The neverending buzzing is what wakes Alex up in the end.
He knew he should’ve closed the window before staggering into bed last night, or maybe it was this morning, he’s not quite sure. But he didn’t exactly expect an entire swarm of bees to enter his apartment.
His head is pounding, feet are sore, and mouth is dry. And now has to contend with quite possibly dying from a thousand bee stings.
In a weak attempt to block out the noise, he grabs a spare pillow and shoves it over his head. He’s resigned to the fact he’ll have to call pest control later or else he’s never getting a wink of sleep again. Rolling over is useless, the noise is only getting louder. Great, his face is about to be bitten to fuck, that will look fantastic in the photoshoot he’s doing later today.
His face ends up hitting something hard while trying to get comfortable, probably adding a bruise to the list of things to cover up.
Feeling around for the offending object, he now realizes this is the source of the constant and very loud buzzing. Right, not a swarm of bees then.
He opens his eyes and is immediately met with Nora’s name lighting up his phone screen. She's probably ringing to check he got back home okay, he usually makes sure to text at least her or June when he gets back in from a night out, but the details are a little hazy right now. When his phone stops ringing he notices his other notifications. Many other notifications.
Nora2 Missed calls15 Unread Messages: i’ve been waiting for this day to come for months
June6 Missed Calls9 Unread Messages: Please let me know you're safe x
Zahra4 Missed Calls5 Unread Messages: Alex you little shit, call me.
If Zahra is texting him at 7am in the morning telling you to call her, chances are you're screwed. He’s not entirely sure what he’s done this time and he’s too scared to find out, but figures this conversation would be a lot easier with coffee, preferably lots of it.
Finally getting around to making his first coffee of the morning, he unlocks his phone to find his Twitter notifications overloaded. Which isn't entirely unusual, he likes to dedicate time to interact with fans, post links to new campaigns or articles, and post the occasional thirst trap.
So, yeah, he gets attention. But he always makes sure to clear his notifications at the end of each day.
Maybe drinking so much last night wasn’t such a good idea, but what also wasn’t such a good idea is Henry Fox joining the same agency as him. Henry Fox, the agency’s new esteemed author who Alex was forced into celebrating release last night. Henry Fox, who just so happens to make it glaringly obvious that he hates Alex’s guts. So, he’s allowed, alright.
Clicking onto his Twitter profile, now he sees why Zahra might be pissed.
alex claremont-diaz@alexclaremontdiaz
saw henry fox tonight. in conclusion: body so tea the british are coming
03:38 AM · Nov 30, 2024
154K Retweets 2,804 Quote Tweets 579K Likes
Henry Fox @HenryFox · Nov 30Replying to @alexclaremontdiaz
Is that a promise or a threat?
Yeah, he’s definitely screwed.
Pacing around the kitchen in nothing but his boxers and a freshly brewed cup of coffee, this is how Zahra finally drops him as a client and his career is probably, most likely over.
He slowly makes his way over to his couch to re-read the tweet over and over. He can't believe he allowed himself to get so drunk and tweet such a thing on his main account. He's said worse, much worse, on his private account. But nothing that he’d be willing to share publicly. Those thoughts are for him. And maybe Nora, who is way too nosy and literally begged him to accept her follow request.
He's not wrong, Henry does have a great body, even if it is usually covered underneath awful sweaters and stuffy white shirts. But now all of his 6 million followers are also aware of this information.
Fuck it, he decides to scroll through some of the replies, thinking whatever the responses are, it can be salvaged. Hopefully.
Much to Alex’s shock, it turns out the reaction is nowhere near as bad as he thought it would be. Most of them seem to agree with him, which, fair. However there are a few that do catch his eye. The slight problem being that he’s not actually out to the public. At least, he wasn’t until about three hours ago.
He flops back onto the couch, closes his eyes and tries to take a breath. Tries to figure out how he wants to play this. His head is spinning with a million different outcomes and possibilities. He should probably call Zahra back, she would tell him exactly what to do and exactly how to do it. But there is a part of him that doesn’t want that. Being in this industry is a lot of pressure. Pressure to always look good. Pressure to say the right thing. Pressure to not lose too much weight. Pressure to not gain too much weight. It’s just a lot of pressure.
Up until now he’s managed to keep some semblance of balance to his life. This was always part of that balance, the part that allowed him to keep something for himself until he was ready.
Well, until drunk Alex decided for him that he was more than ready.
He goes to take a drink, maybe coffee will help clear his head. Immediately spitting it back out, realizing it’s now gone extremely cold. It does give him the shock he needs to make a decision, though.
If this is the story of how he comes out, then he might as well make it worth his while.
alex claremont-diaza very real promise sweetheart, i would never lie about something so seriousor it could be a threatwell, i meanonly if you're into that(unless henry’s pr team is reading this, then i would very much like to wine and dine your client, respectfully)
The banging in his head finally starts to subside with coffee now pulsing through his system. It means he can start to process the last thirty minutes.
1. He sent a tweet to the entire world implying Henry Fox was hot.2. The same Henry Fox who then flirted with him. Again, to the entire fucking world. 3. Most of his fans now think he’s gay, or at least bi. Who the fuck even knows.4. He very clearly slid into Henry’s DMs afterwards.
Thinks that might be enough to deal with right now.
Adds another, very important fact, to the list.
5. Henry hates him.
Or so Alex thought.
His phone starts buzzing from where he left it on the coffee table, which reminds him he really must call Zahra back before he severely gets his ass handed to him.
Unlocking his phone, he sees yet another missed call from Zahra, but also several new Twitter notifications from Henry.
Henry FoxWell, in that case, how could I refuse such a tempting offer?I would not be opposed, just so you know.(I can assure you it is not, but one would also be open to that)
Huh, maybe Henry doesn’t hate him after all. And who knew he could be funny? Each time he’s seen Henry it looks like he quite literally rather be anywhere else other than anywhere near Alex.
Alex and Henry have been part of the same agency for nearly three months now, and their paths have crossed at a few parties thrown by their agency. While the parties aren't always exciting, Alex didn’t think he was so terrible to be around. In fact, he fucking knows he isn’t.
Alex is fun at parties and prides himself in being amazing company. Always makes the effort to speak to everyone and ask how they are. Almost everyone. Henry has never been able to say more than two words to Alex before making an excuse and disappearing. Henry is fucking rude is what he is.
Nora has told him more than once to just let it go. That maybe they would get along if he cut Henry some slack, that maybe Henry is nervous about being at a new agency, in a whole new country. But Alex wasn’t buying any of it, he’s seen Henry charm his way around the room, beaming while answering questions about his upcoming book. Seen the grip of his long, elegant fingers while shaking people’s hands, seen how there’s never a piece of his stupid blond hair out of place, seen how his boring suit is always cinched in at his perfectly tight waist.
But Henry is for some reason giving him a chance. A chance to find out why he gets under Alex’s skin the way he does.
Maybe Alex needs to swallow his pride and listen to Nora after all. Before he knows it, his fingers start typing without his brain having time to stop him.
alex claremont-diazshiti didn’t think that would actually workyou always seem like you you'd rather drown me in your fancy gin and tonicin that case how about we take this somewhere a little more private
They exchange numbers after that. Deciding even if Henry’s PR team can't see their messages, Zahra can, and this is not something else he has the energy to explain to her.
Fuck, Zahra. He finally finds her contact and calls her back.
“Alex Claremont-Diaz, give me one good reason why I shouldn’t take control of all your social media accounts right this second?” Zahra practically yells at him as soon as she picks up.
“Well hello to you too, I’m just peachy thanks for asking, how's your day going?” He can tell she’s mad, even from halfway across the country.
“Do not get smart with me. You better send another tweet right now to your bestie Henry Fox clarifying it was an inside joke between two close friends. You are on the brink of the biggest campaign of your career and you cannot have a social media scandal derail it.”See Also25 for 2025: the best things to do in London over the next year32 reasons to love LondonA Guide To All The London Hotspots Beloved By Taylor, Gracie, & OliviaLondon 2030: how do we build a capital city fit for the future?
He can hear the tone in her voice, it's serious and slightly scary. He thinks about the implications of what she's saying, of what the tweet will say. It will say that he didn’t mean what he said, that he's the sort of person to joke about something as serious as that. Alex is many things, but a liar is sure as hell not one of them.
Only his Mom, Dad, June, Nora and Zahra (and now the entire world) know he's bi. He knows he has a massive queer following. They’ve made themselves extremely well known, and if he’s being honest, they’re the most supportive (and horniest) part of his fanbase.
It's not how or when he'd planned to do it but he doesn’t want to backtrack, not now that it’s out there and especially not now he’s taken this somewhat surprising leap with Henry. Sure, it wasn’t the most conventional or Zahra approved method, but when has he ever done anything strictly by the book?
“Alex? Alex, did you hang up on me?!” Zahra is clearly still waiting for his answer.
“Look Z, I’ll say it was an inside joke, whatever, but I’m not taking it all back. I know we haven’t exactly discussed me coming out but this, possibly, maybe, could be a better way? People love my sense of humor, you know they do, that's one of the reasons I know I'm your favorite client—”
“Don't push it, kid.”
“All I'm saying is a big monumental statement about me being bi isn't how I wanna do this now.” He’s thought about doing that, of course he has. Seeing as drunk Alex has already taken the matter out of his hands, he might as well roll with it.
Zahra lets out a sigh before conceding, “Fine. Any backlash, negativity or even so much of a whiff of bad press from anyone and we handle it my way, no arguments. Understood?” She isn't being unreasonable, she's only trying to protect him and his career, so he accepts.
“Understood. Thanks Z, you're the best.” He suddenly remembers his DMs with Henry and whether she would be so reasonable about those. “Sooo about you taking over my accounts?”
He managed to convince Zahra not to take full control of his socials, for now, but only once he'd fired off her pre-approved follow up tweet.
He also managed to calm Nora and June down after they were about to storm over to his apartment with a search party. Turns out he didn't send either of them a message when he got back home. He should probably have texted them as soon as he woke up but there were more important things going on.
When he finally takes a shower later in the morning, he gets dressed and spends a perfectly acceptable amount of time on his curls. Looking at his reflection in the mirror he can see the faint circles under his eyes, a result of barely any sleep and a rude wake up call.
He thinks back to why felt he the need to drink so much last night, Henry. Henry who barely speaks to him when they see each other, Henry who always bolts in the opposite direction. Thinks how this is the same Henry who openly flirted with him to his own millions of followers and the same exact Henry who seems to have just asked him on a date.
henrySo now we have established this is decidedly not my PR team and that I am quite amenable.I am in town for another week so maybe we could see each other before I leave. How does this weekend sound?
alexamenabledamn you really are britishi can't waiti’m serious i literally can't waiti wish i could see you nowbut calvin klein are expecting me to strip for them soon(not a joke btw)
henryIf it helps, I can't wait either.You are such a menace. Enjoy your shoot, love.
And now, the same Henry who apparently calls him love. He shouldn't think about how that makes him feel. It must be a British thing, something Henry says to everyone. It's not something he heard Henry utter once at the party last night. He refuses to think more of it.
They should probably talk about whatever the fuck it is they’re doing. Ignoring each other one day and agreeing to a date the next. It’s not exactly an unwanted development, just, surprising.
Surprising or not, he should really tidy up and get ready to leave for this shoot. He's been waiting months for this and Zahra has been working her ass off to get this job for him. Turning up hungover and late because he's too busy flirting with the guy who supposedly hates him (although he's not too sure anymore) is not the first impression he was going for.
The shoot goes better than expected, he always feels at home in front of the camera, but something about today makes him feel even more confident. Lighter, even. It should’ve been the complete opposite, it's the biggest campaign he's ever done, not to mention still being slightly hungover. New poses came to him that he would never usually want to try out, and he stayed way longer than usual to look through all the photos they took.
There was only a small sized elephant in the room. A few people made comment on his tweet, of course they did, but he could tell more of them wanted to. A guy with a bi flag pinned to his bag saying “welcome to the club” and a young assistant agreeing with him with a “Henry Fox? Girl, me too.”
All in all, he had no idea what he was worried about. So if he sends Henry a sneak peak of Calvin Klein’s new collection at the end of the shoot, that’s their secret.
“Are you more of a jalapeno or paprika kinda guy? Who am I kidding? You probably think salt is a spice.”
“Uh, Alex?” Henry's tone is a mix of confusion and amusement, which makes him grind to a halt midway through scouring his cupboard. Right, they've never spoken on the phone before. Or spoken at all really. He probably should've asked Henry if he was free, but he's on a high from how well today went so he didn't think Henry would mind.
“Shit, sorry, um, if you're busy, I should've checked first, I'll hang up n—” Alex rushes out before Henry begins to stop him, hearing a faint chuckle at the other end of the line.
“Alex, it's fine. It was just a surprise that's all. A pleasant one at that.” Henry pauses, and it’s the longest two seconds of Alex’s life waiting to hear if he’s gone about this all wrong, but figures he hasn’t when he hears Henry’s voice again, “And to answer your question..”
That's how he finds himself two hours later, phone abandoned somewhere on his bed with Henry's dulcet tones filling his room helping him while he packs a bag for his next campaign. He lost count of how many times Henry sighs after wondering do you really need that many pairs of trainers. Or when Henry declines his Grandmother’s call to carry on talking to Alex instead.
Turns out Henry really didn't mind at all.
The following three days consist of quick changes in the middle of a forest, strategically placed logs in the middle of said forest, submitting his essay in the back of a car and waiting for the weekend, specifically 8pm on Saturday. He and Henry managed to find a day where they were both free before Alex is called away to another shoot or is overtaken by school work, or before Henry has to go back to London for a publishers meeting.
During those days, he finds himself wanting to text Henry too, so he does. They do this now. The two hour phone call the other night seemed to have opened the floodgates. It's nice to share things about his day with someone without feeling like a burden. He also learns more about Henry, slowly, but he'll take it.
alexhenry, sweetheartyou burnt pastaWHO BURNS PASTAyou. you do
henryIn my defence, I said I could cook. I never said I was any good
alexremind me to never let you cook unsupervised againi need you alive and preferably not burnt to a crispfor purely unselfish reasons of coursethink about your readersthey need you!!!!!!!
henryHow altruistic of you.I am in fact thinking of them right now. About to have a meeting with my American agent.
alexaltruistic????stop using such big wordsit makes me want to do something stupid like storm into that meeting and show you the true meaning of altruisticwait is he the one with the weird moustache?always looks at me like he's praying on my downfallno wonder he's your agentyou have that in common
henryNo, not him. He was recommended to me by your agent, Zahra I believe? She assumed a fellow Brit would help me settle in.Also I have never “prayed on your downfall”
alextrust z to pair two brits togetheras if one wasn’t bad enoughKIDDING SWEETHEARTyou know i love when you talk about sailing and show me your boring tie collection
It goes on like this until Saturday. A constant stream of random thoughts he sends to Henry. Sending random pictures of a cat he sees on the sidewalk that reminds him of Henry. A few late night phone calls. These usually come when Henry is up writing and or Alex is up studying, neither of them being able to turn their brains off and sleep.
One morning he woke up with his laptop still on his bed, to the sound of a quiet, “Morning, love.” Henry not having been to sleep yet, and thinks he’s getting dangerously close to being comfortable.
When Saturday arrives, Alex is suddenly nervous.
He rarely gets nervous anymore, there are very few situations which warrant it. But this, this is different. He may have known he's bi for a while now, wandering hands under the covers in high school and a drunken kiss to follow is as far as he’s managed to get. Despite the temptation and ease that comes with fashion weeks, parties, clubs, he's still yet to go on a date with a man. So, yeah, he's fucking terrified.
Part of him doesn't know which version of Henry to expect. The Henry he’s come to know this past week, or the Henry from all those other weeks, the one who ignored him and ran. He hopes it's the first. Doesn’t think he’ll be able to handle going back to how they were before.
As it turns out, he doesn't get any Henry at all.
He's on the phone to Nora when he realizes he's been stood up. Sitting at the table he specifically requested for them, somewhere quiet, in the corner where they can be in public but still feel like they have some privacy. Something they have both come to value in the past year. Nora assures him he has nothing to be nervous about.
“Alex, you're a hot, young, single model who is going to be a kick ass lawyer one day. From what you've told me, he's into you just as much as you're into him, so stop worrying!” She always knows what to say, it's one of the reasons he loves her.
Alex sighs, “I know, Nora, but I was so drunk when I sent that tweet and now I have no idea what I’ve gotten myself into.” The waiter comes over again, asking if he's ready to order. Alex shakes his head and asks for five more minutes. He should at least have one drink to settle his nerves, the butterflies in his stomach that started before he even left his apartment multiplying the second.
He just about registers his phone buzzing in his hand while Nora continues to talk, now telling him about the “dream couch” her and June have picked out for their new apartment. It's a distraction tactic, he figures.
“Hold on a second, Nora.” Alex checks his phone while Nora pauses mid sentence. Something about the benefits of the “dream couch” facing north or south, but hearing about your ex and your sister moving in together may be a distraction tactic, but it isn't exactly a favorable one.
henrySorry, something came up. I am leaving for London tomorrow.
London. Tomorrow. His heart sinks as the words start to blur in front of him, he really should've had that drink. Henry was supposed to be here for one more day before heading to London, it’s why they were both so insistent on tonight, rather than waiting one more week until he gets back. Clearly those plans have changed now too.
He hears someone calling him from a distance, it's echoey and faint, unable to pinpoint who or where it's coming from, still too focused on the idea of Henry leaving, for good.
“—lex! Are you there, did something happen? Shit, June!” Right, Nora. He was on the phone to Nora. Now he remembers where he is.
“He's not coming.” That's all he manages to say before hanging up. He's being rude, he knows he is, but he’ll call her back and apologize later. He can't deal with Nora being so nice to him, trying to make him feel better by telling him it's not his fault, maybe Henry had an emergency or that New York is a big place and he'll find someone else.
Truth is, he doesn't want to find anybody else. It's fast, sure, but when has that ever stopped him from jumping in head first. He drops some cash on the table to make up for not ordering a single item and leaves the restaurant as quickly as possible.
All he can think about on the walk back to his apartment is that it probably was his fault. It usually always is.
He messages Henry as soon as he gets home, trying to understand what happened.
alex henry sweetheartare you okay?sorry you have to go back to london tomorrowi know you hate going back therei wish i could keep you companyand to tell your brother that smiling once in a while won't actually kill himi’ll be thinking of you <3
i saw a cute puppy on my way home tonightreminded me of david and how he would've looked as a babystill can't believe you named him david btwhe WILL resent you for naming him after a retired accountantand i will support him all the waySee AlsoWhat’s on in London - January 2025
A few hours go by and still no reply, messages not even read. He's probably packing, Alex reasons.
He tries again.
alexcan i see you when you're back in ny?
henryNot sure when I will be back. Early flight tomorrow.Maybe this is for the best, Alex.
Alex moves to sit on the edge of his bed, the shirt from his carefully chosen date outfit he’s still wearing starting to feel tighter and tighter around his neck. He looks down at his phone, hands shaking as he re-reads the messages from Henry, practically willing another message to appear. Hoping Henry changed his mind, hoping he magically knows when he'll be back on the continent.
Of course, another message doesn't appear. Maybe Henry was right, maybe it was for the best.
But Alex will be damned before he lets Henry be right about this.
alexdid i do something wrong?all this week you were happy and couldn't wait to see me and make up for lost timedo i not deserve more of an explanation?maybe what was for the bestplease just talk to meh?
He closes his messages and loads the JFK departures website. The rational part of his brain that would usually tell him this is too soon, too fast or too rash has been taken over by the loud irrational part of his brain. Telling him Henry deserves someone to fight for him, that they deserve to make a go of this, or at the very least to go and get himself an answer.
Four flights are leaving for London Heathrow in the next twelve hours. The first one is in thirty minutes and the last in ten hours. So that leaves two. Two flights and two chances.
He tries to get some sleep in the meantime but fails miserably, constantly checking his phone to see if Henry has replied (he hasn't) or if all flights to Heathrow have suddenly been grounded (they haven't).
It’s pointless trying to sleep now, so he gets up and throws on the nearest pair of jeans, a worn out hoodie and trainers, and orders an Uber direct to JFK airport. He doesn't remember the journey there, only vaguely recalls the driver asking if he has any luggage. The whole ride felt like an out of body experience, as though he wasn't in control, like being strapped into a rollercoaster and shooting off into the unknown.
Arriving at departures is chaos. In the neverending haze of HenryLondonTomorrow he forgot to check which gate the Heathrow flights depart from. Glancing at his watch, he notices there’s forty-five minutes until the first flight departs. He's been here enough times to know the quickest way to avoid most of the crowds. If there’s any time to put that to good use, it’s now.
There’s no way to know exactly where Henry is among all the chaos, so he tries to think about what Henry would do, where he would be. Knowing full well that Henry hates being late, but he also hates being incredibly early. Doesn’t like the anxious wait that comes with it.
He scours a total of twelve check in desks, four cafes and even two sets of toilets, for fuck’s sake. He’s intent on covering all the bases.
Beginning to think it’s an impossible task is when he finally spots him. Because where else would esteemed author Henry Fox be.
“See anything you like? I hear Henry Fox’s new book is pretty decent.” Henry turns with a slight blush to his cheeks, mouth parted as if he’s ready for an awkward exchange with a bookstore assistant.
Henry stops still when he sees it’s Alex instead, “Ah, I do believe you need better recommendations.”
“I don’t know,” Alex sings, “it’s a real page turner, read it all in one sitting. Ten out of ten, would totally do it again.”
He doesn’t know where they go from here. Humor is their thing, not this, they’ve never fought before. Doesn’t know if he can even class this as a fight if he never got to have his say.
“What are you doing here, Alex?”
He could lie. Say it’s a coincidence, that he has a last minute shoot to get to. It’s a way out if ever he needs one. He doesn’t.
“I had a feeling something wasn’t right. Call it lawyer intuition.” It’s a half attempt to make light of the situation but Henry doesn’t buy it. Henry moves them away from the store, getting the feeling neither of them want to have this conversation with an audience.
Henry folds his arms, and it’s painful seeing him revert back to this. The wall Alex has managed to break down so quickly has come right back up again, and he suddenly remembers this is why they avoided each other for so long.
But what he also remembers is their calls. Henry instructing him to get some sleep before a full day in front of the camera.
Remembers him talking Henry down from deleting his latest chapter after saying it’s all a load of wank, quite frankly.
Remembers how they were looking forward to last night. Both of them were.
So, he meets Henry’s gaze, stern and unwavering. “Look, I don’t think I’m asking for a lot here. You stood me up, which is, fine, whatever, it’s happened before. I’m a big boy. I just—just want you to tell me the truth, Henry, I at least deserve that.”
Henry begins to open his mouth to respond, but Alex has started so he’s determined to finish.
“If I was too much or too overbearing I'm sorry, okay? I've been told I go at a hundred miles an hour, can barely even stand still in front of a camera sometimes. Never—never even considering how much it can affect other people. Not everyone likes that about me, it's—fuck, it's okay, if—that's the reason why, you—you can tell me.” Alex rushes out and looks away.
He’s on the verge of giving up, accepting that whatever this is, or was, is over before it began. Which shouldn't be a surprise, not really, Alex always does find a way to ruin a good thing. And this was going to be a really great thing.
“Alex, love, breathe.” He feels Henry's hands either side of his face, soft, warm, grounding, after realizing he was starting to panic, his eyes heavy and fogging up. Henry slowly tilts his head to look directly at him, presses his lips together in a tight smile while stroking a thumb over Alex's cheek. It's amazing, really, how Henry manages to calm him down, even now when he's pretty sure he's about to have his heart broken in the middle of the fucking airport.
“I’m—I’m okay, thank you.” Alex nods and takes a deep breath while Henry slowly removes his hands from his face. He immediately misses the warmth and odd sense of protection that came with it.
“It's not any of what you just said, I assure you. I happen to adore how vibrant you are.” Now Alex is confused. He was so sure he’d done something. “I, um, I heard you. Last night. At the restaurant, talking to Nora.” Now he's even more confused. He said all nice things about Henry. Things he probably wouldn't admit out loud to him. Not yet anyway.
“Wait, what exactly did you hear?”
Henry grimaces and looks down, staring at the suitcase standing between them, “That you were blind drunk when you posted the tweet and you have no idea what you were going to do about it now. Something along those lines anyway. Which is fine, truly, if you never intended for it to get this far. I only wish you would have told me sooner, so I could have saved us both.”
Oh. Henry thinks this was a mistake, some big joke just for social media likes. Henry couldn’t be more wrong.
He tentatively takes a small step closer, tracking Henry’s face where a small wrinkle has formed between his brows. Alex is determined to let Henry know just how wrong he is.
“Baby,” that makes Henry finally look up at him. Interesting. “Did you happen to stick around for the rest of that conversation?”
He takes Henry's silence and raised eyebrow as his answer.
“Well, if you did then you'd have also heard me say that I don't for one second regret what I tweeted because it let me get to know you. The real you. Would that have been my chosen way to have taken you on a date? Hell no. But it worked didn't it? Well, almost worked.” he smirks at the same time as Henry winces, feeling like Henry is starting to understand how he means to him.
“What I'm trying to say is,” Alex continues and takes one of Henry's hands not holding onto his suitcase.
“Henry, I like you, like, a lot. More than I care to admit, honestly. I know it's only really been a week but you make me feel like I can pretty much tell you anything. And I know that may seem hard to believe because I talk a shit ton, and most of the time to anyone. But, I—I don’t tell just anyone the things I’ve told you. You'll accept my non-stop texts about everything and nothing, and you'll give me shit for taking too long to decide what to wear when it's literally my brand. And you'll show me pictures of ugly sweaters you bought David, and tell me about your annoying, quite frankly disturbing brother. I mean, plain toast? No wonder you had to move to the other side of the world.” That’s what ultimately gets a laugh out of Henry. He's missed that laugh.
“Christ, Alex, I am so sorry.” Henry tightens his hold on Alex's hand, further trying to prove his point. “I know this is no excuse but I'm no good, historically, at allowing myself to have things. So when I heard you in the restaurant, I did what I always seem to do when I find myself around you. I run. I take the easy way out. For that I am truly sorry, again. I may not deserve it and I understand if you won't, but I hope you can accept my apology, in time?”.
Standing here, with Henry's sparkling blue eyes staring right back at him, Henry's hand still grasping his own, he knows there was only ever going to be one answer to that question.
“Fuck, come here,” he suddenly pulls Henry into a hug, realizing they've never done this before and thinks he could get used to it. Could get used to the way his arms just about fit around Henry's broad shoulders, the way Henry's hands envelope his back, the way his chin hooks perfectly into Henry’s neck. For the first time in at least twelve hours, he exhales, “Of course I forgive you.”
Alex leans back to look Henry in the eyes, hands tight on his waist. He could get used to that too.
“Look, I know we haven't known each other properly for very long and if you need some time, I get it. But Henry, I need you to know that you deserve to be happy. You deserve to have someone in your corner every single day and I will literally fight everyone with my bare hands who has ever told you or made you believe otherwise.”
Henry’s hands gently squeeze where they’re holding onto his arms, "Just, for the record. I like you, a lot."
Thinks this is a sign that Henry is starting to believe it too.
“So, London huh?” Alex offers, in the midst of it all, he forgot they were standing in a very large, very busy airport, with Henry’s flight probably leaving very soon.
“Ah,” Henry removes his hands, much to Alex’s dismay, “I still do have to go, I’m afraid. There are some loose ends I need to tie up with the publishers.”
Alex tries to hide his disappointment, but it’s no use, Henry seems to be able to read him well enough by now.
The corner of Henry’s mouth is raised when he says, “I’ll be back in one week.”
“You fucker.” Alex gently pokes at Henry's shoulder, it’s not the most eloquent of responses he could’ve come up with but it does the trick. “You said you didn’t know when you’d be back.” Henry recoils at that. Ah. He did know, he just didn’t want to tell him. Alex deserved that.
A tannoy overhead announces the flight to Heathrow is now boarding.
One week. Alex can manage one week.
Alex absolutely cannot manage one week.
He lasts all of five minutes before texting Henry after leaving the airport
alexalready thinking about what i’m gonna to cook you next weekwill make sure to leave your taste buds in tactif you ask me nicely ;)miss you already
henryAlex, it has been five minutes
Then.
henryI miss you too.
He resolves to distract himself, drowns himself in studying and meetings with Zahra to arrange his Spring/Summer fashion week events. It helps, having plans to look forward to.
There are now daily phone calls with Henry too. As it turns out this will be his last meeting with his British publisher before officially signing with a New York based one. Henry’s Grandmother having finally let him cut ties with her company so Henry could choose his own. Alex tells him he’s proud of him for taking a huge step in his career. He hopes he can make Henry proud too.
The Calvin Klein campaign goes live on Friday, and before he even has time to look through all the photos, a text comes through with a link to the article.
henryChrist, you are utterly obscene.Please tell me they let you keep some of these?You look stunning, as ever.
Yeah, maybe he did make Henry proud after all.
Henry’s flight lands back in New York on Sunday morning. Alex offered to pick him up from the airport, but Henry declined with a I think we have had enough dramatic airport reunions for one week.
He’s been planning this since he left the airport. He stocked up on the wine he knows Henry likes, made sure his apartment was tidy, clear of pieces of paper so often strewn everywhere, and even bought some of those weird tea bags that Alex usually refuses to go anywhere near.
Henry arrives and he’s barely through the door before Alex pulls him into a tight hug. They’ve only done it once, but Alex doesn’t really care, plans to always greet him like this if he can. He’s missed him. So sue him, he’ll always win.
“I’m so glad you’re finally here” he says, taking Henry’s coat and hanging it up on the hook by the door. “Hope you’re ready to be wined and dined sweetheart.” They often joke about those first few messages they exchanged, both of them still surprised at how much they seemed to have misunderstood each other.
He spoke to Nora before Henry arrived, not risking a repeat of what happened at the restaurant. Texted June that he’s been at home all day and he’s safe. Zahra already instructed him not to contact her, something about moving house and not wanting to deal with his shit today. He doesn’t mind, not when Henry is finally here and waiting for him in his kitchen.
Grabbing two glasses from the cupboard, Alex starts to pour their drinks. “Thank you for inviting me. Relying on takeaway meals for one was beginning to wear incredibly thin.” Henry admits, taking a glass from Alex.
“So it wasn’t my stellar company you were after then, Fox?” They cheers and take a sip of wine, Henry’s ears beginning to turn a light shade of pink. It’s adorable.
“Well,” Henry clears his throat, “that too.”
While Alex makes a start on prepping their food, he tells Henry to make himself comfortable before declaring, “This will be the best tasting experience of your life.” He isn’t sure Henry is convinced, but he will be by the end of the night.
Out of the corner of his eye, he notices Henry inspecting the shelf in the far corner of the living room. Immediately he’s wondering if he's left anything incriminating on there, probably a half empty coffee cup, likely some post-it notes from studying for his last exam, definitely—
“Is this my book?” Henry scoffs. Right, that. Alex can just picture the triumphant look on Henry's face.
Careful of the stirring spoon still in his hand, he peers over his shoulder, and he was right, Henry does look a little too pleased with himself, holding his own book in the middle of Alex’s apartment with one eyebrow raised.
“I mean, it certainly looks like your book. Zahra must've left it here the last time she came over for a meeting.” Henry raises his other eyebrow at that, obviously not so sure. “Okay, okay. The agency gifted it to us a few weeks ago and I just didn't throw it away. I can't do that. You know, to the books” nodding his head towards the shelf behind Henry, pointing out the various school books neatly lined up in a row.
“Right, to the books.” There's a pensive look on Henry's face as if he wants to say more but doesn't know how.
Alex places the spoon back in the pan and turns the gas all the way down, before turning completely to face Henry, still holding the book up in satisfaction. Decides to answer the question Henry clearly wants to ask, “Yes, I've read it. There, happy?” He sheepishly looks down at his feet, not really wanting to see Henry’s reaction. Maybe he should’ve kept that one to himself.
Luckily, he doesn’t get much chance to dwell.
“Would you like me to sign it for you?” Henry smirks, tone shifting into something smooth and velvety, with yet another pleased look on his face. Alex is never living this down.
Pushing himself off the counter, he strides over to Henry, laughing “Oh, he's got jokes! Invite you into my home, cook you my food and you mock me. The food will be cold by the time you’ve signed all of your names” Henry narrows his eyes. Gotcha. “That's what I thought.”
Alex grabs the book out of Henry’s hands and turns on his heels to make his way to the couch. It doesn’t feel weird admitting to Henry that he read his book, people read books all the time, Alex reads books all the time. But it does feel weird to admit why he read it, considering they were both under the impression they hated one another.
The couch dipping beside him breaks him out of his thoughts, “If I’m being truthful, with how I treated you, I wouldn’t blame you if you did throw it away.” Henry says, sounding uncertain.
“Um, so what you said back at the airport, you...” Henry trails off and Alex notices him looking at his own lap, a hint of gold catching his eye where Henry is holding onto his finger.
“Read it all in one sitting, yes. I told you sweetheart, I don’t lie.” Alex pauses but decides to continue anyway, “One night when school was kicking my ass and work was quiet, I, uh, needed a distraction. Just needed something else to focus on that wasn’t all of these thoughts of me failing my exams or, I don’t know, suddenly losing all my extremely good looks overnight and no one wanting to hire me again. Yeah, yeah, I know, such crazy thoughts.” Alex rolls his eyes in an attempt to lighten the mood but with Henry looking at him so earnestly now, he might as well let it all out. “It wouldn’t have been my first choice, I admit. And I wasn’t kidding when I said Zahra left it here, it was a gift for all the clients, she brought it over after I accidentally left it at the office.”
“Hm. Accidentally.”
“Shut up!” Alex starts to laugh but Henry turns his body towards him, lifting one knee onto the couch and gesturing for him to carry on. “Well, when I noticed your photo on the back, you looked so much different than all the other times I’ve seen you. Happier, and like you actually wanted to be there. Like, I know it’s your book or whatever so you should be happy. But I think I was just curious, curious to know how this was the same fucking guy who always looks at me as like he’s plotting my murder. I thought if anyone could refocus my mind, even if it was onto hatred, it would be you” He huffs, and turns to face Henry, their knees brushing as he gets more comfortable.
It’s not the closest they’ve been all night but it feels more intimate than when he greeted Henry at the door. If he had to guess why, it's probably because he’s been letting Henry take the lead on this, on them. At least since he left for London. Not wanting to say or do the wrong thing, he already nearly ruined this once, he wasn’t planning on doing it again.
Alex looks down while shaking his head, quieter now, “It sounds so fucking stupid saying it out loud.”
There’s a weight on his knee and he sees those elegant fingers come into view, “Love, I promise you, you do not sound stupid. In fact, that is probably the most sense you have ever made.” Henry quips, but his voice remains soft and reassuring.
All of a sudden Alex doesn’t know why he was so worried. Henry seems to take all of his uncertainties without any judgement, feeling like Alex could say anything and it would be the easiest thing in the world. “I know as much as anyone how hard the pressure can be sometimes. And if you thought my book would help in any way, hatred or otherwise, I am glad. Thank you, for sharing that with me. So, did it? Help, that is?”
“Well, I booked a new campaign the next day and aced my exam, so I’d say this book is my lucky charm, sweetheart.” Alex taps the front cover before placing it onto the table for safekeeping so he can move closer to Henry. One of his legs moving over one of Henry's still planted on the floor, the other resting against Henry’s knee on the couch.
“I think you should send me snippets of all your writing from now on. I mean, you wouldn’t want me to fail would you?” Alex beams, “I can see the headlines now: heartthrob Alex Claremont-Diaz in school shocker after failing the bar! Zahra would literally chop your head off, and I happen to be quite fond of your head.” They stare at each then burst out laughing at Alex’s choice of words.
Alex falls forward into Henry, laughing into his neck not quite believing it came out quite like that. He feels Henry’s hand on his shoulder as he says “You wouldn’t be the first to say that.”
Alex groans, the hand on his shoulder making its way to the back of his neck, “God, I fucking hate you.”
Lifting his head up, he can see Henry even clearer now, can see the tiny crinkles around his eyes, how relaxed Henry looks, here in his apartment, on his couch, and thinks to himself I did that.
He must be staring at the faint laugh lines around Henry’s mouth, the ones he’s so rarely seen but now he’ll make it his mission for them never to be hidden again, when Henry whispers, “The food is getting cold, love.”
Suddenly he’s not so hungry anymore, so, fuck the food. Henry starts to giggle, and oh, maybe he said that out loud. Alex tips his head forward to press his lips against Henry’s, gently at first, like striking a match and waiting for it to ignite. Henry’s book may have quietened his brain down all those weeks ago, but here, now, it’s the feel of Henry’s soft lips that silences it completely.
A small vibration from Henry, a shocked sound, is what makes him acutely aware he was supposed to be letting Henry take the lead. Alex makes a weak attempt at pulling away, thinking he’s gone and fucked this up by doing the one thing he said he wouldn’t do again, push.
But if the way Henry grabs the curls at the nape of his neck, other hand set on his jaw, thumb lightly tapping his chin, a silent plea to let Henry in, is anything to go by, he thinks he wouldn’t mind getting burnt if Henry was the one setting him ablaze.
The next thing he feels is the couch pressed against his back and Henry filling space in his lap. Clearly having blacked out at Henry using his strength to reposition them, he makes a mental note to come back to that piece of information, hopefully, very soon.
The feel of Henry’s hands on his face, Henry’s knees pressing in either side of his hips, the backs of Henry’s thighs pushing down against his own, the last drop of wine he’s managed to taste from Henry’s tongue, is all consuming and overwhelming but he never wants it to stop.
They do eventually, reluctantly, break apart, breathless and lightheaded. “Hello.” Henry breathes out. “Mhm, yeah—hi.” Alex replies, brain not yet fully back online.
They take a minute to catch their breath, Alex willing his heart to slow down, fearing it may come up through his throat if he’s not careful.
When he finally opens his eyes, it's to Henry’s ruffled hair, cheeks now the same shade of pink as his lips. Unable to resist the urge, he gently moves the piece of hair that’s fallen into Henry’s eyes and twirls it around one of his fingers. “That was so much better than I imagined,” Alex admits, no longer caring about keeping his thoughts to himself.
Henry moves his head back and tilts it to the side, “You’ve been imagining this.” It comes out as more of a statement than a question, Henry’s voice drifting back into that deep, delicious tone that Alex has only heard once or twice now, but it manages to render him speechless each time.
All he can do is nod while Henry leans forward, whispers directly into his ear, “Tell me, darling, what else have you been imagining in that beautiful brain of yours?”
And well, Alex doesn’t need to be asked twice.
It’s his turn to use his strength to push Henry onto his back. He hears Henry gasp as he does, but also feels those obscenely long, legs being wrapped around his waist. He needs to get back to kissing Henry, like, now. Alex latches on to Henry’s neck, pressing chaste kisses there, all the way up his jaw, nips at his earlobe and smooths it over with his tongue. Imagines what it would be like to leave marks, making sure everyone knows that esteemed author Henry Fox is taken. They’ve not spoken about that yet, but oh, he wants.
One of his hands trails up Henry’s thigh, squeezes gently while the other finds a home on his waist, underneath the stupid sweater Henry still seems to be wearing.
Why the fuck are they still wearing so many clothes? His pants were already beginning to feel too tight the minute Henry’s hand reached his hair. Thinking Henry is having the same problem, he bears his hips down once, twice, until he’s met with a groan, “Ah-Alex, please.” And yeah, he is.
The stupid sweater ends up on the floor, along with Alex’s shirt, and both of their pants. It took some manoeuvring, Alex not wanting to stop kissing and Henry not wanting to stop touching.
Henry’s hand comes up to his face, thumb tracing his lower lip, pulling it from his teeth. Alex sits back on his heels taking a moment to really look at Henry, gazes over his torso, sees that perfectly cinched waist, the soft skin under his navel, a neverending artwork of beauty spots. He drops his eyes down and can see where Henry’s hard in his boxers. “Fuck, my tweet was right.” Alex blurts out.
“You insufferable arse. Remind me to block you after this” Henry replies, swatting his hand to Alex’s side. It’s never been this way before, this unpredictable, not with anyone. He doesn’t think it will be again. Hopes he never has to find out.
He knows Henry likes it, this thing they have going on. The back and forth. Senses it in the way Henry’s hand reaches round to squeeze his ass, other hand pulling gently on his curls. It's a foolproof way to spur him on even more. Alex leans forward, places one hand on the arm of the couch behind Henry’s head and bucks his hips again and again, wanting Henry to feel how much he likes it too.
Alex leans down so close he can see Henry’s pupils are blown, “Speaking of this,” his fingertips trailing the waistband of Henry’s boxers, raising his eyebrows, thinks if he doesn’t get his mouth or hand or even just his eyes on Henry soon, he might just expire, “how about we take this somewhere a little more private, sweetheart?”
For the second time in two weeks, they do.