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It takes Alex a lot longer to come down than he thought it would.
He’s got both forearms resting on either side of Henry’s head, seemingly stable, but he can feel them trembling.
He was able to hold himself up with one at first - the other free to run along the lines and dips and edges of Henry’s body, his palm unable to tear itself away from the expanse of pale skin, warm and delicate. All of Alex entwined with all of Henry - Henry’s fingers laced within his, pressed into the sheets, their grip growing stronger as the tension built. Henry was the first to tip over, his hand going lax within Alex’s for a moment, lost in pleasure, until Alex followed soon after.
He can feel his whole body shaking, but he can’t seem to make himself stop.
He doesn’t even realize his eyes are closed until he feels the gentle, tender brush of Henry’s lips against his eyelids, his lashes, all the way up to the line of his brows.
“Alex,” Henry whispers, his hands moving down from where they’re cupped around Alex’s face to his shoulders, up to his back, then to his biceps as he helps him hold some of the weight off. “Come down, darling.”
Alex huffs out a breath.
“I’ll crush you,” he says, surprised at how hoarse his voice is. He swallows down the lump that has formed in his throat and leans into Henry’s kiss against his temple.
“Wouldn’t be the worst way to go out,” he murmurs and Alex feels himself grinning, smiling in a way that brings out the little dimple in his left cheek; smiling in a way that he only does when he’s with Henry.
He finally finds the strength within himself to open his eyes, severely misjudging how much seeing Henry beneath him again would affect him.
His cheeks are flushed, roses blooming across the strong line of his nose, spreading down to his neck and chest. He’s got this sated look in those hazel eyes, but there’s something shining in them, too. His lips are soft and red and inviting, the little mole pulled at the corner where Henry is smiling up at him, and Alex feels just a little more than proud.
He did that.
Alex made Henry look like that - Alex made Henry feel like that.
He drops his head onto the pillow next to Henry’s head and groans into it.
“You’re so unfair.”
Henry laughs into the space behind his ear and Alex doesn’t think he’s ever heard something so beautiful before.
“You’re one to talk, dear,” Henry says. Alex presses one last little kiss to Henry’s shoulder, smiling into it when it hitches, and begins to ease himself off.
Henry winces when Alex pulls out of him completely, but with a quiet Sorry, baby mured against Henry’s ear, he thinks he’s forgiven.
Alex cleans them both off as much as he can without getting out of bed before he flops down next to Henry on the mattress, leaning on his shoulder, turned toward him.
Henry’s got one hand permanently situated in Alex’s hair while Alex runs his own up and down the curve of Henry’s waist, just beneath his ribs, to the soft, devastating dip into Henry’s hips, right before the long expanse of his thighs. This part of Henry feels made for him, like his hands were crafted with the sole purpose to touch and squeeze and hold Henry - right there, just like this.
Alex leans down to press his forehead to Henry’s, turning his neck a little uncomfortably to do so, but feeling an ache within him evaporate the moment he’s got Henry’s nose brushing against his. His eyes fall shut without hesitation.
He doesn’t know how long they stay like that, and he knows they need to get up soon, but he’s found that his rationality flies out the window the moment he has Henry in his arms - because nothing in the world has ever felt as right as this.
When Henry pulls away, he lets out a sound that is just on the right side of pathetic. He can’t find it in himself to care, though, because the next thing he knows, Henry’s fingers are tracing a specific pattern along his chest. Meticulously.
Looking down, Alex can see that he’s not touching Alex just to touch him. He’s fixing the chain around his neck, which had gotten tangled without Alex even realizing it.
“Oh,” he breathes, quietly. If Henry weren’t as close as he was, he wouldn't have heard anything. But Alex’s voice causes him to pause and look up.
“It looked like it bothered you,” Henry reasons, immediately. He starts pulling his hands away, apologizing gently, “Sorry, I thought you wouldn’t mind - ”
“I don’t,” Alex says, reaching out to keep Henry’s hands against his chest, until Henry’s fingertips find the chain again. “I don’t mind.”
Henry glances at him unconvincingly, but after a small, encouraging nod from Alex, he continues.
Henry handles the chain like it’s the most precious thing he's ever touched. Like it’s worth millions and is carrying a diamond instead of an old key to a house Henry has never even seen before.
Alex watches as he does it, eyes moving between Henry’s hands to his face and the little furrow between his brows that only eases once the chain is straightened out again, the key sitting directly above Alex’s heart, beating so loud he wouldn’t be surprised if Henry could hear it, too.
“You can just take it off,” Alex finds himself whispering, not sure if he can speak any louder. He’s feeling so much, more than he ever thought he could feel in a singular moment; but it feels right.
Nothing in his life has ever felt as right as Henry does.
That should scare him.
It doesn’t. It doesn’t.
“I know it probably bothered you,” Alex adds after a moment of silence from Henry. “Earlier.”
“It didn’t,” Henry assures immediately. When Alex shrugs, looking away, he reaches up and tilts Alex’s chin back towards him, meeting his eyes. “Hey. It didn’t.”
“It hit you in the face a couple times,” Alex adds and Henry fucking giggles, which Alex can’t help but mirror.
After a moment, after Henry collects himself, hazel eyes still bright, he places the palm of his hand right above Alex’s heart, the key nestled into the soft underbelly of his palm.
“This is as much a part of you as everything else is,” he says, maintaining eye contact, an intimacy that once sounded so simple, and yet now feels so monumental. Alex couldn’t look away even if he wanted to - its insane to even consider. “I don’t want to overstep.”
Since the moment Alex decided to start wearing the key around his neck, he’s never let anyone touch it. Not any other past girlfriends - if they could even be called that. Not Nora. Not even his parents.
This key is Alex’s - and the only person who has ever truly understood that was Henry.
In lieu of a response, Alex wraps his fingers around Henry’s wrist, the one against his heart, and squeezes gently. He can feel Henry’s pulse still thundering beneath his fingertips, and he finds it ironic that this is the most intimate embrace they’ve shared all day.
Out of everything, this is the moment Alex knows he’ll come back to, even years in the future.
He holds Henry’s hand there, holds his gaze, until Henry nods.
He slips his fingers under the chain slowly, taking his time in slipping it up and over Alex’s head. He’s careful to keep it from catching on Alex’s curls, stroking them away from his face tenderly once he’s finished.
It feels foreign, not having that weight there, resting just around his neck, laying against his collarbone. But he watches, fixated, as Henry holds the key in one hand, the other fixing the chain in his palm in a way that will guarantee it doesn’t tangle again.
He leans over Alex for a moment to place the key carefully against the side table where his watch is. Then, he returns to his original spot beside Alex.
He doesn’t let Henry go far.
He’s got his hands framed around Henry’s face immediately, sliding over his body until he’s kissing him into the mattress. Henry’s making those sweet, little noises in the back of his throat as his hands come up to clutch the hair at Alex’s nape and he’s smiling into it.
Henry’s thighs open beneath him and Alex falls into the cradle of his hips.
It’s just as good the second time, and between one thrust and the next, Alex feels something in him pulling; and he feels it later, as he eases back down beside Henry, with Henry’s fingers replacing the weight he used to feel with his key.
Alex finds, after Henry asks about his life in politics, after he feels Henry’s lips pressed beside the little mole on his shoulder, after turning toward him and kissing him again and again and again, he doesn’t mind the change.
Alex has never woken up in bed with another person before.
There have been instances where he’s found it was probably easier to stay but never could - NDA’s only lasted so long.
But when he wakes up the next morning, the warmth of Henry surrounding him, hair tickling Alex’s nose from where he’s pressed his face into the blond strands, he’s glad he had enough foresight - whether or not he knew it at the time - to leave all those other nights so he could experience this for the first time with Henry.
Nothing, absolutely nothing, would ever beat the way Alex felt the moment Henry’s eyes opened and met his, smiling that loose, gummy smile, as he murmured a heartstopping Morning, darling in a low voice, right up against Alex’s lips, right before he kissed him.
It didn’t take Alex long to pry him away from bed, into the bathroom, then into the shower.
They laid together again after. Henry was splayed across his chest, his thighs unreal and slung over Alex’s hips, early morning light streaming in through the gauzy curtains, lighting up Henry’s hair until a halo sprouted on his head.
“What time is your flight?” Henry asks eventually, his fingers tapping a staccato rhythm against Alex’s jaw. He wonders for a moment if Henry will play the piano for him one day, if he asks.
Alex throws an arm over his eyes, the other pulling Henry closer to his chest.
“Don’t remind me.”
“Soon, then,” Henry laughs, but even Alex can hear how hollow it sounds.
Alex leans down and presses a kiss to the top of Henry’s head. It comes so naturally, he doesn’t even realize he’s done it until he pulls away.
“Very soon,” Alex says. Henry hums into his neck, leaning up to give Alex a kiss; just a peck, one that makes Alex’s heart melt all the same.
“Come on,” Henry says, sitting up fully, patting his flank. “Time to get up.”
Alex feels the dread start to seep in the closer the time comes to his flight, the closer he is to being ready.
Henry waits for him on the bed, sitting on the edge in a white, fluffy bathrobe, all long legs and the messy swoop of his hair falling against his brow where his pomade usually keeps it upright.
Alex wants to wrap this man up in his arms and never let him go, protect him from the rest of the world. Alex wants to push him up against the wall and have his way with him, all over again, enough to make him moan out Alex’s name in that way he does.
When Alex is done, he stands in front of Henry for a moment, his bags near the door, hands fidgeting in his pockets, not entirely sure what to say until Henry shoots him a gentle smile and reaches out for him.
Alex is helpless to do much else but fall into his hold.
He leans down to bury his face in Henry’s neck, one knee resting beside his hip, lowering them both gently onto the mattress when Henry continues to pull him down. Their shoulders align and Alex can’t believe he’s expected to live a life after this - after Henry.
The world outside has never felt more terrifying now that he’s experienced the safety of Henry’s arms.
Alex presses a kiss to the pale expanse of his neck, just one at first, soft and chaste. And then he follows it up with another, another, another, until Henry’s head is pressed back into the bed, humming, running his palms across Alex’s shoulders.
It’s breaking Alex’s heart, having to leave - now, after everything. He doesn’t think he’d ever leave this man by choice, and maybe not even then.
He’s so afraid of what might happen when he leaves here - here, in Henry’s hold, in this little world that they’ve created over the past 24 hours - that he does the only thing he knows will make it better. He does the only thing he knows will make Henry laugh.
He blows a raspberry into Henry’s skin, loud enough that it echoes in Henry’s ears, until he gets the sound.
Henry’s smiling so wide when he pulls back, Alex doesn’t even realize the same expression is plastered on his own face.
Henry smacks a hand repeatedly, good naturedly, against his thigh, pushing at Alex’s shoulders as his own shake with laughter.
“Go back to America,” Henry groans, eyes shut tight as he smiles, nose scrunched up beautifully.
Alex slides his hands down to Henry’s, getting a good enough grip on him to help him up. Henry looks up at him, shaking his head, kissing the back of Alex’s knuckles.
“Go, darling,” he says, quieter now, reaching up to squeeze Alex’s hip.
There's so much Alex wants to say, so much he wishes he could will his mouth into forming into words - in any language - that could even begin to explain how he’s feeling.
But all he can say, all he can do, is lean down and press one last lingering kiss to the little mole next to Henry’s lips and whisper a quiet, “Bye.”
He makes his way to the door backwards, holding onto Henry’s hand until he has to let go. He doesn’t turn away until it’s absolutely necessary, willing himself not to look back as he picks up his bag, knowing he’s stronger than -
“Wait,” he hears behind himself, and Alex is a weak, weak man.
Henry’s making his way toward him like he’s on a mission, brow furrowed.
Henry’s reaching out toward him, something in his hand, and it’s only until he’s about a foot away that Alex looks away from his face long enough to glance down at what he’s holding.
In his palm, Alex’s key rests against his pale, smooth skin, like it was meant to be there.
That thing in Alex’s chest pulls, and this time, he doesn’t stop it.
“You don’t want to leave without - ”
Henry’s cut off by Alex’s lips, leaning into the embrace immediately, wrapping his arms around Alex’s neck as Alex’s own go around Henry’s torso, pressing into the base of his spine, into the space between his shoulder blades.
“I can’t leave,” Alex gasps as he pulls back, forehead against Henry’s. It’s the only place in the world he wants to be. Henry’s hand slides down to the side of Alex’s neck and he looks regretful when he meets Alex’s eyes.
“You have to, darling,” Henry insists, though he looks angry at himself for having to say it.
“I don’t want to.”
“I know.”
“I just…” Alex trails, looking down at Henry’s arms, his cheek, his temple, every little part of Henry Alex still has yet to memorize. And it’s so much. He feels so much he thinks he might explode. “I just… Henry.”
“I know, sweetheart,” Henry finishes for him, knowing Alex better than anyone ever has. “Me too.”
Henry pulls away, extricates himself as much as he can, but before Alex can protest, he’s pulling the chain out again and placing it slowly around Alex’s neck, moving the key to the center of Alex’s sternum before he tucks it into his shirt.
“Don’t forget me in DC,” Henry tries with a shaky smile, but Alex only pulls him back in, hugging him close to his chest, his face finding a home in the space between Henry’s shoulder and neck - warm and soft and molded to fit Alex.
“Hey,” Henry starts after a moment, pulling back, holding Alex’s face in his palms, looking at him earnestly. “We’ll see eachother soon.”
Alex smiles, but this time, he means it.
They will see eachother soon.
The hope in Alex’s heart grows larger than he ever thought possible, almost as big as the space that he has saved for Henry, expanding with every moment they spend together.
“Come visit me next time, will you?” Alex tries, and Henry snorts in a very undignified manner. Alex loves it, he loves -
“Alright, love,” Henry tells him, fingers running through Alex’s curls. Then, like he doesn’t know how it makes Alex feel when he says it, Henry smiles, “It’s a date.”
Alex sighs, lips connecting with Henry’s immediately, his key finding a home between both of their chests.
“Please, get back safe,” Henry says, hazel eyes soft and pleading after they separate, just enough to look at eachother. “I don’t care if you have to fly the plane yourself. Just get there safe.”
“You might be more concerned with my safety if I did fly the plane, baby,” Alex says, but Henry’s serious, and if his hands weren’t occupied with Alex’s scalp right now, Alex knows he would have been fidgeting with the signet ring on his pinky. He presses a firm kiss to Henry’s forehead. “I’ll call you once I land. I’ll call you when I get to baggage claim. When I’m in the car. When I’m back in the White House. When I’m in my room - ”
Henry laughs, lips still brushing Alex’s.
“I’ll answer all of them,” Henry promises. He presses his lips one last time to Alex’s, and it says more than words ever could. With one last smile, one last press of his hand over Alex’s heart, over Alex’s key, he steps back. “Now, go. Or else I’m never going to let you leave.”
Alex smiles, using every ounce of strength he has left in his body to let go of Henry.
Not for long, he thinks. Soon.
Alex grabs his bag and reaches behind himself to open the door.
Henry leans against the wall, gorgeous and perfect and Alex’s - even if it’s for just a moment.
Alex blows him a kiss and Henry catches it, smiling.
Then, with one last grin that leaves Henry’s cheeks pink, Alex winks and gives him one last, “Bye, baby.”
Henry’s face, bright and beaming and beautiful, is the last thing Alex sees before the door closes between them.
He makes his flight just in time, feeling, somehow, like he’s left his heart behind.
Leaning back in his seat, he feels his key shift against his chest, and he smiles.
He remembers the weight of Henry’s fingers running along his collarbone, can still feel how his lips felt against his skin.
He takes those memories and files them away for the days to come, keeping them all to himself, only for him to remember.
That rope within him pulls once more and Alex lets it - again and again and again.
He presses a hand above his heart, in the same spot Henry did only an hour before, excited to call Henry soon, and it’s enough.
It’s more than enough.
And it always will be.