Archive of Our Own ^beta

Alex wanted to look his best tonight. No, he needed to. It was a special night. His boyfriend, Henry’s siblings were in Los Angeles and were coming to Henry’s place for dinner. Alex had spoken to his younger sister over video chat a few times, but that night would be the first time meeting them both in person and he needed to make a great impression. 

Unfortunately, his hair was being uncooperative. The curls at the nape of his neck reached the collar of his maroon button up, and they all tended to spring and twirl whichever way they desired no matter how much time he spent on styling. He hadn’t let it grow out this much since high school, and the length was almost more hassle than it was worth. But Henry really liked it so he kept forgetting to schedule an appointment with his barber. 

Between the hair and the dark five o’clock shadow across his jaw and upper lip, he looked a little more casual than appropriate. So he stood in front of the mirror in the ensuite bathroom and ran a little oil through the mess of curls to tame as much of the pesky frizz as he could. Then he turned his attention to concerning stubble which he could eradicate quickly.

He knelt down to retrieve a razor and his shaving cream from the cabinet under his side of the double vanity. He technically hadn’t moved in with Henry, but it was his side now. His toothbrush and face wash were aligned on the left side of the marble countertop, perfectly matching Henry’s things on the right. Before Alex, he had admitted, the other sink was never used. Alex had his side of the bed too, and there were two drawers just for his clothes and space in the closet which was the size of Alex’s bedroom at home. Henry even bought him a pair of house slippers and silk robe to keep there. His favorite coffee and whole grain cereal were also always stocked in the pantry.

They had been dating for six months, which was not a long time at all, a blink of an eye really, but it felt like Henry had always been a part of his life. They knew each other down to the core, and yet, they still learned new things about each other every day and discovered new ways to express how much they cared about each other. He’d never felt this way about someone in his entire life. So he needed the people Henry was closest with to think he was a good match for him. That he was good enough. 

The first time he saw Henry, they were on the beach. It was a picturesque morning with the sun high in the cloudless sky and a cool breeze. He ran right in front of where Alex leaned back in the sand, looking like a modern day Prince Charming pulled right out of a romance movie. His blond hair fluttered with the gentle wind, and the sun highlighted the tops of his cheekbones and his full mouth. They made eye contact as he passed, and everything slowed. Time, his hair, Alex’s heart and his breath.

But the beagle running free in front of Prince Charming, sans leash, kept darting forward and the prince continued running after it. 

Alex didn’t have a moment to mourn the loss when his attention was pulled back to his own brood of pooches that were stationed around him like fluffy gargoyles, as Paris the Frenchie squeaked when Bronco the Saint Bernard accidentally sat on him. He had started his dog walking business a little over a year ago and from his very first client, a Doberman called Dez, the business has grown steadily, mostly from word of mouth of his rich clients, including a couple B-List actors, and had become a reliable stream of income. He picked up his crew every other day and once a week, he braved the traffic and took them down to Santa Monica beach, and it often felt more like play than actual work. 

There were just seven dogs with him that day, a smaller crowd than he was used to recently as a few of his regulars were off on vacation with their owners and the King Charles spaniel Molly was home healing from minor surgery. He planned to stop by once he dropped everyone off to give her some snuggles and sneak a treat. Her elderly owner, a former real estate agent to the stars, loved him, and he hated letting her down every time she asked if he had gone on any dates and found his special someone yet. 

The very next day, he ran into the mystery man again. Literally. He had half an hour before he needed to be at the law firm where he interned that semester and was dressed in business casual, a white polo and dark slacks, but the other man was clearly in a rush and looked all business. His suit jacket with its golden cuff links and perfectly folded pocket square likely cost more than what Alex made in a week. 

He barely took two steps into the smoothie shop near the downtown office, before he collided with the man hurrying to exit. 

Prince Charming managed to hold onto his smoothie, a green concoction in a large cup that would have annihilated Alex’s shirt, but he dropped his card, black and solid metal. He failed to notice that he’d even lost it, so Alex reached down to retrieve it and then held it out to him. But the man just stared up at him with wide eyes, and up this close, it was evident that Alex was an inch or so taller.

“I think you’ll need this,” he said, grinning that grin he knew could land him the digits if he played it cool.

There was a long pause where Prince Charming looked down at the card, up to Alex, and back around again.

 “Thanks you,” he finally said, with an S, like his brain couldn’t decide between thank you and thanks. “I have…meeting…go…sorry.” 

His accent was British, and though he was obviously flustered, the deep tone mixed with the proper annunciation was seductive. But the poor guy looked like he would slam his palm into his face if his hands weren’t occupied.

He uttered one final word, Bye, and then Alex was surprised that there wasn’t a cloud of dust where he once stood.

Alex shook his head, equal parts baffled and charmed. The glass door was slow to return to its frame, as if daring him to walk out of it and give chase. He settled on leaning out of it and shouting after him to have a good day, but the prince didn’t turn back around. He just kept on his hurried pace down the sidewalk, tripping on air with his perfectly polished shoes and catching himself before he actually fell. 

Cute.

Alex couldn’t help but ponder the chances of running into the same mystery man two days in a row in the vastness that was Los Angeles County. 

He had moved to LA with his dad after the divorce, just before his senior year of high school. After receiving his bachelors in political science, he spent a few years modeling and attempting to act, getting some jobs simply through his dad’s connections as a manager of a private security firm. 

After too many painfully failed auditions, he decided to go to law school. He’d always wanted to be an attorney, like his mom, and she was proud of him, though their relationship had been a bit strained since he chose to stay with his dad. He had two more semesters left and then he could take the bar and obtain his license. Once he found a full time position, then he would start truly building a stable life for himself, starting with finding a home of his own. Until then, he was just a year shy of thirty and still living at home with his dad and juggling a few part time jobs to save and help out wherever he could.

The following week, Alex had a full house of pups back at the beach, including a new client, a very demure black poodle named Lunar, owned by the daughter of an oil mogul. She got into a little tiff with the equally demure Afghan hound, Stella. But it was caused by tangled leashes which they squashed quickly after Alex straightened out the lines and apologized to both of them for not being more careful. It was a little hectic with this many of them, but it didn’t make it any less fun.

After their long walk, he ushered them all into his old FJ, once bright red, but now faded pink in some places. It had over two hundred thousand miles and duct tape on the back bumper. He kept the backseats turned down so there was plenty of room for the dogs. 

He was nearly finished, when the perpetually excited Samoyed, Nun (noon) zoomed off the moment his leash was unclipped and he made several quick laps around the car before Alex caught him and actually lifted all seventy pounds of him into the car. That distraction almost caused Alex to overlook the beagle that definitely was not on his roster but looked familiar. It stood between Coco the Miniature Pinscher and Chi Chi the Shih Tzu, tail wagging and head tilted up like he was waiting patiently to be picked up too.

He leaned down to greet the lost puppy, just as a British accent, also familiar, rang out across the parking lot. 

“David! Oh my god, that man is abducting my dog!” The shouts were laced with horror and grew louder as he approached, startling the dogs inside and outside of the car. “David! Stop! Stop him! Stop that ma-“

The man came to an abrupt stop a short distance away.

“It’s…you,” Prince Charming said, blissfully quieter.

Thankfully there weren’t too many people out that early and most of the others within ear shot seem to be annoyed by a man disrupting the peace and quiet of the morning or they saw the scene for what it is, a complete misunderstanding.

Alex looked him over, at his tight shirt and jogging shorts that fell just above the middle of his solid thighs. He would feel bad about checking him out so blatantly if not for the other man doing the same to him, his eyes making a deliberate cross over Alex’s tank top, then down one arm and up the other, both glistening with a thin layer of sweat after corralling the dogs.

“That was a bit dramatic,” Alex broke the charged silence with a teasing smirk.

“Well, you,” the man sputtered, trying to catch his breath with a blush brightening across his cheeks, “you’re trying to take my dog.”

He made his way closer so that there were just a few feet on either side of the dogs standing between them. 

He was even more beautiful than Alex remembered.

“I think your dog is trying to hitchhike,” Alex chuckled as he looked away for a moment to the beagle that was being sniffed by the small dogs around him. “You should have him on a leash, you know.”

There was a pause and the man’s broad shoulders dropped a little. “You’re right,” he said, “He normally isn’t like this. He never approaches strangers. But I only looked away for a second and he was gone. I panicked.”

“I didn’t expect to be accused of felony theft when I left the house this morning.”

Alex’s words were a bit harsh, but his smile balanced them out.

“I admit this has not been one of my finest moments,” the man said before straightening his shoulders and looking him directly in the eye. “You have my sincere apologies. Can we…start over?”

If Prince Charming had instead asked Alex to tell him the color of his eyes, it would have been an impossible task. His eyes were a surreal mix of colors, cool greens and deeper browns, and Alex couldn’t tell if it was a trick played by the sun or if the man’s eyes were truly shining gold.  

He didn’t need any time to contemplate the prince’s actual question, but he was so enraptured by his eyes, that it took a moment to reply. Those eyes widened and began to look defeated, so Alex quickly reached out his hand, an offering. 

“I’m Alex.”

Their hands met in the middle, and their skin tones were a marvelous contrast of porcelain and honey.

“Henry.”

It was nice to have an actual name, but Prince Charming was still just as fitting. Henry’s hand was soft, grip firm, and he smiled, a small, beautiful thing that seemed full of relief. 

High pitched barks from Coco and Chi Chi stole their attention and Alex regretfully let go of his hand. They were playing with the beagle, butting heads and jumping around each other.

“That’s David, which you probably also heard. In honor of Bowie.”

”I love Bowie,” Alex smiled as he tried to keep them from getting themselves tangled up in the leashes. “Seems like he’s already making new friends.”

“He’s usually anti-social and anxious. Something he gets from me, I’m afraid.”

“Maybe he could join the gang sometimes,” Alex said and tried not to trip over his words as he noticed Henry had folded his arms over his chest, thick biceps stretching the thin material of his shirt. “This kind of social interaction is good for dogs.”

Henry nodded toward the open door of the FJ, where Bronco, Dez, and Nun’s fluffy heads poked out, surely trying to figure out the hold up. The last of the group, the corgis Almond and Cashew, Al and Cash for short, were squished between their legs. Nun looked on the verge of jumping right back out.

“I can’t imagine all of these are yours,” he said. 

“Oh no, these are my clients. Though sometimes, they do feel like my kids that I have shared custody of.”

Henry watched with a look of amusement as he tried to push the big dogs back into the car and then attempted to separate David from the ones that were actually leaving with him. The Brit didn’t try to offer any help.

After Alex wrangled the last dog inside and shut the door, he handed Henry one of his cards that listed all of his professional endeavors, a neat ACD embossed in the center. With a wink, he made it clear that it included his personal cell and that he hoped Henry would use it for more than dog walking services.

He didn’t.

And it bothered Alex more than he would like to admit.

A week passed, and he struggled to get over the disappointment and forget about the awkward Brit and his posh dog he’d named after an iconic artist whose Aladdin Sane vinyl currently hung on the wall of Alex’s bedroom.

He was pulled from his misery, when his best friend, Nora, booked him a last minute bartending job for a high profile charity event. They had met over eight years ago on the set of a department store commercial where they portrayed a happy couple. She was still trying to make it big as an actor, but she always let Alex know about in between jobs like this when she was hired as well. It was a silent auction held by Hanover-Stuart International, a massive publishing house, with all proceeds going to LGBT youth shelters across the state. Nora told him that the host was one of the company’s co-chief executive officers.

While he manned the bar, she and a few other staff members canvassed the room with trays of hors d'oeuvre and wine glasses. The room was lit dimly to accentuate the small display lights over art pieces and other items up for auction across a long row of tables on the opposite side of the room. On the open floor in between, there were small round standing tables, where attendees could gather after placing their wagers. Soft instrumental music played as they began to arrive, and Alex could just see their wealth. It was in their clothes and flashy jewelry and the way they turned their noses up at him as they waited for their cocktails.

The required silver tie around his neck was stifling and he’d had to borrow his dad’s black button up so it was snug in the arms and shoulders. But the pay was nice and some people even left tips, so he sucked it up and turned on the charm.

The event was well under way with at least a hundred in attendance when he nearly dropped a full cocktail mixer. Because across the room, he spotted a familiar face, a face he’d lost hope of ever seeing again.

Henry was surrounded by a group of talking suits, each one focused on him and seeming to vie for his attention like a school of fish nipping at a single piece of bait on a hook. Henry was clearly someone important, someone in charge.

Before he could fully contemplate the deranged idea of hopping over the bar to go over to him, Nora approached with an empty wine tray. 

“Being surrounded by this much wealth inequality is giving me bad juju,” she said and leaned dramatically over the bar. “Do you wanna get drinks after this?

Alex arranged new wine glasses on the tray and began to fill them one by one.

“Don’t look,” he stage whispered and then nodded over her shoulder, “but he’s here.”

Of course, she did the exact opposite and whipped around to peer in that direction.

“I said don’t look- Shit!” He overfilled a glass and reached for a cloth to clean the mess.

Nora looked at him like he was crazy and took the wine bottle to finish pouring, which was a good idea. “He who?”

”That’s Henry, the guy from the beach. And the smoothie shop by the firm. And the beach again.”

“The pretty boy with blond hair?”

He nodded, and Nora suddenly looked like The Grinch concocting an evil plan, her mouth curving up into a massive grin.

“Alex, that’s the CEO,” she said and looked over again. “He looks even better in person. Definitely a white boy I’d go for.”

He blinked. 

Blinked again. 

Then he yanked his phone out and quickly googled the company.

And there was Henry. 

Photos of him across various new articles, a flawless headshot, lifestyle photos in the office, and candid shots on the street outside the UK headquarters with his brother, the other co-CEO. A quick scan of the headlines explained that the former CEO, their grandmother had retired just a few months ago, apparently begrudgingly in the face of a weary board that lost trust in her leadership. Now, Henry served as the CEO in the US and his brother in the UK. At thirty, Henry was one of the youngest CEOs of a multi-billion dollar international company.

“What the fuck? Seriously, what the fuck?”

Nora seemed to be enjoying this far too much, pure delight written across her face as she leaned beside the full tray, forearms on the bar. 

“Are you gonna talk to him?”

Alex shrugged and tucked his phone away. “He didn’t call me.”

“So? Can you imagine how many business cards that man is handed everyday? Maybe yours got lost in the mix. Or if he’s really as adorkable as you say, maybe he was too shy to reach out.”

The strong scent of too much perfume filled the air around them right before a throat cleared obnoxiously. An older woman with a fur shawl stood inches from Nora, waiting impatiently for service.

“If you don’t talk to him, I will,” Nora winked as she carefully picked up her tray and headed back into the crowd.

Alex threw the dirty cloth on the floor to keep from throwing it at her. Then he tried his best to schmooze the woman whose perfume bottle must have exploded, but he accepted that the exchange wouldn’t end with a tip and he didn’t even care.

Not when Henry noticed him not long after that, and time slowed once again, like this really was some kind of romantic comedy. He looked just as surprised to see Alex there, but he didn’t appear unhappy. He looked like a million bucks, and he was likely wearing that much with his perfectly tailored three piece suit and a watch and gold ring on his pinky finger. He looked far more confident than the few times Alex had seen him, his head held high and shoulders square, like this place was his element.

They spent the night trading glances as Henry bounced around the room, no doubt wooing people into opening their wallets. Near the end of the night, he gave a powerful and rousing speech, and there was no trace of the anxious man who couldn’t remember how to say thank you just a few days before. Only after the winners of the auctions were announced and his guests began to depart did he make his way over to Alex.

“So you’re Henry Hanover-Stuart?” Alex couldn’t help but smile at him as he set down the towel he’d been using to clean the surface of the bar. Some of that shyness came back for a couple seconds as Henry struggled to meet his eyes.

“Henry Hanover-Stuart-Fox, actually.”

“And I thought Alexander Claremont-Diaz was a mouth full.”

That earned him a laugh, a deep, sweet sound that he wanted to hear again immediately, and he was glad to see Henry relax.

Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed Nora loitering in the thinning crowd behind Henry, and she gave him a thumbs up.

“I take it you lost my card?” he asked, trying to sound casual, but he had to know. If Henry wasn’t interested, he would accept it and move on. But it seemed like fate was giving them another chance. This was the fourth time they had met in the span of two weeks. It had to mean something.

“It’s still tucked into the sun visor in my car,” Henry revealed as he began to twist the pinky ring. “I admit I couldn’t bring myself to contact you, for business nor…personal matters, because I was rather embarrassed.”

“I thought we started over? There’s nothing to be embarrassed about.”

Alex meant it, and he was glad that Henry seemed to believe him.

He took a deep breath, let go of his ring, and then asked, “What are your plans after this?” 

Even if Alex had any, he would cancel all of them right then and there, including drinks with Nora, which he was fairly sure he never agreed to anyway.

They ended the night in Henry’s jaw dropping condo, once owned by Barbra Streisand, with an open floor plan and floor to ceiling windows and more square footage than the modest two story house Alex’s dad still paid a mortgage on. He’d bought the place the year before and had given his interior designer near free rein, the concept modern with clean whites and soft grays. 

The kitchen was straight out of the future with shining, high tech appliances, and Henry shed his jacket, rolled up his sleeves and put together cold wraps with surprising precision. Alex got rid of the stupid tie, but he hated it a little less when he caught Henry watching him loosen the collar, as though the basic staff outfit was something tempting.

They ate at the coffee table, David close by hoping they dropped something for him, and worked through a bottle of wine and talked for hours. 

Henry looked baffled and impressed when Alex listed all of the jobs he’d had since he started working in LA, and he didn’t have to beg much to get Alex to share some of his old modeling campaigns and they watched one episode of a teen show where he actually had a speaking role. Henry, in turn, vented his frustration with his grandmother’s unwillingness in recent years to allow HSI to evolve and grow with the times. Though her place as a member of the board had no actual voting authority, she refused to fully let go and let him lead the company like he knew he could. 

They trading tales of growing up in London and Austin and grew a little somber over the shared absence of their mothers in the later part.

They shared their short histories of dating, neither of them having been in a serious relationship that lasted more than a few months. Alex admitted that he was likely shaped by being a child of divorce, but he hoped that he could find someone to break that cycle with. Henry understood. Dating was especially difficult for him, so much so that he’d never dated publicly, because there was always the worry that someone was only after his last name and bank account. His last attempt a couple years ago had ended in an attempted blackmail scheme that sent him into a terrible bout of depression. But after some therapy and healing, he was open to finding someone who truly wanted to stand beside him, for him and only him.

Alex hated having to leave, but he had class the next morning. He departed only once he learned that Henry’s lips felt as soft as they looked, and only after he had Henry’s number saved in his phone. The contact photo was one that he took as Henry leaned back against the sofa, a flush across his cheeks from the alcohol and Alex calling him Beautiful just before he snapped the picture. Alex had cuddled up to a sleepy David to take his own photo for Henry’s phone, and Henry watched them with a sweet smile.

Over the following weeks, he learned that Henry truly was a textbook introvert, outside of work which often drained his social battery. Their first few dates remained in the comfort of Henry’s home, and Alex had zero complaints. Henry couldn’t cook with an actual flame, but Alex started to look forward to his wraps, sandwiches, and salads for which he used only the freshest and most premium ingredients, always on hand thanks to his trusted assistant, Shaan. Sometimes, Alex would cook, much to Henry’s delight, and they’d watch anything between a horror movie and a baking show. And afterwards, he’d ask Henry to play his exquisite grand piano, and the condo would become a concert hall for just the two of them. 

An entire room was reserved for walls of books and the large vinyl collection inherited from his father. They spent hours just laying on the floor and listening to records across all genres, and Henry told him about the heavy loss he still felt from his father’s passing when he was a teen. The signet ring he wore on his pinky was another inheritance from his father, an elegant F carved onto the smooth, golden surface.

A small section of the room housed dozens of journals full of short stories, each one handwritten by Henry, stories he’d never shared with anyone. After a little encouragement, he let Alex pick a journal at random and then read aloud for him. He started hesitant and shy, just like he had when they first met, but as he went on, he grew confident and sure. His words were poetry, pure, and captivating, a window into his soul that nearly brought Alex to tears as he was allowed into the fairy tales and fantasy worlds that lived in Henry’s mind. He jokingly asked if Henry knew anyone in publishing, because his work was too incredible to stay hidden on a shelf. Henry explained that he was always meant to run the company one day, like it was the only option, and he tried to mask the disappointment in his eyes with a small, somber smile which Alex kissed and kissed until it became a true one.

As they got closer, their dates ventured out of the condo. They went to Venice Beach, not one of Alex’s favorite spots for surfing but a good one for beginners, and Henry did surprisingly well for a first timer. His face got a little sunburned, and so Alex was prepared with the best sunscreen he could buy when they went hiking in Griffith Park. David tagged along and did his best to keep up, but when the little guy eventually plopped down in the dirt, Alex volunteered to carry him back down the trail. Then when Henry’s best friend, Pez, came to the city on his private jet, they drank a bottle of tequila and Henry stepped onto a karaoke stage and sang without inhibitions, and Alex blamed the alcohol for the swarms of butterflies and lady bugs and love bugs that attacked his heart.

It was easy to forget just how wealthy Henry was. He drove a Rolls-Royce Cullinan, which Alex didn’t even know existed, let alone came with a price tag of half a million dollars, and he took him to an upscale restaurant Alex wouldn’t have gotten into unless he was paid to wash the dishes. But then Nora told him that the historic Vista Theatre owned by Quentin Tarantino was playing a series of classic movies with discounted tickets. So Henry rode in the passenger seat of the FJ and made no remarks about its age or the faint scent of the outdoors and canine that clung to the interior no matter how deep Alex cleaned it, and they went to see House on Haunted Hill, filling up on popcorn drowned in butter and sour candy. 

But then Henry took him on his own private jet, technically the company’s, for a business trip to Vancouver. The flight was a mind blowing experience in itself, and it was nice to explore a country he’d never been to during the day while Henry attended meetings. But the evenings were reserved for them and they had fun as silly tourists together, and in the nighttime, they made full use of various surfaces across their spralling suite.

Later, back in LA, Henry insisted on buying a bespoke tux for him and held his arm or waist the entire duration of a gala with some of his board members, their most prominent clients, and other celebrities and elites. It took every ounce of Alex’s self control to keep from asking Pierce Brosnan, friggin James Bond, for an autograph. He did leave with the phone number of one Tom Ford’s personal assistant who told him to call when he wanted to return to modeling. 

In turn, Henry attended the first aid and CPR course Alex taught twice a month at the local YMCA, and Alex came close to needing medical aid himself as he watched Henry interact so sweetly with his class of pre-teens. Henry seemed thrilled to let them practice their bandages and gauze dressings on him until he was practically mummified, and he praised each one of them even when their applications needed a little more work.

Then after some convincing, he came to a spin class which Alex instructed at the gym every Saturday evening.

“What can’t you do?” Henry had asked him afterwards when the nosey regulars, who wanted to know more about his friiieend, had all cleared out.

“I think that’s my line,” Alex returned, because Henry had kept up during the entire class and never complained once. He looked edible, hair and clothes damp from exertion, and Alex wanted him. So he dragged him by the collar of his shirt to the employees only locker room for a private session.

Sex with Henry felt like his stories. That same window opened every time their bodies connected. Their bodies perfectly matched like pieces of a puzzle and they seemed to inherently know exactly what to do to bring each other to utter euphoria every single time. It was poetry in motion, and Alex did cry once. Or twice.

Nothing had ever felt like it did with Henry.

He was everything Alex had ever thought to want in a partner, plus wonderful things he hadn’t. 

Henry was perfect. 

Except for one thing.

A giant yet petite thing, a thing that sucked the life out of every room while demanding full attention out of it, the embodiment of a wolf in sheep’s clothing, conniving, odious, a thing that must have sold every piece of its soul in exchange for all of its success, a thing that, at Alex’s most vulnerable and weak moments, forced a teeny tiny part of him to question if all of this was worth it, if Henry was worth it.

His grandmother.

It had been three amazing months of dating when Alex had the misfortune of meeting her for the first time. He’d gone to pick Henry and David up for their walk, even though getting them first disrupted his usual route. But he wanted to spend as much time with him as possible before he needed to go to the office, and some of the dogs had started to like Henry more than him, so it made getting them all into the FJ a little easier. 

Henry had told him she was going to be spending a few months in LA, just in case Henry needed her assistance as the company expanded the US headquarters and worked out some transitional issues. Still, it surprised him when Mary Hanover-Stuart answered the front door. She was average height with the heels of black pumps, a bit stout in a flowing blouse tucked into a pencil skirt, like she was on her way to the office.

Alex wasn’t exactly dressed to impress in his regular dog walking attire, mesh shorts, well worn sneakers, mid calf socks, and a backwards cap over his hair that was just starting to grow a bit out of control. He looked like a total dude bro. He probably could have charmed his way through the lack of better dress. 

If not for the tank top. 

One that declared Real Cowboys Ride Cock. 

It had been a gag gift from Nora on his birthday earlier that year, and he loved it. Up until that very moment. The cock was at least implied with a rudimentary cartoon chicken donning a cowboy hat instead of the word itself, but it was clear that the woman understood the meaning and Alex wished the ground would swallow him up and spit him out in China.

Her hair was a bob cut of soft blonde not that different from Henry’s, very likely dyed and dyed well. Her features and figure suggested that she had been a bombshell in her youth, tasteful makeup done up as though she had a professional artist at home with a pinky nude lipstick that did nothing to soften the hard set of her mouth or the words that came out of it.

“Darling, the help is here.”

Henry was already on his way, not dressed in athletic clothes as expected but in a suit, an indication that there had been a change of plans. Alex couldn’t even dwell on it, not when Henry looked so horrified as he came to stand over her shoulder.

“Jesus Christ, grandmother, please, this is Alex. He’s my- my boyfriend.”

They hadn’t used that term before, but Alex couldn’t disagree at all. He felt warm suddenly and a smile spread over his face.

But Henry’s grandmother eyed him and his shirt with such a look of disdain that it dampered his excitement. 

She kept that same look the three or four times they met after that. Henry never seemed to notice as he was often too busy looking at him, which Alex couldn’t complain about. But she liked to comment on Alex’s job as a dog walker, and his attempts at explaining all that he did while he studied law fell on deaf ears. He became self conscious about what he wore around her, and since she liked to drop by unannounced, he began to dress up every time he was around Henry.

Even when she wasn’t around in person, he could feel her hand reaching out to interfere with Henry’s time with him. Henry had to reschedule a date to take his grandmother to an urgent hair appointment. Though she had an assistant, Amy, who usually handled those sorts of things, so Henry was just as annoyed about that as Alex. He’d even needed to leave Alex alone in his condo when she called in the middle of the night in hysterics because she didn’t want to be alone in her big LA mansion. And it was a literal mansion.

Alex half jokingly asked if he would inherit it one day, and Henry had straight faced told him that he would. Philip would get the estate in London, their mother would probably like the one in Bieldside, which would leave the one in Monaco to Bea. They would split the other smaller properties between them. Fucking rich people. Alex almost felt bad thinking it. Henry was incredibly humble and generous and kind, and he never made Alex feel insecure for having far less than him. He couldn’t help the family he was born into the same way that Alex couldn’t.

Fortunately, he got more time to spend with Henry once he completed his internship. His boss at the gym asked him if he wanted to teach another spin class, a more advanced course, so that gave him a little more income. Henry, of course, stayed busy throughout the week, but he always made time for Alex and had Shaan do his best to align their schedules.

This thing between them shouldn’t work, they came from two different worlds. But it did, and it was so easy. He didn’t know that being in a relationship could feel this good. Not after watching his parents’ marriage fall to pieces and then being locked in the middle, tugged from one side to the other until he was old enough to speak for himself. It had nearly crushed his hope or desire of ever finding something that could last. Though he and Henry had been together for such a short time, just six months, he was full of hope, and it felt like Henry could be the one. His special someone. And he wasn’t going to let one bitter old lady ruin it for them.

When Henry invited him and his parents to dinner at the condo when his siblings came to LA, he and his dad happily accepted the invitation. His mom and her new husband, unfortunately, weren’t able to make the trip from Austin on such short notice. He tried not to let that bring him down, instead he focused on how happy he was in his relationship and how this was another significant step in its development. Which was probably why he didn’t anticipate Henry inviting his grandmother as well. 

He had only found out the morning of, and now he stood in the bathroom, fretting over facial hair and doing his damndest to make sure he looked his very best. His maroon shirt was buttoned all the way up and tucked into dark gray slacks he’d ironed creases into. Henry had tried to convince him that he could dress comfortably, undo a button or two, had reminded him that it was just family, but Alex rebuffed his attempts. 

As he began to lather a layer of white shaving cream over his jaw, the man himself walked through the open door behind him.

“Sweetheart, didn’t you already shave this morning?” 

Alex watched through the reflection in the mirror as he came to stand behind him, hands settling over his waist. They looked really good together. Henry in jeans and a soft tan sweater, his hair mostly left to air dry in a tousled style with some of the fringe down over his forehead, making him look even younger and so cute.

“Alex?”

He had indeed shaved that morning before they left for the supermarket, Henry at his side doing the same, so he nodded.

“I wanted to make sure everything was still neat and clean,” he said as he finished evenly dispersing the cream along his jaw and tried not to feel envious of Henry who could go days without shaving and have no shadow at all.

Henry turned him around to face him in a quick, surprising move, eyes serious. “This isn’t about what my grandmother said, is it?” 

The last time they had met in person, Alex was fresh off a study bender and two exams and he hadn’t had time to shave or see Henry in days. The first available moment they both had, they squeezed in a brunch date at a new cutesy cafe, and Mary crashed down on it with absolutely no shame. As soon as she saw him, she told Alex he looked homeless. 

Alex had to bite his tongue to keep from telling her that he was fortunate to have a place to call home, but he suspected that she would find the fact that he still lived with his father even more damning than not having a home at all.

Henry had apologized over and over for her cruel words, telling him that she had come into the office unannounced and insisted on joining them. Then he begged for Alex’s forgiveness later that night. Down on his knees in the shower. Then again the next morning in bed before Alex was even fully awake. He almost cried then too.

“I just want her to like me.”

Henry frowned and grabbed the sides of his face, unmindful of the cream there.

“What she thinks doesn’t matter, okay? I love-” Henry paused, eyes widening in a way that Alex may have missed if they weren’t so close. ”I love when you get a little scruffy. I love that you’ve let your hair grow out. I love that you’ve chosen to dress up to meet my brother and sister, even though you look just as gorgeous in a tank top and shorts.“

Alex appreciated the praise, he really did, but he most certainly was not wearing another tank top in the presence of his family, ever.

“You are perfect. Always,” Henry said, thumb rubbing gently across his cheek, creating a little snow angel there. “Leave it. And you know what, I think you should try a full beard one day.”

That thought put a smile back on Henry’s face.

“But-”

Henry shut him up quick with a long, firm kiss, and with his mouth still pressed against Alex’s, an additive tickle, he whispered, “Please leave it. For me?”

Then he kissed him again, heavier, messier. The shaving cream didn’t taste good at all, but Alex wasn’t going to be the one to stop, because Henry. He groaned into the kiss and the sound morphed into a yelp when the intercom system at the front door chimed to let them know someone was in the lobby waiting to be let up.

Henry chuckled and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand as he went to answer, leaving Alex to quickly clean his face and then stow the unused razor back in the cabinet.

Thankfully, it was his dad.

He stood in the wide entry way, smiling, dressed in jeans and a linen jacket. “It smells amazing in here.”

Alex pulled him into a hug, even though they had seen each other at home just a couple days before. 

“I’m so glad you could make it.”

“Of course, mijo,” his dad said with a final pat on the back. “I wouldn’t miss it.”

Alex noticed then that Henry held a box in his hands, and he recognized it instantly, even if the lid wasn’t half slid back to reveal the contents inside.

“I knew we had an extra set,” his dad said casually.

But Alex knew that the box Henry held carefully, like he was afraid to drop it, was a special set. A set of red domino tiles with dahlias hand painted on the back of each one, some of the paint chipped in show of their age and wear. His dad had bought it on the first trip Alex remembered of Mexico when he was just six years old, long before he could play the game himself. He remembered sitting on his dad’s lap while he watched him, his abuela, Tia, and older cousins play, each round more exciting and rowdy than the last. He looked forward to retelling the story and many like it to Henry.

The gift showed just how much his dad liked Henry. He had enjoyed teaching him how to play dominoes when he came to the house to watch a soccer game. He’d been pleasantly surprised when Henry showed himself to be a quick learner, much quicker than Alex who took the entirety of his formative years to even come close to beating his dad. 

He had confided in his dad about the issues with Mary. But Oscar was of that Latino mindset of respecting matriarchs, so he constantly reminded Alex to be patient.

“Thank you again, Oscar,” Henry said. “This set is absolutely gorgeous. I promise to take good care of it.”

His dad smiled but he was looking at Alex when he said, “I’m sure you will.”

Henry’s siblings arrived shortly after. Bea was a breeze, and just as generous as her brother, looking exceptional in a deep plum maxi dress, with the striking color brought up onto her lips. She presented him with a leather satchel that smelled like money and would be perfect when he had esquire attached to his name. He thanked her repeatedly but she just hugged him again and then held him by his forearms as she looked up at him.

“FaceTime truly does not do you justice, Alex.”

“Says you. Somehow, you’re more beautiful than Henry.” 

It was a blatant tease for the man standing at his side, but it earned him a swat against his butt.

Alex didn’t miss the grimace that passed over his older brother, Philip’s face, buttoned up in a navy suit and crisp collared shirt, but he was quick to mask it with a tight lipped smile when Alex offered his hand.

Nora, who Alex had begged to come so he was a little less outnumbered, arrived in an off the shoulder sweater dress and a glistening gold necklace.

He whistled at the thick teardrop diamond dangling in the center of his clavicles.

“Pez?”

She beamed just as bright as the diamond. 

“I told him all of the flowers were more than enough, but it would be in bad taste if I tried to get him to return it, don’t you think?”

“I definitely think,” he grinned.

Chatter and laughter from the others had Nora leaning into him, and she asked conspiratorially, “Do we need to establish a code word for me to fake anaphylactic shock if things go south?” 

Alex appreciated her. She was like a big and little sister wrapped in one. She was always there for him, including to listen to him vent about Mary, far less filtered and censored than what he said to his dad.

Mary was fashionably late, but she showed up wearing a beaded gown and matching handbag, which should have been overkill but it was beautiful on her and Alex told her so. She didn’t acknowledge the compliment, instead threw a jab at Henry’s casual attire and hair, asking if he was quite alright, dear. 

Alex suddenly wished he had listened to Henry and dressed down, so that he could stand next to him in solidarity and resistance against her. Instead, he took Henry by the chin, told him you look incredible, baby. Then he kissed him square on his mouth until it curved back up into a smile, right there in front of Jesus, Joseph, and Mary, who looked constipated and then hurried off in search of her other grandchildren.

Alex didn’t want that small incident to set the tone for the entire evening. So he took advantage of their moment alone and made a show of undoing the top two buttons of his shirt which made Henry brighten even more. Then he kissed him again and gave his butt a good squeeze before they went to join the others.

He had prepared antojitos for dinner, street foods that didn’t require utensils but produced lots of napkins. He slow-roasted beef and a couple other meats throughout the day with a mix of spices and herbs, perfected by his abuela and passed down to his dad who taught him everything he knew. Henry had spoken to his abuela on the phone a couple times, using Alex as a translator amidst the little broken English she knew. She was the sweetest, most kind hearted person Alex knew and she adored Henry already, which made Mary’s contrast even more apparent and made her attacks on him sting even more.

Henry loved his abuela’s secret recipe hot sauce that gave everything that extra kick. She always sent bottles of varying heats from Mexico for Alex and her son to keep in stock, and the last batch came with a couple extra for Henry. He was making one of Henry’s favorites, shredded chicken tacos, and if he was totally honest, he’d admit that a part of him looked forward to seeing prim and proper Mary Hanover-Stuart try to eat a taco without getting her hands dirty.

Of course, she commanded Henry to bring her a fork and knife once they were all seated around the long glass dinner table which Henry admitted also never got much use. Mary sat at the head, with Bea and Henry to her right and left. Alex got up instead of Henry who sat next to him, just so he didn’t have to and to grab a bottle of hot sauce.

“I can’t believe I almost forgot this. Mary, you have to try this,” he said as he handed over the silverware and set the bottle in front of her. “My abuela makes it. She actually helped me with the entire meal tonight.”

“Alex, I’m not sure that’s a good idea.” Henry started to reach for the bottle, but Alex grabbed his hand.

“It’s the mildest version, I promise it mostly adds extra flavor.” The bottle had a simple sticker on it with just one of four peppers colored in.

“It is quite good, grandmother.” 

Mary looked hesitant, but with encouragement from the rest of the table, she decided to try it.

Alex shared an amused grin with his dad, on his other side, as she began to pick her way through the tortilla shell. Eventually, she gathered a portion onto the fork and brought it to her mouth.

Then she choked. The utensils clattered as she dropped them and then spit into her cloth napkin.

“Christ!” She coughed.

“Grandmother, what is it?” Philip asked from the other end of the table, as Mary reached for her glass of wine and began to chug it. 

“That is not mild!” She cried out, her brow suddenly glistening. “My mouth is on fire!”

Bea reached out with her own napkin to fan at her face while Henry shoved his glass of water into her other hand. 

Alex stood to retrieve the bottle and held it up to take a whiff of the spicy scent, so strong it made his eyes water. “I’m sure this was an honest mistake. She’s been testing a new recipe with Carolina Reapers, she must have gotten the labels mixed up.”

Henry gasped. His dad cursed quietly in Spanish, and Nora looked like she was trying her best not to laugh.

“Let me get you some ice.”

“I’ve got it,” Alex told Henry, “And I’ll make a new plate for you, Mary.”

“Yes, and do tell your abuela to visit the nearest optometrist,” she snapped and then continued to gulp the water.

Alex had to bite his tongue to the point that it hurt and forced himself to go back to the kitchen.

Once Mary cooled off, the evening went by more easily. Bea and Nora hit it off while his dad and Philip dove off into stock market talk. Mary was surprisingly cordial to his father and Nora who she met for the first time, but she was mostly kept occupied by Henry. He listened as she complained about her assistant causing her to be late though Alex knew it was a lie. Amy was a kind woman with a witty sense of humor and Alex wondered why she remained committed to Mary. The money must have been really good.

They all awed over new pictures of Henry’s twin nephews who were starting preschool in the new year. Henry told his brother to check with his wife Martha, who Mary apparently treated like her own daughter, to see when he could arrange a trip to visit them. As he did, his hand came over to grasp Alex’s under the table and Alex hoped that meant the trip would include him. 

Bea and Philip praised the chicken and barbacoa beef tacos, though the latter struggled his way through the elotes, like he’d never eaten corn on or off the cob. Alex had even cut the cobs into smaller portions for easier eating. Rich people, he thought, but a little more fondly now that he knew they were not all like-

“Alexander, it seems that I don’t have the same…taco as my grandchildren.” Mary said the word as if it was beneath her, cheap and for lesser men. She had barely finished one of the two Alex had put on her replacement plate.

He grinned.

“Oh, I made those especially for you. It’s tacos de lengua,” he said in the thickest accent he could muster. 

A single, loud Ha! came from Nora before she slapped a hand over her own mouth.

Mary eyed her curiously for a moment, then down at her plate which was half empty, and finally, back at Alex. “I’m afraid I do not know what that means.”

“Lengua means language in Spanish. But it also means tongue… You’re eating cow tongue. It’s my abuela’s favorite.”

Mary gasped and her face immediately began to turn a worrying shade of red. A pin drop could be heard in the moments following and whatever enraged curses she had in store for him were halted by the dry heave that forced its way out of her. Everyone was frozen and watched as it happened again. 

Bea was the first to move and quickly ushered her out of the kitchen toward the restroom. Henry was slow to follow after them, giving Alex’s thigh a soft squeeze before he got up from the table, and Alex could see that little amused smirk he failed to conceal.

Nora reached across the table and didn’t have to wait long for him to bump it with his own. Phillip looked like he was struggling not to laugh. His dad, surprisingly, wasn’t even trying to fight it.

The minutes afterwards dragged by and were filled with the muffled shouts coming from the bathroom. Bea came back out to fetch her grandmother’s purse for touch ups, she told them in passing, even though Mary, dramatic as ever, didn’t actually need them. She winked at Alex as she went, and he took that as another point for him. 

Somehow, Bea and Henry were able to convince Mary to stay for dessert. She looked fine, just a bit of lipstick smudged slightly along her bottom lip, when she returned to the table which Alex and Nora had cleared while they waited. 

He dished out slices of flan he made from scratch, but Mary didn’t touch the small plate or fork he set beside it. Everyone else tried to keep the conversation flowing while they enjoyed the custard, every compliment toward it earning him another glare from Mary. 

He barely kept up with the conversation. He felt a tiny and annoying smidge of guilt for what he’d done. The idea had formed the day before when he called his abuela to make sure he had everything needed for the seasoning mixes. Most people wouldn’t even notice a difference between lengua and ground beef, but Mary reacted just as he expected. But maybe he had crossed the line, maybe just a little bit.

He was working himself up to apologizing before the evening ended, but then he caught the tail end of a sentence in which his dad mentioned something about him still living at home. 

Fuck.

“And you’re proud of this?” Mary latched on instantly, interrupting his dad’s next sentence.

He looked down the table at her in confusion, seemingly caught off guard by the venom in her voice. “Of course, I’m very proud of my son. Why wouldn’t I be? He has multiple jobs and will be an attorney this time next year.”

“So he says.”

Tension settled over the room like a dark cloud, and, with a sinking feeling, Alex knew that anything said after this was not going to be good.

“What is that supposed to mean?” Oscar asked, but Mary acted as though he didn’t speak.

“Tell me, Henry, has he asked you for money?”

Henry was sitting still next to him, his head tucked down to his chest. The only slight movement was the twisting of the ring on his finger which only Alex could see, and that too ceased before he spoke, voice quiet and strained.

“What?”

“Answer my question,” Mary snapped, like she was talking to a small child.

“I don’t see how that is any of your busi-”

“Henry! Look at me and answer the question.”

Alex wanted to stop time then and there and send everyone home, he wanted to forbid Mary from ever uttering another word to Henry. Because the shout of his name startled Henry so much, he jumped. But to Alex’s dismay, he did as he was told.

“No, Alex has never asked me for money, grandmother. And even if he did-“

“If he did, what would you do?”

“I would give it to him in a heartbeat.”

“Precisely. You may not see it now, but he is a leech. I know their type well, and he will bleed you and our company dry.”

It was this attack that finally maxed out Alex’s patience. She hadn’t pointed a finger directly at him and his dad, but the implication was quite clear. He was already raging from the way she degraded Henry, but this was another step too far. 

“Listen,” he spoke up, “I can handle your thinly veiled racist and classist vitriol, but I will not allow you to disrespect my father.”

His dad put a hand on his shoulder, but Alex couldn’t tell if it was a warning or an offer of support as his voice trembled near the end of his sentence.

“This is my grandson’s home, I will do as I please.”

She looked at him like she wished he’d disintegrate into a pile of ashes, and he felt like he might, like he was burning from the inside. He couldn’t even remember if there were people on the other side of the table, he didn’t care, not when he was so overcome with the need to finally give this woman a little piece of his mind.

“You are really something, Mary,” he said, voice low.

“I beg your pardon.”

“Mijo.” That was a warning, but Alex shrugged it and his dad’s hand off.

“You have the nerve to question my father for allowing me to continue living at home so I can save money and get my degrees. And yet you’ve given your grandchildren everything including a company worth billions. Can you not see how big of a hypocrite you are or are you just that blinded by your own hate for me, who wants nothing from Henry but for him to be happy?”

For the first time, Mary seemed to lose some steam, but she quickly gathered herself and set her sights on her grandson again.

“Are you going to let him speak to me this way?”

“Grandmother, please.”

Henry sounded like that small child now, pleading for her to put a stop to this. But as Alex had learned over the last three months, Mary was not one to back down so easily.

“Do you think I don’t know about Vancouver? Did you think I wouldn’t find out about how you flaunted him around the banquet for our board members to see,” her voice grew louder with each word. “I will not have you embarrass me, this family, and my company. I let you come to Los Angeles and start anew after the last one tried to destroy you. I let you use my name and all that I’ve built to promote those lesbian and gay causes. But I will not tolerate this gold digging boy-”

“That’s enough!”

Henry shot up from his seat. There was silence for a few agonizing moments but when he spoke again, it was almost as if he was talking to himself, having come to a devastating revelation.

“That’s what this has always been about, hasn’t it?” A haunting laugh trembled out of him, but there was no humor to it. “It’s not about Alex or HSI or the money, it’s the simple fact that he is a man.”

Her silence was answer enough.

“It is an awful shame really,” Henry went on despite it, like her response wouldn’t have mattered, “that you won’t allow yourself to see how special he is and how happy he makes me. He has unlocked parts of me that I didn’t know existed, and he wants me for me. Nothing more, nothing less.”

Again, Alex had to fight the urge to get up and take Henry out of here with him, to bring him somewhere quiet and warm and hold him until all he knew was the safety of his arms. 

“I love him, grandmother,” Henry said, resolute, and it surprised not only Mary. Alex was stunned too.

He turned to face him then. “I love him. With all that I am and will ever be. I will… I will marry him one day.” 

His beautiful eyes welled up, but he smiled, a small trepadious thing, and Alex reached out to tangle their fingers together, squeezing Henry’s tight.

He looked back at his grandmother, defiance clear in his tone, his stance, and the way he gripped Alex’s hand right back. “And he will be your family whether you like it or not. If you can’t accept that, then there’s no space for you in our life.”

Henry sat back down, his head held high and hand still linked with Alex’s. 

Christ, Alex was so in love with him

“Well,” Mary said, “I can see where I am not welcome.”

Then she started to rise from her seat, but another voice made her freeze.

“No, grandmother, you are welcome. You just refuse to offer the same to Alex.” 

“Philip-” Mary started, but Philip barreled on, his words unwavering.

“I’ve stayed quiet for far too long. But this has to end,” he said, looking down the table at her as she sank back into her seat like an anchor off the side of a ship. “You’ve always tried to control Henry and I think you’ve always believed that if you introduce him to the right woman, he will change. But he won’t. Henry is who he was meant to be. He is an amazing brother, the best uncle, an exceptional leader, and dad would be so proud of him. If you cannot see that, then you won’t just lose Henry. You will lose me too, and Martha, Louis and Arthur.”

“And me.” Bea had tears on her cheeks, but her threat was just as unflinching as her brother.

Alex had forgotten they were even there, but he was so glad that they were and that they were standing beside Henry, something that seemed long overdue. 

Between them, Nora seemed as though she was sitting on her hands to keep from doing something like applauding.

Mary looked around the table at all of them, almost calculating, before she stopped on Henry.

“I believe we’re all a bit emotional. We can try discussing this at a later date,” she said, oddly professional, like the table was in one of her board meetings. 

She stood and then paused at the side of the table near Henry. “If you’ll excuse me. I’m going to call Amy now.”

Then she retrieved her handbag and walked to the front door, a dramatic exit if Alex had ever seen one.

Philip apologized on behalf of the entire family and Bea called him her future brother-in-law before they left to follow after her and return to the mansion. They also officially invited him to London next time Henry returned.

Nora headed out only after telling him and Henry how proud she was for standing up to the old hag, and his dad squeezed them both tight on his way out. 

When it was just the two of them, Henry seemed lost, standing in the large open space between the kitchen area and the dining table, like he wouldn’t be surprised if Alex walked right out the door after his dad. David, who had gone missing since Mary arrived, came out of hiding and looked a little lost too.

As traumatic as the entire evening had been for him, he knew it was even more so for Henry, and Alex knew exactly what he needed, what they both needed.

He pulled him into his arms and then they held each other, Alex’s arms tight around Henry’s waist and Henry’s over his shoulders. The only sounds were their breaths of relief that synchronized and the soft patter of David’s paws as he nosed around their legs. 

Alex hated to break the serene quiet that fell over them, but there was something he had to say.

“Henry, I love you, but your grandmother is a monster.”

Henry’s laugh vibrated against his neck and it felt so sweet. He placed a kiss there before he raised his head, and Alex could see the love reflected back at him. It was clear as day, and something he too had felt for a while now, maybe since Henry sang karaoke  or perhaps after the first short story he let Alex read or from the very first time their paths crossed.

“I can’t even begin to express how sorry I am for the way she treated you and your father. She has been awful to you for months and I terribly regret not stepping up to protect you from the very beginning. She is finally going back to London next week and you will never have to see her again.”

“I love you,” Alex said again because that sounded amazing and just in case Henry missed that part the first time.

He smiled, a sad thing tempered by his glossy eyes. “I love you, too. But…do you love me enough to stay despite her?”

He noticed that Henry had nearly uttered those three words a few times before, but he always stopped himself at the last second. That single question was the answer to why he’d hesitated, and it was the same reason Alex hadn't said the words either. But after tonight, Alex was all in. He knew that Henry was more than worth it.

“I dooo,” Alex dragged out the word playfully as he leaned in to kiss him, but he pulled away quickly with a smack, leaving Henry with puckered lips. “Speaking of, was that your way of proposing to me earlier?”

Henry looked down for a moment before he shook his head bashfully. “You deserve a romantic proposal out of a movie. Even my grandmother would throttle me if I didn’t make it a big event. God forbid, the actual wedding. You don’t know how much of a monster she can be, Alex.”

Being married to Henry one day was everything he wanted. Maybe they’d have a wedding where they met, on the beach of LA, or maybe in London, the place that created Henry, or maybe they could go to Austin, the place that he would always call home. His dad would be his best man, Pez as Henry’s, the twins as the cutest ring bearers, spots reserved for their mothers and his abuela in the first row and there wouldn’t be a dull moment with Nora as their officiant. He really hoped that Mary would change and be the grandmother Henry deserved. But the thought of her being anywhere near the wedding planning sounded like a living nightmare, so there were other options.

“Maybe we can elope,” he offered. “I already have my vows outlined in my head, and I will definitely mention how I made you tongue tied the first time you spoke to me. I never would’ve guessed you were a writer.”

“I beg you not to make me relive that,” Henry pouted.

“Or perhaps I’ll tell the story of how you accused me of abducting David.”

Henry’s hands tugged playfully at the curls at the nape of his neck before they turned gentle, and Alex reminded himself to keep putting off that barbershop appointment.

“That one I will allow. False accusations aside,” Henry said, smiling, “It’s a good story.”

Alex returned the smile, knowing that they would write many more just like it.

“I do have to clarify something, love,” Henry stopped him just as he went in to kiss him again.

“Hm?”

“Was the hot sauce a true accident?”

Alex leaned back from where he nuzzled against Henry’s jaw. He could see the mirth evident in his expression, and he realized that there wasn’t a wrong answer here, whether affirmative or declinatory.

“Well, you see, the Fifth Amendment to the U.S. Constitution declares that no person shall be compelled in any criminal case to-“

Henry shut him up with a kiss.