splashing his face with some cold water. “Cleaning up after a literal tornado. Wonderful.”

As Henry entered the kitchen, the delicious smell of breakfast hit him. Alex stood at the stove, dressed in his gym clothes on, his tight shirt perfectly embracing his muscles. Henry's eyes lingered on the way Alex moved, confident, focused, pouring a strange intensity and passion into cooking. 

Hereached for plates but paused when he noticed the table was already set with half-full plates.  

“I thought maybe if I made you feel at home, you’d have another reason not to bury me in the snow.” Alex said, his voice light. 

Henry’s heart gave an unexpected thud. Alex was being… sweet ? “Well, I’d rather say that you’re making up for the tornado that hit the room,” he replied, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. 

“Oh, yeah. Tornado. Totally. That’s… exactly what I meant.” Alex stumbled on his words. “Aaaand, the final touch, baked beans !” Alex grinned as he poured some beans in the two plates giving an exaggerated bow. It made Henry smile, a smile that gave Alex butterflies.

“It looks better than I expected,” Henry said, sitting at the table with the kettle in hand. “Now does it taste better than my mum’s ? Doubtful.”

Alex smirked as he sat down. “Well, I’m no mum of yours, but I do know cooking is my job. So I sure hope it tastes well.” 

Henry raised an eyebrow, “There is no way Tornado is a chef. I pity your co-workers, God give them strength to deal with someone that clumsy and annoying.” 

Alex gasped, mock-offended. “First of all ouch. Second, I am a sous-chef, and it turns out I’m everyone’s favourite.” He stuck out his tongue at Henry, making him laugh.
“Well,” Henry said after his first bite, trying not to look impressed. “It’s… alright, I guess.”

“Well ?” Alex smirked, arms crossed as he waited for feedback. 

“It’s alright I guess.” Henry said indifferently. 

Alex shook his head laughing, “Lying is bad, blondie. But hey, I’ll take better than edible.”

After breakfast, Henry retreated to his laptop, settling on the couch, determined to make progress in his manuscript. Beside him, Alex lounged on the couch next to him, scrolling through cooking videos. The silence falling over them was comfortable, the crackle of the fireplace filled the air.

“Hey,” Alex said after a while, bored out of his mind. “You've been staring at that screen for hours. Doesn’t it ever get… exhausting ?” 

Henry barely glanced up, fingers still typing the keys. “It’s called discipline, Tornado. You should try it sometime.”

Alex huffed, setting his phone down. “I do try. And I succeed, mind you.” 

Henry raised an eyebrow, finally looking at him. “Hardly believable.” A sly smile at the corner of his mouth, as he turned back to his screen.

Alex leaned back, his gaze drifting toward the ceiling. “When I cook, I could stay there for hours. Just me and the ingredients. I get lost in it.” His voice softened, and a faint smile touched his lips. 

Henry’s fingers paused over the keyboard. He turned, his interest piqued. “Why did you choose cooking ?”

Alex straightened, his expression turning to something more thoughtful. “When I was a kid, my mom’s job had us moving constantly. I probably grew up in 7 different states and 21 cities.” He chuckled, shaking his head at the memory. 

Henry’s eyes widened. “That’s… an awful lot of moving.” 

“Yeah,” Alex said, his voice quieter now, “I spent more time in the car than in my room. It was always running around, always chaos. My mom's missions didn’t leave much room for stability.”

Henry chuckled lightly. “Hence the infamous Tornado.” 

Alex grinned at that. “Fair enough. But cooking was always my escape. No matter where we were, my dad and I would cook together. It gave me this sense of control, of… consistency. Like, no matter how much everything else changed, I could count on that.” He glanced down, his voice tinged with emotion. “It made everything feel a little less overwhelming.”

Henry observed Alex’s features for a moment. There was a vulnerability in Alex’s expression that he didn’t see before, and it made him feel something unfamiliar in his chest. 

“That’s… nice,” Henry said softly, almost awkwardly. “It’s rare, I think, to have something that grounding.”

Alex smiled faintly, leaning forward. “What about you ? I assume your escape is writing ?” 

Henry hesitated, his gaze dropping to his laptop. He scratched the side of his head, he never really thought about it this way. “I supposed you could say that. It’s where I can let things out without judgement. It’s freeing in a way.”

Alex tilted his head curiously, “And what are you trying to escape from, blondie ?”

The question hit Henry heavier than expected. He looked away, “I think… I’m always afraid of failing. Of worthy being called an author. That my first success was just… luck.”

Alex frowned slightly. “Hey,” he said, his tone more serious. “You’re talented, your work is a lot of things but not  just a lucky break. hell, I could tell just from reading a few lines of your book.”

Henry’s head snapped up, his mouth opening in protest.

“Relax,” Alex said with a grin, holding his hands up.”I’m not about to critique your genius. I’m just saying… It's good. You’re good.”

Henry’s heart pounded at the sincerity. He looked away, his face flushing by the heat of the moment. 

It was silent, but not uncomfortable. Alex shifted closer, their knees almost brushing. 

“You know,’ Alex said, his voice softer now, you don’t always have to carry everything on your own.” 

Henry looked at him, his throat tightening. He wanted to say something–anything–but the words caught in his throat. 

Their eyes met, the air between them suddenly charged. Alex’s gaze dropped, lingering on Henry’s lips for the briefest moment before flicking back up. Henry’s chest felt tight, his pulse racing. The space between them felt so small, the tension was building up until–

Alex cleared his throat, getting up abruptly. “Anyway,” he said, his signature smirk returning, although it was more faint than other times. “You should probably get back to your masterpiece,” he gestured vaguely to the laptop.”I’m going to make myself some hot chocolate.” He awkwardly turned around, his hands gesturing randomly. “Huh, would you… like something ? A cup of tea I guess?” Alex scratched the back of his head. 

Henry, whose heart was still pounding, barely looked at Alex in the eyes, “Huh, yeah. That’d be great.” his voice was barely above a whisper. 

When Alex retreated toward the kitchen, Henry let out a shaky breath, his fingers hovering over his laptop. 

Whatever had just happened, he wasn’t sure he could ignore it anymore.

The evening passed in silence. Both of them were perfectly aware of the tension hanging  in the air but neither chose to address it. Henry forced himself to focus on his manuscript, while Alex found himself busying himself with anything that kept him away from interacting.

Henry had trouble falling asleep, wandering back to the moment on the couch earlier. The way Alex’s gaze had lingered on his lips, their sudden closeness… His heart pounded just at the thought. But Henry was scared. What if it was all in his head ? What if Alex didn’t feel the same,  and he was just playing around ? His thoughts spiraled until he drifted off to sleep. 

The alarm went off, and Henry instinctively reached for the empty space beside him. He heard some ruffling in the bathroom, Alex was already up. The door creaked open, and there he was again, shirtless and fresh from the shower, but this time wearing pants instead of a loosely hanging towel. Henry tried to look away, but the sight of Alex, glistening from the shower and looking effortlessly good, made it very hard to look away. 

“Take a picture, it’ll last longer, blondie.” Alex’s voice broke Henry’s daydream, startling him.. 

Surprisingly he didn’t look away. “I might as well, to remember you by when I finally bury you in the snow” he teased lightly, tryon to deflect the heat rising in his chest. 

“Well, if you do that you will miss out on the plenty of recipes I have got for you.” Alex winked as he dressed. 

Henry’s heart fluttered unexpectedly. “You’ve got recipes for me ?” hHe asked, genuine curiosity replacing the teasing tone. 

Alex’s face lit up with enthusiasm as he plopped next to Henry in the bed. “So many. Depends on what you like. But with me, I’ll make sure you love every ingredient.” His excitement was infectious, and Henry couldn’t help but smile. “I was thinking, with the snow being cleared today we could go out for some supplies. you can help me work my magic.” 

Henry laughed, enjoying Alex’s excitement. “Well, I’ll go with you on one condition.” 

Alex smirked. “Anything for you, blondie.” 

Henry blushed but held his ground. “I am the one holding the shopping cart. We don’t need a Tornado disaster after the storm just passed.”

Alex saluted dramatically, a mischievous grin spreading across his face. “Yes, sir.”

Henry  shoved him playfully before standing. “Let me just take a shower, and then we’ll head out, alright ?”

Alex nodded, folding his pyjamas with exaggerated care. Henry smiled. 

As soon as Henry locked the bathroom door, Alex turned to the mirror behind it. He hesitated, glancing at his reflection, frowning slightly as he examined his clothes. He rifled through his bag,  pulling out three different turtlenecks. “It has to be this one… No, too light. I look like a ghost in white. Dark green maybe ?” He muttered to himself, finally settling on a grey turtleneck that matched his pants perfectly. He put on a knit sweater and his trusty black boots, giving himself a final look in the mirror. You look fine, Alex. Come on. The voice of insecurity echoed in his head but he shook it off. Why was he worrying so much about how good he looked ?

Just as he was about to head to the kitchen, Henry opened the bathroom door, his hair still damp ruffling it with a towel, his bare chest a distraction that made Alex freeze. 

Right, this, was why he was worrying. So far, Alew had always seen him as this ‘little Hemingway,’ always dipped into his laptop trying to produce the best masterpiece to ever exist. But now, standing there, shirtless and somehow… attractive, Alex couldn’t deny how much he noticed Henry now.

The tension was palpable. Alex’s heart skipped a beat. Was this just physical attraction… or was there something more to it ? 

“Ready to go ?” Henry’s voice snapped Alex out of his thoughts. 

Alex blinked, his gaze lingering on Henry for a moment. “Yeah, let’s go.”

They made their way to the front door, putting their coats on. Henry wrapped his scarf tightly around his neck, making sure no skin was exposed to the cold. 

Alex opened the door, and a sharp gust of icy wind hit them both like a wall. “Okay, I didn’t know it could be this cold," he said, his teeth chattering. “Let’s get inside the car before we actually die of hypothermia.” 

He rushed to the driver’s seat fumbling to start the engine, while Henry settled in the passenger seat, adjusting his scarf.

“Are you sure you’re actually allowed to drive ?” Henry asked, his tone playful. 

Alex rolled his eyes, as the heater started with a groan. “Maybe I’m not the one who’s gonna end up buried in the snow.”

Henry raised an eyebrow, a small smile forming. “That, we will see. So where are we going, Tornado ?” 

Alex held up his phone, glancing at the GPS. “There’s a supermarket about 10 minutes away. Well grab everything we need.” 

The temperature in the car was slowly warmed as Alex turned up the volume to his playlist. His fingers tapped against the steering wheel at the beat of the music. 

Henry stared out the window, his breath fogging up the glass. His thoughts drifted to the manuscript, waiting for him back at the cabin. He was so close to finishing, yet his mind kept wandering to Alex. There was something there—something he couldn’t quite put into words yet—but it gnawed at him. He wanted to know Alex better, to uncover all the quirks and secrets hidden behind that smirk. But the timing… the timing almost made it impossible. 

“What’s going on in that genius mind of yours blondie?” Alex’s voice broke through Henry’s reverie. 

Henry blinked, startled. “Mmh ?”

Alex chuckled, his grin lighting up his face. “I know I leave quite an impression, but I didn’t think it could last this long.” 

Henry rolled his eyes, shoving Alex’s arm lightly. “Get over yourself, you’re not that impressive.”

Alex laughed, a warm, low sound that filled the car. “And yet,” he said as he pulled into the surpermarket parking lot, “here you are, lost in thought. Wonder what that’s about.”                            

Henry sighed as he opened the door. “Definitely not you.” He lied. 

When they hit the supermarket doors, Alex pulled his phone out, grinning. “This is gonna be so fun !”

Henry chuckled, seeing Alex so happy made his heart want to burst out of his chest. “Careful, Tornado.”

He followed Alex as they started to walk around the different aisles. “Do you like mushrooms ? And tomatoes ? Oh, celery ? Pumpkin ? ” 

Henry nodded at every ingredient Alex listed, as he watched him fondly doing a dance of happiness around the cart. 

In the dairy aisle, Alxe stopped abruptly, causing Henry to nearly crash into him with the cart. 

“Right,” Alex said, checking his shopping list. “We need cheese. But what kind.” He said it like it was a life-changing decision. 

“Cheddar,” Henry suggested.

Alex gasped as if Henry had insulted him.”Cheddar ? For a pasta bake ? Are you insane ?”

Henry shrugged. “Cheddar’s fine. It’s cheese and it melts.”

“Blondie, you’re killing me,” Alex said, clutching his chest as if he was having a heart attack. “We need something with character.”

“You maybe ?” Henry joked. 

Alex side-eyed him, “Very funny. Like mozzarella, for the goey side, or parmesan for the sharpness. Maybe some Gruyère if we’re feeling fancy.”

“We’re in a small-town supermarket, Tornado,” Henry pointed out. “The fanciest you’re gonna get is probably those American cheese slices.”

Alex groaned dramatically. “Do not say that word in my presence.”

A smile formed in the corner of Henry’s mouth, he picked up a block of cheddar and tossed it into the cart. “Cheddar it is, then.”

Alex sighed as he rolled his eyes, he added a ball of mozzarella. 

“Fine.”

As they passed the baking aisle, Henry slowed down, his eyes catching on a row of chocolate chips. He hesitated, then picked up a bag, turning it over in his hands. 

Alex noticed and nudged him lightly with his shoulder. “What’s that look for ? You’re not seriously thinking of serving chocolate chips for dinner, are you ?”

Henry chuckled softly, shaking his head. “No, it’s just… these remind me of my dad. We used to bake cookies every Christmas. I’d sneak half the dough before it even made it to the oven.” He smiled slightly at the memory. “Mom pretended not to notice.”

Alex leaned on the cart, watching him. “Sounds like a nice tradition.”

“It was,” Henry said, his voice quieter now. “After he passed, I kind of… stopped for a while. Didn’t feel the same.”

Alex didn’t know what to say at first. He could see the emotions flickering across Henry’s face–the grief, the warmth of a memory. “I’m sorry Henry.” He  stroked Henry’s arm. 

Henry set the bag back on the shelf, his hand lingering for a moment. “Sometimes, I don’t know, I think about those afternoons in the kitchen, and it’s like he’s still here, in a way. It’s stupid, isn’t it ?”

Alex shook his head. “No, it’s not. Food has a way of doing that–bringing people back, or making them feel like they’re not miles away, even if it’s just for a little while.”

Henry glanced at Alex, surprised by the understanding in his tone. “Do you… feel that way when you cook ?”

Alex smiled faintly. “Every day. It’s like my dad’s standing right there, telling me not to burn the sauce. Well sometimes he’s literally on the phone doing it but…”

Henry chuckled softly, and for a moment, the tension in the air shifted into something warmer. 

Alex reached for a bag of chocolate chips and tossed it into the car. “So, we're making cookies tonight. Non-negotiable.”

Henry arched an eyebrow. “Are we ? Do you know how to bake cookies ?”

Alex smirked. “Do I know how to bake cookies ?” He scoffed, crossing his arms. “Blondie, I’m a sous-chef, it’s like asking a professional boxer if he can fight.”

Henry rolled his eyes, but a faint smile tugged at his lips. “Alright. But if they’re awful, I’m blaming you.”

“They won’t be,” Alex said, his tone suddenly softer. “I’ll make sure they’re good enough to remind you of a real thing.”

Henry froze for a moment, caught off guard by Alex’s sincerity. He swallowed, looking away as heat rose to his cheeks. “Thanks,” he said quietly, his voice barely above a whisper. 

Alex nudged him lightly with his elbow. “Anytime.”

Back at the cabin, Henry was installed at the kitchen table, eyes glued to his screen, fingers moving rapidly over the keyboard. He wanted to get this manuscript done as soon as possible. His new self-given deadline was in two days. It would be enough time to wrap up the remaining chapter and a half. After that, he could focus on something far more intriguing : getting to know Alex in the one week they still had left. 

Across the kitchen, Alex was busy preparing dinner. The rhythm of his movement– chopping, stirring–blended with the faint Christmas music playing from the TV.
a comfortable silence wrapped around them, broken only by these quiet sounds. 

Henry exhaled, pausing for a moment to stretch his neck. The warm scent of dinner filled the air, and he found himself comforted by it. Working in solitude was what he was used to, but having Alex rustling in the background made it… different. Easier, somehow. 

Alex, leaning on the counter as the timer ticked down, glanced over at Henry. A small smile tugged at his lips. He liked this, Henry sitting there, focused and determined, a faint furrow in his brow as he worked. It felt good, having someone to share his space with, even in silence.

He turned his gaze back to the stove, his fingers brushing the handle of the pan. He’d never been one to think about settling down, his life had always been about moving, chasing, surviving. But now, standing here, all he could think about was how right this felt. The soft ding  of the timer snapped him out of his thoughts. Alex pushed away from the counter and returned to the stove, lowering the heat. As he stirred, he hummed quietly along the Christmas song, playing in the background, his smile lingering. 

Henry glanced up briefly, watching Alex move around the kitchen. The sight made his chest tighten in a way he couldn’t explain. He looked back at his screen, forcing himself to focus, but the warmth that spread through him didn’t fade. 

After dinner, Henry put down the cloth he used to clean the table and turned to leave for the living room but Alex’s voice stopped him in his tracks. 

“Where do you think you’re going blondie ?” Alex raised an eyebrow, pausing mid-dish.

Henry frowned, confused. “To… enjoy my tea on the couch ? Is that not allowed ?”

Alex smirked, setting the plate down. “Aren’t you forgetting about our baking session ?” 

“Oh… right !” Henry sighed but couldn’t hide the small smile tugging at his lips. He returned to the kitchen, leaning on the counter. 

Alex finished drying his hands, his grin widening.

“Good, let’s make some magic.” He eagerly pulled out the ingredients he’d stored earlier.

Henry, arms crossed, watched him. “This isn’t MasterChef , Tornado. Let’s try not to burn the cabin down.” 

Alex rolled his eyes. “Relax, Blondie. Baking is just cooking but with more rules. And I’m a chef, remember ?”

Henry sighed dramatically, stepping forward to arrange the ingredients neatly. “It’s about precision. Measurement. Discipline. ”

Alex laughed, scooping a handful of flour and tossing it lightly at Henry. “You mean, where’s the fun in that ?” 

Henry glares but couldn’t hide his  faint smile. “If this cabin catches fire, I’m blaming you.”

As they started mixing the dough, chaos ensued. 

Alex spilled sugar across the counter while trying to pour it into the mixing bowl. Henry sighs and grabs a cloth to clean it. “Do you ever not make a mess ?”

“Mess is part of the process !” Alex said brightly, whisking eggs too enthusiastically and nearly splashing Henry. 

Henry grabbed his phone pretending to scroll. “Breaking news : tornado warning in the kitchen. We’re officially on high alert.”

Alex laughed, leaning closer. “Admit it, Blondie. You’d miss my chaos if I wasn’t around.” 

Henry scoffed, rolling his eyes. “Oh, absolutely. What would I ever do without your flour-covered fingerprints everywhere ?”

“You’d get bored, that’s what.” Alex said, his voice dropping. 

Henry's breath hitched, but he quickly covered it with a pointed look. “Focus on the cookies, not your ego, Tornado.” 

While rolling the dough, Alex’s hand brushed Henry’s. Henry froze, his pulse quickening. 

Alex notices and smirks. “Careful, blondie. You’re blushing.” 

Henry’s cheeks reddened. “It’s the oven.” 

“Right.” Alex’s grin grew wider. 

Later, as Henry struggled with the cookie cutter, dough sticking to his fingers, Alex sighed, amused.  

“Here, let me show you.” Alex stepped behind Henry, his hands lightly covering Henry’s as he guided him through the motion. 

Henry stiffened at the contact, the warmth of Alex’s breath ghosting over his shoulder sending a shiver down his spine.

“See ?” Alex murmured, his voice soft. “ You’re not just all brains. You’ve got good hands too.”

Henry's cheeks burned, but he managed a reply, “Let’s hope they’re good enough to survive your chaos.”

As the cookies baked, Alex leaned against the counter, stealing glances at Henry as he tidies up the flour-covered space. Alex dipped his finger into the leftover dough and licked it off lazily, his gaze fixed on Henry.  

“You know,” Alex said, his voice low, “this tastes pretty good, don’t you think ?” He held his finger out teasingly toward Henry. 

Henry raises an eyebrow but doesn’t look away. “That’s… unsanitary.” 

“Oh, come on,” Alex teased, stepping closer. “You might like it.” He moved his finger.

Henry’s heart pounded as Alex moved his hands closer, his playful smirk softening into something more daring.

“You’re impossible,” Henry murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. 

Alex chuckled, his tone gentler now. “And yet, here you are.”

The space between them disappeared as Alex lowered his hand. Their eyes locked and for a moment, the world outside the kitchen ceased to exist. Alex tilted his head slightly, his lips parting, and Henry felt himself leaning in, drawn by something he couldn’t quite name but he didn’t want to resist. 

His heart pounded, as his gaze flicked to Alex’s mouth, their breaths was the only sound over the soft hum of the oven. Henry’s hands twitch at his side, wanting to reach out, to close the last inch of space between them.
Just as their noses brushed, the sharp ding of the timer shattered the moment. 

Both of them jumped, stepping back abruptly. The warmth between them lingered in the air, unspoken but undeniable.

Alex was the first to recover, laughing nervously as he turned toward the oven. “Guess that’s our cue.”

Henry swallowed, his pulse still racing as he reached for the oven mitts. “Right. The cookies.” He busied himself with the oven, his face flushed and heart racing. Alex started gathering plates, trying to focus on anything but Henry. He breaks the silence first. 

“Well, they look good at least.”

Henry exhales a quiet laugh, still avoiding eye contact. “Let’s see if they’re edible before you declare victory.”

Their banter is light, but there’s an underlying tension. Both of them are hyper aware of the other’s movement, their earlier closeness lingering in the air. 

The cookies had cooled down by the time Alex held up one with a grin. “Would you like to do the honors ?” he asked, adopting an exaggerated posh accent.

Henry rolled his eyes but took the cookies, their fingers brushing briefly. The touch sent shivers through both of them, but neither commented. 

Henry took a bite, trying not to show how good it was. Instead, he frowns. 

“I can’t believe you’ve managed to ruin it.” He set the cookie down with a sigh. 

A flicker of worry crossed Alex’s face, but it vanished just as quickly. He leaned closer, narrowing his eyes. 

“Lies, Blondie. I see that look in your eyes. You’re impressed.”

A smile tugged at the corner of Henry’s mouth as he met Alex’s gaze. 

“You want praise for miserably following a recipe ?” 

Alex took a bite of his own cookie, holding the rest teasingly. 

“Fine. I’ll just enjoy them myself, then. Unless you’re willing to beg.”

Henry snatched the cookie from Alex’s hand, their fingers brushing again and this time, Alex doesn’t move back as quickly.

After a moment of silence, Alex leans back against the counter, his voice softer now. 

“You know… I don’t really do this kind of thing. Baking with someone. Spending time like this.”

Henry glances at him, intrigued. “Why not ?”

Alex shrugs, fidgeting with a piece of cookie. 

“I guess… I’m not used to sticking around long enough to let anyone in. With all the moving around, it was mostly my family and I doing these things.” He hesitated, then glanced back at Henry, his gaze lingering. “But this ? You being here ? Feels different.”

Henry hesitated, caught off guard by Alex’s honesty. He wanted to say something meaningful but struggled to find the right words.

“Well, I’d say you’re doing alright so far. You’ve only ruined half the kitchen.”

Alex laughs, but his eyes remain on Henry, his expression softening. 

“You’re the one cleaning it up, so I think we’re even.”

While a movie was running on the TV, Henry was back at work. Alex is quietly sitting beside him on the couch, the bowl of cookies between them. Henry’s fingers paused briefly over the keyboard as Alex reached, their hand brushing. This time, neither pulled away. The contact lingered, their eyes meeting, a soft smile playing on Alex’s lips. He tilted his head slightly, his voice dropping as he broke the silence. 

Alex breaks the silence, his voice dropping. 

“You know, for someone who doesn’t bake, you’re not so bad at this.”

Henry quirk an eyebrow, his lips curving into a small smile. 

“And for someone who doesn’t stick around, you’re surprisingly good company.” 

Their closeness felt magnetic now, and Alex tilted his head slightly, his gaze flicking to Henry's lips. Henry doesn’t pull away, his breath catching as Alex leans in, closer and closer, until the bowl dropping to the floor broke the spell. 

Alex chuckled nervously, quickly bending down to collect the cookies. “Guess that’s karma for almost making a move, huh ?”
Henry snorted, his face flushed. 

“Or maybe it’s the universe telling you to stop being so clumsy.”

Alex placed the bowl on the coffee table, turning to Henry with a grin. “I don’t see you complaining.” 

Henry shrugs, grabbing a cookie. “Maybe because I’m too busy cleaning up your mess.”

Despite their banter, the moment is still lingering, still there, both of them feel it. 

Henry had spent the past two days glued to his manuscript, day and night. He ate, drank, breathed, and slept the story that it felt like a part of him. His eyes ached, his fingers cramped and he was certain he could recite every word by heart. He was exhausted but proud. But when he attached the final document to an email and hit send , a wave of triumph washed over him. 

With a deep, satisfied sighed he stood up and walked to the bedroom. Alex was sprawled across the bed, his phone in hand, but he glanced up curiously when Henry walked in , holding his laptop like a trophy.  

“What’s that about, Blondie ?” Alex asked, his eyebrow arching as a grin tugged his lips. 

“You can’t guess ?” Henry chuckled, waving the laptop in the air. 

Alex sat up, and gasped dramatically. “Oh my God ! Congratulations, Hemingway ! Does this mean I can watch my movies at full volume without competing with your tap-tap-tap ?.” He raises his hands theatrically toward the ceiling. 

Henry rolled his eyes, sitting next to Alex on the bed. “Keep hoping.”

Alex smirked, leaning over to peek at the open page on Henry’s laptop. “Well, I certainly hope I’m in there somewhere. What’s the point of being trapped in this cabin with you if I don’t get a shoutout ?.” 

Henry hesitated for a moment before turning the laptop toward Alex. His voice softened as he pointed to the dedication page. “Actually…” 

“To the chaos that brought me peace” 

Alex blinked, his playful grin replaced by something quieter, more thoughtful. His heart skipped a beat as he read it again, the weight of the words sinking in.

“So I’m chaos now ?” He finally teased, his voice was softer than usual.

Henry met his gaze, a shy smile on his mouth. “The good kind.”

Alex’s breath hitched as he leaned closer. “I can live with that.” He murmured. 

Their eyes locked, the space between them charged with an energy that neither wanted to resist anymore. Alex’s gaze flicked to Henry’s lips. Henry’s breath caught as Alex leaned in, finally closing the gap between them. 

The kiss was slow at first, testing, but quickly deepened, full of the unspoken emotion they’d both kept bottled up. Henry grabbed Alex’s hair in a way… you know what way. 

Time seemed to stop as they gave in completely, savoring every second of the moment they’d both been craving. Alex’s stomach fluttered, and Henry’s heat raced faster than it had ever had. It was tender yet urgent’ a perfect mix of passion and relief. 

When they finally pulled back, both were breathless, their foreheads resting together as they caught their breaths. 

“I’ve been wanting to do that for a while” Alex admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. 

Henry laughed softly, his cheeks flushed. “Finally.” 

Alex’s smirk was back on his lips. “Let’s say the universe finally let me do my move.”

The next morning, Henry woke up to a ray of winter sunshine streaming through the window. He rolled to the side, his hands instinctively reaching out, only to find the spot beside him empty. He blinked, confused, and sat up, a knot forming in his stomach. Did Alex leave ? Did he regret the kiss ?

A thousand questions and fears swirled in his mind until the door creaked open. Alex appeared, his hair a charming mess, grinning and a tray in hand balanced in his hand.

“Hi there, Blondie.” Alex said warmly, leaning down to press a quick kiss to Henry’s lips before carefully setting the tray on the bed. “Thought you’d enjoy a celebration breakfast in bed after working so hard.”

Henry’s heart melted at the gesture. It was so thoughtful and sweet. No one had ever brought him breakfast in bed before. Sure there’d been fancy brunches with friends, but this felt… intimate. Personal. He liked it. 

“Thank you.” Henry said softly, wrapping a cup of tea, letting it warm his fingers. He glanced at Alex, hesitating for a moment before speaking. “You know for a minute, I thought you had left. Like… forever left.” 

Alex chuckled, sitting beside him. “Why would I want to leave you ? Besides, you’re about to make a hell of a check with this new book.” 

Henry laughed, rolling his eyes as he shoved Alex playfully and biting a slice of chocolate chip pancakes into his mouth. “Get out of here.” 

Alex grinned, sipping his hot chocolate. “So are you going to admit that they taste better than your mom’s” 

Henry raised an eyebrow, swallowing his bite. “Is that why you kissed me ? To get me to praise your cooking ?” 

“And what if I did ?” Alex teased, leaning in to peck him on the lips again. 

Henry smirked, shoving another piece of pancake into his mouth. “Well, I’d still qualify them as… edible.” Henry said, shoving a piece into his mouth, grinning at Alex.

Alex gasped dramatically. “Edible !?”

“Edible,” Henry repeated with mock seriousness.

“If you keep this up, I might just have to bury you in the snow.” Alex warned, his eyes sparkling with mischief. 

“You wouldn’t dare” Henry said with a shrug, feigning nonchalance as he reached for another pancake. 

“Oh, try me, baby,.” Alex retorted, his voice softening slightly on the last word. 

The pet name sent a flutter through Henry’s chest, and he quickly looked away, fighting the smile tugging at his lips.. 

“Actually, I’m daring you to a snow battle right here, right now.” Alex hopped up from the bed. Henry gulped as Alex pulled off his shirt to change, the sunlight catching on his toned abs.

“What are you waiting for, Blondie ?” Alex teased, trying to tug his sweater over his head. 

Henry snapped out of it, fumbling through his own bag for a shirt and his favourite Christmas sweater. Alex glanced at him and smirked.

“Ugly sweater contest isn’t until the 24th, I’m afraid.” 

Henry stuck out his tongue. “Fashion Week ended weeks ago, fyi.” 

“So you have noticed my impeccable style.” Alex said, winking. 

“How is it you always have a comeback for every pun.” Henry sighed as he slipped into his shoes.

“It takes practice, Honey. Maybe one day, you’ll be as good as me.” Alex flipped an imaginary strand of hair. 

“If it means being a walking tornado, I’ll pass.” 

“Or maybe,” Alex grinned, holding up his hands dramatically, “that day is today.” 

At the door, they grabbed their coats, scarfs and gloves. Alex turned to Henry, his voice mock-serious. “The moment we set foot outside, it’s war. No one gets back inside until one of us is buried in the snow.” 

Henry raised an eyebrow, then leaned in, catching Alex off guard with  a slow, passionate kiss. His hand slid into Alex’s hair, the other cupping his cheek. Alex froze for a moment, his heart pounding, before Henry pulled away with a grin and threw open the door.

Alex stood there stunned for a second before snapping out of it and running outside. Henry was already hiding behind a car, forming snowballs.

“That’s cheating, Blondie !” Alex yelled, crouching behind a bush to make his own stash. 

Henry laughed as he threw the first snowball, hitting Alex right on the arm. “Don’t hate the player, hate the game baby.” 

Alex gasped in mock indignation, grabbed two snowballs, and charged. Henry darted around the car, laughing, but ALex’s aim was perfect, one snowball smacked the back of Henry’s head. 

Henry stopped, spun around, and ran straight at Alex. 

“You’re going down, Tornado !” 

He grabbed Alex by the sides, trying to trip him, but Alex held his ground, tickling Henry until he let go. Shoving Henry playfully, Alex sprinted back to his stash, only for Henry to grab two handfuls of snow and follow close behind. 

They spent what felt like hours throwing snowballs, laughing and dodging each other’s attempts to tackle. By the time Henry’s teeth started chattering he hugged himself, rubbing his arms.

Alex noticed immediately, dropping his snowball and running over. “Let’s get you inside. I don’t want you getting hypothermia on me.” 

Back in the cabin, Alex helped Henry out of his coat before shrugging off his own. He ran to the living room, grabbing the same blanket that Henry had covered him with that first night. 

“Here,” Alex said, wrapping it around Henry’s shoulders. “Sit. I’ll make us hot drinks.” 

He leaned down to peck Henry on the cheek before heading to the kitchen.

Henry settled into the couch watching Alex from across the room. A warm smile tugged at his lips as he sighed contentedly.

This, he thought, was the best reward for finishing his manuscript. Of course, revisions were coming, but right now, all that mattered was that he’d found the Tornado who proved that sometimes, a little mess made all the difference.