Chapter Text
Henry wakes up slowly with the morning light on his face. It’s a gentle process, no unwelcome alarms with vicious claws dragging him to reality, but rather a fog lifting from his brain, the smell of sugar and cinnamon, a soft touch on the skin of his temple.
He blinks his eyes open lazily, unhurriedly, and meets a soft smile and a pair of chocolate brown eyes a few inches away from his. He feels more than sees Alex’s knuckles on his cheekbones and brushing over his temples.
“Hi,” he greets, voice muffled on the pillow.
“Morning,” Alex says with that soft yet radiant smile. “How are you feeling?”
“Shouldn’t I be asking you that?” Henry retorts, still sleepy. He runs his hand up and down Alex’s spine because he can’t help himself. “Are you feeling better?”
“Yeah. Guess I just needed to sleep.” Alex swallows and looks away, his hand trailing up Henry’s hairline. “Thank you, for last night. And making sure I was okay.”
Henry’s heart clenches in his chest. “Alex, I’m always going to make sure you’re okay,” he whispers, brushing his fingers lightly over the nape of Alex’s neck. A shudder runs through his body. “I’m glad you’re feeling better.”
Alex smiles. “Nothing ten hours of sleep and half a cup of coffee can’t fix. Made you tea too,” he says, nodding towards the nightstand.
Henry looks over to see two steaming mugs, smelling like coffee and Earl Grey. “Have you been up long?” he asks, looking back at Alex.
“Just a few minutes. Didn’t want to wake you.” Alex thumbs over the skin of his temple for a moment before pulling away and sitting up against the headboard, taking all the warmth with him. Henry bites his tongue to keep himself from making a noise of protest.
Instead, he sits up against the headboard next to Alex and accepts the mug of tea with a soft “thank you,” blowing on it before taking a sip. Perfect, as Alex always makes it. He looks over, watching as Alex smiles to himself and brings his own cup to his lips.
Henry hadn’t realised how worried he had been that this new... arrangement they had could make things weird between them. He can’t risk that; it isn’t worth losing Alex over.
But Alex glances at him with the same teasing glint in his eyes he always has and launches into a rant over the latest drama with his least favorite professor; he still rushes to get ready and make it to class in time, throwing his bag over his shoulder as he walks out the door and gifts Henry with one of his carefree grins, like nothing has changed between them.
Maybe it’s okay, then. Maybe he can have this, and it won’t ruin everything.
It starts with a charger.
The first time Henry notices it, he’s just getting ready for bed when he sees Alex’s phone charger plugged next to his desk. He pauses for a moment. That’s new.
“You left your charger here,” he says when Alex steps into the room a few minutes later, already in his pajamas and running a hand through his curls.
“Oh, yeah, thanks for reminding me,” Alex replies as he crosses the room to plug his phone. “I usually charge my phone at night, so I thought it’d make sense.”
Because he sleeps here every night, Henry's brain supplies unhelpfully, which doesn’t make his heart beat any slower. “Yeah, that makes sense,” he says softly.
Alex smiles at him over his shoulder and crawls into bed, pulling the covers up to his chin with a quiet groan. It makes Henry smile to himself, even as his eyes keep drifting back to the other side of the room.
A moment later, Alex pokes his shoulder. “Stop it.”
Henry turns to him, confused. “Stop what?”
“Overthinking whatever it is you’re overthinking,” Alex says into the mattress, throwing an arm over Henry’s chest. “Just sleep; God knows you need it.”
Henry snorts quietly, even as Alex’s hand on his skin makes it difficult for him to think. “You sleep.”
“I will, when you let me.” Henry can practically hear the smile in his voice. It’s the last thing he remembers before falling asleep.
—
Then it’s a textbook, or a pile of them.
Henry sees them when he’s looking for his own textbooks and almost takes Alex’s by mistake.
They’re sitting on his desk, the words ‘Public Law’ at the top, papers tucked between the pages covered in Alex’s messy handwriting. Why they’re in Henry’s room instead of Alex’s, he has no idea.
He mentions it later that day. “You left some textbooks on my desk yesterday.”
Alex looks up from his seat on the couch, phone in hand and sipping on his third cup of coffee of the day. “Right, I have a vague memory of that.”
Henry suppresses a laugh. “Any particular reason for that?”
“I was studying,” Alex says, like it’s obvious. “Your room gets more sunlight in the afternoon, and you weren’t home yet, so I just stayed there. And it’s cozier than mine.” He bites his lip and shifts slightly on the couch. “Is that okay?”
Everything you do is okay. Henry bites the inside of his cheek to keep the words inside. “Yeah,” he says instead. “It’s okay.”
Alex smiles, a slow but wide thing before turning his attention back to his phone. Henry almost misses the soft “thanks” he murmurs, and it sets his stomach in knots.
The next day, Alex’s textbooks are still on his desk. Henry stares at them for a full minute before turning to look at his shelf on the opposite wall, the empty space next to his edition of Oscar Wilde’s complete works.
He takes the books and places them there, organizing them alphabetically.
There’s no need to overthink this. Really.
—
“H, have you seen my laptop?”
Alex’s voice echoes through the walls of the apartment.
“Hang on, Pez,” Henry says to the phone next to his ear before putting his mug down and covering the speaker. “It’s in my room!”
There’s a pause, then footsteps. Alex’s head peeks out in the kitchen doorway a few moments later with a frown. “Why is my laptop in your room?”
Henry stares at him. “Because last night you insisted on working on that paper for Immigration Law – even though it isn’t due for another two weeks – in bed and I had to rip it out of your hands so you could at least get some sleep. I put it in the second drawer of my desk,” he adds patiently.
Alex blinks at him. “That... yeah, that checks out. Thank you!” and he disappears back into the hallway, presumably going to retrieve his laptop.
Henry sighs at the memory of the night before; Alex’s gaze fixed on the screen and fingers flying over the keyboard, glasses perched on his nose that made Henry feel things; Henry closing his laptop after ten minutes of trying to coax him to sleep and Alex’s indignant expression; how that expression morphed into one of quiet compliance when Henry brushed his fingers over his curls; how he sank into Henry’s chest with a long exhale, his nose dragging along Henry’s collarbone—
“Haz?”
Henry almost jumps out of his skin at the sound of Pez’s voice through the speakers of his phone.
He brings the phone up to his ear again and the cup of Earl Grey to his lips. “Hi, sorry about that. You were saying?”
“You got anything to tell me?” Pez asks, an audible smirk in his voice.
Henry’s heart climbs up to his throat and he chuckles, but it doesn’t even sound convincing to his own ears. “No. Truly, there’s... there’s nothing to say.”
Pez is silent for a long time. When he speaks again, he no longer sounds teasing. “Henry... what are you doing?”
He swallows. He doesn’t really have an answer for that.
—
When Alex starts leaving his clothes in Henry’s room, it’s barely noticeable. First, it’s his pajamas under the pillow, which makes sense since he sleeps there every night; then, it’s a hoodie on the back of the chair, probably forgotten after a long day. There’s the occasional t-shirt at the foot of the bed, too, but it’s rare and not enough for Henry to think much about it. The clothes are there, but it’s subtle.
That is, until it’s not.
Henry is in his room on a Wednesday evening, rummaging through his drawers in search of his journal when Alex barges in, phone pressed to his ear. “Just— hold your fucking horses, Nora, I’m going.”
Henry is used to Alex entering his room unannounced by now, but he’s a lot less used to Alex only sparing him a glance and a smile in acknowledgement before going straight to the wardrobe, pressing his phone between his ear and shoulder to free his hands.
Confused but mildly amused, Henry watches as he opens the wardrobe and stares at the inside for a while before taking out a blue button-down shirt and a deep green satin one, balancing a hanger in each hand. Henry is about to ask what the hell Alex is doing with his shirts when he takes a closer look at the clothes in question.
Those aren’t his.
They’re Alex’s shirts. That had been just in Henry’s wardrobe. Just... sitting there, like they belong. It makes Henry’s head spin.
Alex turns around to face Henry and holds up his hands. He mouths ‘which one?’, and it takes a moment of effort for Henry to move at all. He silently points to the dark green one – he knows for a fact it goes perfectly with Alex’s eyes.
Alex grins and places the blue button-down on the wardrobe again, mouthing a ‘thank you’ in Henry’s direction and picking up the phone again. “Got it. I’m sure. Yes, Henry approved it. I’m honestly offended that you don’t trust my sense of fashion.” He pauses for a moment, listening intently to his phone before letting out a snort. “You’re a jackass. Love you too, bye.”
Henry waits a moment to speak after he hangs up the phone. “Should I even ask?”
Alex smirks at him. “You know you want to.”
“What was that about?” Henry asks with a sigh as he bites back a smile of his own.
“There’s a party this weekend, apparently, and Nora is refusing to be seen with me unless I ‘dress up’.” He narrows his eyes at the green item of clothing in his hand. “Not sure if this counts, but she can fucking deal with it.”
Henry raises his eyebrows at him and purses his lips. “Well… it’s better than your usual jeans and plain t-shirt attire.”
Alex scoffs. “What is with all the sudden insults to my clothes? I swear to God, I bought two black t-shirts and now it’s all—”
“Speaking of which,” Henry interrupts loudly, effectively cutting Alex off. He ignores the glare with no real heat it earns him. “Why are your shirts in my room? And in my wardrobe?”
Alex’s brow furrows, like he’s genuinely confused by the question. “It’s bigger than mine. And it had a lot of free space, and I’m here most of the time anyway, so I thought it made sense.” He smirks again, a devilish glint in his eyes. “Plus, it’s a fantastic way to brighten it up, sweetheart, don’t even try to deny it.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Henry says after a moment, still trying to reboot his brain. “That’s… yeah.” It doesn’t feel like it’s working.
“Anyway.” Alex’s voice pulls him from his thoughts, and Henry focuses back to watch him walk backwards towards the door. “Can we get takeout for dinner?”
“Alex, we got takeout two days ago,” he says, trying to be the voice of reason.
Alex’s lower lip juts out and he makes his best puppy dog eyes. “Pleeease, Hen? I’ve been craving pizza all day.”
Henry hesitates, but he already knows his answer; he can never say no to Alex (it’s seriously becoming a problem).
He sighs but has to stop a smile from spreading across his face. “You truly are a menace to society.”
Alex just shows him a cheeky grin as he walks out of the room. “Come on, Fox, you know you love me.”
But you don’t, Henry thinks firmly. If it brings him any sorrow or relief, he’s still not sure.
Now alone again, he looks at his surroundings: there are traces of Alex everywhere in his room. The charger, still plugged in next to Henry’s desk; the growing number of papers and law school textbooks on the third shelf; the laptop in the second drawer of Henry’s desk; a book on the bedside table, and a watch, and crooked glasses; Alex’s clothes on Henry’s bed, on the back of his chair, hung up in his wardrobe next to his own sweaters like they’ve always been there.
It feels like a reality Henry has only visited in dreams. To anyone else it might look messy, but all Henry sees is a home. He’s still not sure he isn’t dreaming.
“You sure you don’t wanna come tonight?”
Henry looks up from his laptop to where Alex is standing in the doorway, halfway through putting his shoes on.
He pulls one of his earbuds off. “Am I sure I don’t want to go to a party full of drunk people I don’t know when I can simply stay home with tea and a blanket and watch a soothing British baking contest?” He makes a show of thinking hard about it, and Alex snorts. “Yes, I believe I am sure.”
Alex, predictably, rolls his eyes, but the effect is dampened by the grin tugging at his lips. “You know me. And since Liam is the one hosting the party, I’m pretty sure Pez is gonna be there too.”
“Believe me when I say I do not want to be alone with those two,” Henry retorts with a grimace.
Alex laughs. “Yeah, that's probably wise. Still.”
Henry drops the sarcasm and lets a small smile stretch on his lips. “Still, I’m sure. But thank you.”
Alex relents. “Okay then.” He grabs his keys and heads towards the front door. “Call me if you need anything.”
“You too. Make good choices!”
“When have I ever?!”
Alex’s laughing voice echoes in Henry’s ears long after the door closes behind him. He puts his earbud in again and turns back to Bake Off's soft pastel colours.
It’s hours later when he finally decides to get ready for bed, having finished a second cup of tea. Alex hasn’t come back yet, but the couch is getting uncomfortable for Henry’s back, so he sits up slowly and stretches with a groan.
He knows there’s no way he’s going to fall asleep soon; after weeks of Alex’s warm body next to him, a cold, empty bed isn’t very appealing. Maybe he can read for a bit in bed and wait either for Alex or for his eyes to close on their own.
In the end, he doesn’t even have to do that. He’s just finishing brushing his teeth when he hears the front door open, followed by giggles and hushed whispers.
“If you don’t stop talking, you're gonna wake Henry up,” says June’s voice.
“If you don’t stop shushing me, you’re gonna wake the whole building up,” Alex snaps back, but there’s an audible grin to his slightly slurred voice. “Besides, Henry’s not asleep yet.”
“And you know that because?” a third voice asks, most probably Nora’s.
Henry chooses that moment to approach the trio in the doorway. “Yes, Alex, how do you know your roommate isn’t asleep yet?”
Alex turns to him with a wide, lopsided grin on his face, immediately planting himself in front of Henry and leaning into him. He’s close – too close; Henry can count the freckles on his nose. He hopes the hitch in his breath just now wasn’t audible.
“I know you better than you know yourself, sweetheart,” Alex whispers, voice soft – too soft. Henry wraps an arm around his shoulder because he keeps swaying and Henry doesn’t want him to fall on the floor.
“You were lucky,” June intervenes, her cheeks pink from alcohol as she glances apologetically at Henry. “I swear he didn’t even drink that much, he just keeps grinning like an idiot.”
It’s true, he does, but Henry is kind of obsessed with it. “I take it the party was good, then?”
The three of them shrug, a chorus of “It was nice” and “Could’ve had a better playlist, but not bad.”
Through June and Nora’s voice, Henry swears he can hear Alex murmur “Would’ve been better with you there” under his breath, but he’s probably imagining things. He must be.
“Anyway,” June says after a while. “We have a cab waiting outside, we just came in to make sure he’d be fine and could make his way to bed without waking you up.”
“Unnecessary, as already proven,” Alex says against Henry’s shoulder, but his tone is as fond as his smile.
June sticks her tongue at him, but the effect is dampened by the soft smile that appears on her face afterwards.
“I’ll take care of him,” Henry says softly, looking at her. His gaze drops to Nora’s arm, wrapping itself around June’s waist to pull her close. “You two go home, really. I can take it from here.”
June seems like she wants to say something more, but all that leaves her mouth is a shaky exhale as Nora kisses her shoulder. “Thanks, man. Call us if he starts being a little shit again.”
“Hey!” Alex gaps, offended, lifting his head from where it was resting on Henry’s shoulder. Henry snickers quietly, and the girls close the front door on their way out.
When he looks down at Alex again, his expression is soft once more, still too close and intoxicating, but Henry doesn’t mind.
“You,” he says, brushing his fingers through Alex’s curls, “need to drink water.”
Alex just keeps smiling up at him. “You’re pretty.”
Henry blushes furiously, and shakes his head in a futile attempt to stop it. “You’re drunk.”
“Yeah, but.” Alex touches his fingertips to Henry’s jaw, and Henry feels his whole face burning up. “You’re so pretty. Like, your eyes are so blue—”
“Seriously, you need water. Now.”
Alex grins but relents, letting himself be dragged towards the kitchen and dutifully drinking the two glasses of cold water Henry presses into his hand. He’s leaning heavily on Henry, but it seems more like tiredness than anything else, so he doesn’t worry.
He leads Alex to the bathroom next so he can brush his teeth – “trust me, you’ll thank me in the morning” – and then to his room. He hands him his pajamas and pointily focuses his gaze on Alex’s curls, lest it drop to his bare chest – that would not go well.
Finally, Alex stands in front of him dressed in his pajamas and climbs into bed, pulling Henry after him by the hand. He tucks himself firmly under Henry’s chin and throws a leg over his hips, pressing so close there isn’t an inch of space left between them. Then he sighs, a long exhale as Henry tangles his finger in his curls again. “Thanks for looking after me,” he murmurs, voice muffled against Henry’s chest.
Henry smiles, gently massaging his scalp. “My pleasure,” he says, and maybe means it a little more than he should. “You should sleep now.”
Alex makes a soft noise in agreement, burying himself impossibly closer and falling quiet. Henry closes his eyes, a small smile playing on his face as he prepares himself for a gentle sleep.
“We gotta stop doing this,” Alex mumbles sleepily a few minutes later. Henry’s eyes shoot open and he stills, every inch of his body freezing instantly. “Like this, anyway. Pretending. It’s not really working anymore. You feel it too, right?”
No, Henry wants to scream. It’s not enough, but if it’s all I can have with you then I’ll take every bit of it.
Ice runs through his veins, his throat closes and, impossibly, he thinks he might cry. All the calm and peace of the night slips away like a rug pulled under his feet, leaving him almost scared and unsure of what the hell to do next.
He’s confused and tired and angry at himself for the tears that prickle the corner of his eyes. He opens his mouth – to say what, exactly, he’s not sure yet – but a soft snore reaches his ears before he can make any sound. Alex is asleep; he’ll have to wait for tomorrow to talk.
For the first time in weeks, it takes hours for Henry to fall asleep.
Christ, he had almost forgotten how it felt to wake up after a night of barely any sleep.
Henry gains consciousness slowly, feeling the morning light against his eyelids but refusing to open his eyes. If Alex has already gotten up, he prefers to pretend for a little longer, pretend that he didn’t hear what he heard last night—
A low grumbling noise reaches his ear, somewhere to his left, and he stills. Something soft tickles his chin. Alex hasn’t left, then.
“Morning, sweetheart,” Alex says sleepily into Henry’s shoulder. “Fuck, I’m hungover.”
Henry is unsure of how to proceed. “I can get you some aspirin, if you want.”
“No, don’t move,” Alex protests immediately, tightening his arm around Henry’s torso. “You’re comfortable.”
Henry doesn’t say anything, doesn’t dare move a muscle. He knew the risk he was taking the first time he allowed himself to fall asleep next to Alex, but now that the consequences of his actions are shoved in his face, he isn’t sure he should’ve.
Alex pokes his ribs lightly, not enough to tickle him but enough for him to feel.
“I can hear your brain working,” he murmurs. “It’s too early for that. What’s up?”
Henry hesitates for a second, but he can’t really pretend anymore. “You said something last night.”
Alex groans, warm breath hitting the side of Henry’s neck. “Oh God, did I make a huge fool of myself?”
“No more than usual,” Henry tries to joke, but it falls flat. He clears his throat. “No, it was right before you fell asleep. You said we shouldn’t keep doing this. Something about… pretending?” He poses it as a question, but Alex’s words are still ringing in his ears.
Alex pauses, then slowly lifts his head to rest his chin on Henry’s chest. “Yeah?” There’s a tentative edge to his voice. “And… what do you think of that?”
Henry swallows. “I think if it’s not working for you anymore, then you should do what makes you happy.” His brain is screaming, and his heart is beating way too fast for it to be normal or healthy, but he manages to get the words out.
The corners of Alex’s lips tug up. “Yeah?”
I only ever wanted you to be happy. “Yeah,” he whispers, forcing his voice to remain steady.
The smile on Alex’s mouth widens, and Henry doesn’t understand it. Then Alex sits up slowly and Henry mirrors his movements, leaning back against the headboard. He waits for Alex to leave his room, or say something, do anything. But Alex doesn’t leave, doesn’t talk, doesn’t move; he just keeps fucking smiling. It doesn’t make Henry any less disoriented.
“What did you mean… when you said it?” He needs to know. Even if it breaks his heart into a thousand pieces, he needs to know.
Confusion clouds Alex’s eyes for a moment, but the soft grin on his face doesn’t falter. “I’d actually rather show you, if that’s alright with you.”
Henry is getting more and more confused by the minute, but he nods anyway, unable to help himself when Alex keeps looking at him like that. Then Alex is straddling his lap, knees resting on the mattress on either side of his hips, and all the air rushes out of Henry’s lungs. He can’t breathe, he can’t think, he can barely fucking blink.
Alex’s open palms touch his cheeks, gently cupping his face like it’s such a delicate thing. “I’m gonna need your verbal consent, sweetheart,” he says in a whisper, and Henry can barely keep himself from laughing hysterically.
“Please,” he begs in a whisper. Alex smiles like he’s won the lottery, and he leans down just as Henry’s eyes slip shut and his mind pushes all thoughts aside.
Alex tastes like morning coffee and cinnamon and a cup of Earl Grey on a cold winter day. He tastes like the whole-hearted laughs Henry drags out of him and the smug smirks that make Henry want to kiss it away. He tastes like the way they curl up at night under a weighted blanket, like sleep-mussed hair in the morning and soft smiles in the evening, like the way Henry’s heart beats faster every time.
He tastes like a promise Henry desperately wants to cling to.
Henry’s hands move on their own; one moment they’re hanging limp at his side and the other they’re resting on Alex’s hips, gently tightening his grip when Alex sighs into his mouth. He leans into the kiss, keeping it languid and almost lazy with a hint of desperation, and Alex sighs again, pushing his hands up to drag the tips of his fingers through Henry’s hair.
When Alex pulls back slowly after what is too little time, Henry can’t help but chase after him, meeting his lips again with a pleased sound from Alex’s throat and wrapping his arms around his waist, holding him there. Alex indulges him for a while before breaking the kiss again, resting their foreheads together.
Henry simply breathes, unsteady, keeping his eyes closed.
“Forgive my obvious mistake,” he says after a few moments with an audible shake to his voice. “But I was under the impression you were straight.”
Alex laughs whole-heartedly, quick and startled. “Yeah, I was too, for a while. Not really, though.”
“I thought… I thought you were saying you don’t want this anymore, not…” he can’t bring himself to finish the sentence, pressing his lips together as if it’ll make the thought go away.
“Hey.” Alex’s gentle tone and soft knuckles on his cheek make him open his eyes again to meet an even softer smile. “I wasn’t. There’s no way in hell I could ever.”
Henry doesn’t say anything, because none of this feels real.
Alex leans down to bring their lips together once more and Henry sinks into it again, opening under Alex’s mouth and seeking the warmth of him before he breaks the kiss with an ache in his heart.
He circles Alex’s wrists, still on each side of his face. “Alex, I… I can’t.”
Alex freezes on top of him, the grip of his hands loosening drastically. “What?” His voice is so small it pierces right through Henry’s heart.
“I can’t do this if this is all there is. I can’t fall asleep next to you and kiss you like it’s— I can’t—” he stops to take a deep breath when his voice threatens to break. “Please. I can’t do a one-time thing. I can’t do casual. Not with you.”
He closes his eyes again – he has to. He can’t stand to look at Alex’s face if all he’ll find is disappointment or annoyance or worse, acceptance; he can’t watch him walk away if that’s what he chooses to do, or shrug in indifference like this means nothing—
“Baby.” Alex’s choked up voice stops his line of thought, soft fingers tilting his chin up gently. “Hen, can you look at me? Please?”
With a shaky exhale, Henry opens his eyes to find brown ones looking down at him carefully. Alex’s fingertips brush over his jaw and up to cup his cheeks again, and Henry is still holding onto his wrists, afraid of what will happen if he lets go.
“This was never a one-time thing for me," Alex says, his eyes never leaving Henry’s. “This, you, us – it’s real, baby. It’s not casual. That’s what I couldn’t keep pretending.” He strokes his thumbs on Henry’s skin soothingly, touches their noses together. “I’m not planning to let go of you.”
“Alex, I’ve loved you for years,” Henry whispers finally, irrevocably. He needs Alex to understand it; that this is it for him, that he can’t do this halfway, not without giving all of himself to Alex, handing him his heart on a silver platter for him to do as he wishes.
Alex blinks for a moment, and just as Henry thinks he ruined everything a slow but wide smile stretches on his face, bigger than the sun and the moon and all the fucking stars, bright enough to blind Henry’s entire world.
“Yeah?” He takes Henry’s heart in gentle palms with all the care in the world, and Henry loves him stupidly, impossibly. “Show me, baby.”
Oh. That’s— he can do that.
He smiles, slowly, and turns his head to kiss the inside of his forearm. He loosens his grip on Alex’s wrists slowly, dragging his fingers up his arms and to his shoulders, feeling the shudder that passes through his body. Henry touches the nape of his neck and travels down, hands huge on Alex’s back to hold him close.
He tilts his head up and presses his lips to Alex’s again, a sweet, feather-like touch to contrast with the gentle nip of teeth to his lower lip. He delights in Alex’s gasp and the way his fingers tighten on his jaw before burying in his hair again, deep in the strands of blond at the base of his skull.
Henry pulls away from his mouth to bring his lips along Alex’s jawline, traveling up with barely there kisses and biting down softly on the skin behind his ear. Alex makes a noise at the back of his throat, a mix of breathless laugh and curse words in Spanish, and Henry drags his teeth over the same patch of skin just to hear it again.
“Hen, oh my god,” Alex exhales as Henry lowers one of his hands and slips it under Alex’s shirt slowly, meeting warm and impossibly soft skin.
He stills immediately. “Is this okay?” he whispers into the underside of Alex’s jaw, unmoving.
“Yes,” Alex answers quickly, more breath than actual words. His eagerness sends a thrill up Henry’s body.
Reassured, he rests his open palm on the small of Alex’s back and pulls him closer until his chests are touching, his thumb brushing over the end of his spine. Alex shivers, and Henry smiles to himself.
His free hand comes up to cup Alex’s face, halfway through cradling his jaw and holding the side of his neck. He can feel Alex’s heart beat in tandem with his own, but it’s not fear anymore; it’s not a secret heartache. It’s a revelation now, a proof of how much they both want this, want each other, heat running through their veins.
When Henry’s lips touch Alex’s pulse point, it’s like he stops breathing, breath caught somewhere in his throat. It only takes two more kisses to the column of his throat for something inside Alex to snap.
He makes a sound deep in his chest, suspiciously close to a whine but lower, like it’s coming from his gut, and pulls Henry’s head back from his neck to press their mouths together again.
Henry surrenders to the kiss, making it soft and sweet because Alex deserves it all; he deserves hot and fast and urgent, balanced with slow and deep and gentle, biting kisses to the skin at the base of his throat and absentminded pecks to the tip of his nose. He deserves everything and more, and Henry is ready to give it to him.
Words spill from Alex’s mouth in between kisses and gasps, absolute music to Henry’s ears; “I’ve been falling for you for months” and “I’m sorry it took me so long to realize it” and “I love you, I love you, I love you.”
It makes something in Henry… not break, exactly, but melt into a pile of goo, soften around the edges.
He pulls back, panting, and rests their foreheads together. “Say it again.”
“Say what?” Henry can almost see the dazed look in his eyes.
He drags his nose along Alex’s cheek. “Say it again, love. Please?”
“Oh.” Soft fingers tilt his chin up to make him meet a wide grin and a deep blush on crinkled skin. “I love you. God, Henry, I love you so fucking much it makes me stupid.”
With a hand on Alex’s lower back and another between his shoulder blades, Henry flips them over so Alex is lying on his back under him, curls spread all over the white pillows and dark brown eyes shining up at him.
Alex gasps, startled, and grins up at him. “Fucking show off.”
Henry can’t stop smiling. “I love you.”
Alex’s grin widens. “You said that already,” he teases, bringing his arms up and around Henry’s neck.
“Mind if I keep saying it?”
Alex’s eyes soften, and Henry can’t believe he gets to have this. “Not at all, baby.”
When Henry leans down to kiss him again, it’s chaste, a feather-like touch and steady exhales of breath. Alex’s lips are soft and pliant beneath his own, like Henry is something precious, and Henry would give up the world for him.
“So,” Alex says minutes later, playing with Henry’s hair as he rests his head on Alex’s shoulder. “I’m not going back to my room. Ever, if that’s okay with you.”
Henry grins and doesn’t bother trying to hide it, tracing random patterns on Alex’s chest. “I think I’d be amenable to that.”
Alex laughs and kisses his hair. “Good. Because I’m not leaving.”
Henry believes him.
That day, Henry’s room becomes Henry and Alex’s room, and Alex’s previous one turns into a guest room.
That day, Alex asks Henry to be his boyfriend – or rather, announces that they are now boyfriends – and Henry can’t stop smiling.
That night, they fall asleep together in their room, tangled up in each other so there’s no way of knowing when Henry ends and Alex begins.
That night, Henry smiles and presses a kiss to the top of his boyfriend’s head. “Good night, love,” he whispers, and falls into another peaceful sleep with Alex’s skin on his. It’s not the first time, but it feels like a whole new beginning.