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“Stop, stop, H please stop.”
Henry stills at the first ‘stop.’
Alex can’t think, can’t move, can barely see through the tears blurring his eyes. He doesn’t want to stop. He wants Henry to kiss him again and he wants to enjoy it, but he can’t stand the feeling of soft hands holding his waist, or the warm breath washing over his neck, or the linen sheets under him that feel like a thousand needles piercing his back. He’s held on this long, maybe just a little more and it’ll be over.
He just wants to be good. He just wants to enjoy this. He has to stop. He needs to stop.
“Darling?” Henry says quietly, moving back to kneel on the bed, and it snaps Alex out of his head.
He jumps off the mattress, desperate to put as much distance between himself and the bed as possible. The room is a blurry vision around him and he can’t even make sense of the shapes of the clothes scattered around the floor. When he tries to stand his knees give out under him. He lands on the floor and pulls his knees up to his chest, the carpet soft under his naked limbs, and he tries to take a steady breath that doesn’t make him feel like his lungs are on fire.
It doesn’t work. Nothing is working. Alex feels hot tears landing on his knees, panic spiking in his chest when every breath gets harder and harder, and through the curtain of tears blurring his vision he can make out the shape of Henry falling to his knees in front of him, his blue eyes wide and alert and scared.
Alex doesn’t want to scare him. He doesn’t want Henry to be worried, he just wanted to be good.
Henry raises his hand, an inch away from Alex’s skin. “Can I hold you?”
He sounds so earnest, so sincere, and Alex hates himself for how fast he shakes his head. “No, no, I can’t,” he chokes out, though he doubts Henry can understand him through the strain in his voice.
He doesn’t think he could handle Henry touching him right now. Normally he’d want nothing more than Henry’s arms around him, holding Alex to his chest, gentle fingers stroking his hair, but he thinks that if something touched him right now, he might scream.
Henry doesn’t try to touch him, though, immediately taking his hand away. He starts counting instead, one, two, three, four and back again, and Alex doesn’t understand for a moment before realizing Henry is counting his breaths for him, never once faltering.
Alex takes a shuddering breath, and it does nothing. He inhales again, shaky and painful, and his lungs cry out with every attempt. He digs his nails into his palms until it hurts, until it distracts him from the invisible pain in his chest and in his head, and when that isn’t enough Alex pulls his hair at the roots until his scalp protests over and over again. He doesn’t know what to do. He just wants it to end.
Something warm touches his arm, and Alex almost jumps out of his skin.
It’s Henry, closing his fingers around his wrists, carefully pulling Alex’s hands away from his hair. Alex’s skin burns in every place of contact, jerking his arms involuntarily, but Henry’s grip is relentless.
“I’m sorry,” Henry says quietly. He squeezes Alex’s hands and lets go, immediately moving back again, and Alex hates it and loves him in equal parts. “I’m sorry, I won’t touch you. Just please don’t hurt yourself, love.”
Alex is stunned into silence for a moment. Then he grips his knees and nods once, feeling a few more tears escape his eyes, and Henry looks relieved.
Faintly, Alex realizes his breathing isn’t quite as heavy anymore.
He keeps hugging his knees as Henry moves around the room. The lights go out, and Alex exhales shakily; he didn’t even realize how much they were making his head ache. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Henry sitting on the floor in front of him, keeping his distance. Alex wants nothing more than to fall into his arms, but the mere thought of it has anxiety buzzing in his skin, and he fights the urge to pull at his hair again.
Henry is watching him. Alex can feel his eyes at the top of his head. Something enters his line of vision, and he looks up to find Henry holding out a pillow, a soft, worried look in his eyes.
Alex curls his fingers in the fabric and hugs the pillow to his chest. It’s soft. It doesn’t make him feel like clawing out of his skin. Alex hugs it tighter and tears spring to his eyes, wishing he could just reach out for his boyfriend.
“Can I be alone, please?”
He has to clear his throat a few times before getting the words out. Alex’s voice is so quiet he has no idea if Henry can hear him.
Henry visibly hesitates. “I…” He pauses, choosing his words carefully. “I’d rather not, Alex. I don’t feel good leaving you alone right now, not when you are so worked up. I can stay over here, completely quiet, but I’d like to stay in the room in case you need anything. If that’s alright with you.”
Alex closes his eyes and nods into his knees, feeling a few more tears escape. Somehow, his heart settles. Breathing turns a little easier. His ears don’t ring so much.
Time passes, yet Alex has no idea how much. He keeps breathing, hugging the pillow to his chest. Henry stays quiet, giving Alex physical and emotional space, simply existing next to him. Alex loves him so much for it.
It feels like years before he unclenches his stiff muscles. First his fingers, releasing the tight grasp on his knees, then his shoulders, rolling them back slowly. He looks up to meet Henry’s eyes, kind and worried ocean blue in the barely lit room. And now, when Alex thinks of reaching out to touch, it doesn’t make him panic.
“Can you come sit next to me?” he asks in a whisper.
Surprise flashes in Henry’s eyes, but he’s moving in a second. He crosses the space between them to sit next to Alex, still keeping some distance between them but never looking away, and Alex feels his heart flutter.
He nudges his shoulder against Henry’s, then slides his palm into Henry’s hand. Warm, smooth skin. Henry laces their fingers together loosely and Alex squeezes, feeling that familiar comfort sweep over him at his boyfriend’s touch.
He meets Henry’s eyes again. “I think I’m ready for a hug now,” he says quietly. “Hold me?”
Henry exhales a steady breath, and his arms are around Alex in a second; it’s so good, such perfect relief that Alex feels lighter than air. He melts into Henry’s chest as he’s wrapped in a tight hug, nuzzles softly at Henry’s neck, and when he lays a lingering kiss at the top of Alex’s head it feels like everything is right in the world.
“Did I hurt you?”
Alex looks up, startled. His stomach twists when he finds Henry watching him hesitantly and biting his lip.
“Baby, no,” Alex hurries to say, cupping Henry’s face in his palm. “You did nothing wrong, H. I just...” He swallows, flicking his gaze over Henry’s face. “I got overwhelmed. I freaked out and needed to stop. But it was nothing you did, Hen, I swear.”
Still watching him carefully, Henry nods slowly. His shoulders relax a little. He tips their foreheads together. “I’m worried you waited to stop me. That you were hurting yourself and that I... that I was hurting you too. Even without knowing.”
Alex pauses. “I didn’t want to ruin our night,” he whispers, and a shadow passes over Henry’s face as he closes his eyes. “I thought I could handle it, but it was just... a lot. When it got too much, I stopped. I promise.”
Henry holds him tighter. “Never wait again,” he says, and his tone leaves no room for debate. “The moment something is wrong, no matter how small it may seem, you tell me, Alex. You don’t wait. You tell me, and we stop.”
“I’m sorry,” Alex murmurs, guilt twisting in his gut. “I won’t do it again.”
Henry breathes in and out slowly, tucking a curl behind Alex’s ear. “Good.” He smiles a little, tilts his head to kiss Alex’s forehead. “What do you need now, love?”
Alex thinks it over for a moment. He leans forward and slots their lips together so softly, a barely there kiss. It’s gentle and reverent and perfect, everything Henry always is, and Henry kisses back so tenderly it doesn’t feel real.
Alex pulls back with a content sigh. “I don’t want to go back to what we were doing before, but... this is nice. Can we just cuddle for a little while more?”
“Of course, love,” Henry says immediately, pressing another kiss to his forehead. “Anything you need. Do you want to get on the bed again or stay here? Either way is fine.”
“Bed, please.”
When they climb onto the mattress again, they stay pressed against each other, Alex with his head on Henry’s shoulder and an arm around his middle, feeling Henry’s hand softly moving along his spine. Occasional kisses are placed on his curls, Henry’s chest warm and welcoming under him, and Alex lets his eyes flutter closed. Even when everything goes wrong, it always ends right.
“I love you so much,” Henry murmurs in his ear, and Alex lets the feeling sink into his bones, lets it warm his chest from the inside out. He smiles as he repeats those words back into the dark room.
He knows he’s perfectly, utterly safe.