Chapter Text
After, they towel off and change, and Alex has pulled back on his boxers and white tee when he sees Henry is sitting back on the bed by his nightstand, holding Alex’s copy of Tomorrow All Will Be Over.
“Oh,” Alex says, “I guess I just never put that away after your book signing.”
Henry looks up at him. “This has been on your bedside table since the signing?”
“Um, I guess?” Alex shrugs, feigning nonchalance. He probably doesn’t need to pretend he’s chill about Henry anymore, but the habit is hard to kick.
Henry flips open the cover to see the inscription, tracing fingers thoughtfully over the script. “You must’ve thought I was awful,” he says. “When we first met.”
Alex sits next to him, knocking their knees together. “Yeah, at first. You were kinda a dick. But then I mostly felt bad for you. It must be really stressful, meeting all those people and trying to have a meaningful interaction with every single one.”
Henry slowly nods, not meeting Alex’s eye. “Tomorrow is very personal to me, you know. And I’m really happy it’s resonated with people. I think that’s probably every writer’s dream, to write something that someone might connect with. But it does make me feel quite… exposed.”
“Is that why you haven’t told me anything about what you’re working on?” Alex asks.
“That’s part of it, I suppose. Sharing my writing always makes me feel vulnerable.” Henry shrugs. “It didn’t help that I was so unsure how you felt about me. I thought…. Well, I thought if you got a good look inside my head, you might not like what you found.”
Alex tugs Henry closer, tilting his chin to meet Henry’s eye. “That’s insane. I hate to admit this, but I’m a little bit obsessed with you.”
Henry smiles, but then something mischievous sparks in his gaze. “Are you?” he asks.
“Yes, and this is where you tell me you like me back, asshole.”
Henry softens immediately, and he runs a smooth fingertip alongside the edge of Alex’s jaw. His eyes burn into Alex’s. “I’m not sure anyone else has ever made me feel like this,” he admits.
Alex doesn’t know what to say, so he kisses him and tries to pour everything he’s feeling into it. Henry has preoccupied a far too large part of Alex’s brain since the first moment he laid eyes on him. Longer than that, even. Alex had loved Henry’s writing first, enticed by the way he structured sentences and laid out paragraphs, captivated by how he charted heartbreak and hope across pages.
Now he knows Henry. Somehow, impossibly, that’s even better.
When they finally pull back, Alex grins. “Is now a good time to talk about what you wrote in my copy?”
“That,” Henry goes deliciously pink, eyes wide, “was a rather hasty decision.”
“You pretended like you didn’t know who I was,” Alex says. He rests his chin on Henry’s shoulder and smiles up at him to show he’s mostly teasing.
Henry brings a hand up to cover his eyes. “I regret everything.”
“Fine, in that case – ” Alex goes to pull back, but Henry drops his hand to catch Alex’s arm.
“Alright, alright,” Henry acquiesces. “Don’t go anywhere.”
So Alex stays. He likes being pressed into Henry’s side, arms looped around him.
Henry lets out a slow exhale. “I read it right around the time I was leaving London. It was… partially just excellent escapism, but I also was struck by how carefully you constructed the characterizations. Each felt fully realized. Flawed. I think that was comforting to me at the time, that people could make mistakes or do bad things, but still be someone to root for. It’s something I’ve tried to emulate in my own work, really.”
“Stop it,” Alex breathes. “Or you’re going to do terrible things to my ego.”
“Unfortunately, I seem to rather like your ego,” Henry says. “Who knew I’d fall for an arrogant American who loves to make fun of me.”
“You’re never allowed to take that back.”
Henry tugs at one of Alex’s curls and shrugs. “After that,” he says, “I stayed up to date on your career. I’d seen your Instagram before, so I recognized you at my signing.”
“Why didn’t you say anything?”
“I panicked. You were so beautiful, and you caught me off guard, and I’d already made the split-second decision to pretend not to recognize you by the time Nora said you were an author. And then I wished I could backtrack, so I wrote what I did in your book. It was all over so fast. I really didn’t think.”
“Well,” Alex says. “I guess it could’ve worked out worse. At least I finally got you into my bed.” He grins brightly.
“Yeah,” Henry says softly. Then, he juts out his chin and meets Alex’s eye. “Alex, it’s important to me that you know I’ve wanted to be with you for quite some time. I don’t think I can do casual with you.”
Alex presses his lips to Henry’s cheek. “Good thing for you I’m an extremely serious person. Nothing casual about me.”
Alex is smiling when he pulls back, but Henry furrows his brow. “Alex,” he says again.
“Henry,” Alex echos.
“This is important to me.”
“Me too,” Alex says seriously. “Ask me what you want to ask.”
Henry meets his gaze steadily. “Will you go on a date with me?”
Alex beams. “I’d love that.”
–
The following week, when Alex has finally wrapped up finals and has a week off before starting his summer position, they meet at Henry’s apartment in Brooklyn. Alex sends Henry several texts while he’s on the train complaining about the commute, but he’s secretly thrilled to finally see Henry’s place for the first time.
It’s much as he imagined it. Organized and carefully decorated with clean, bright colors, but with undeniable marks of Henry that make it feel homey and comfortable – a cardigan thrown over the back of the couch, photos of Henry and Bea stuck on the fridge, a dog bed haphazardly placed in the corner. And the books. Tall wooden bookshelves filled with them from floor to ceiling.
Henry looks good here, leaning against the kitchen counter while Alex takes it in. He’s all long, lithe lines and soft hair and soft eyes.
Alex is in deep.
“I like your bookshelves,” Alex tells him.
“I believe you once had some rather strong opinions about my organization system,” Henry points out.
“Yeah, you’re definitely a little bit neurotic, but you’re hot, so it balances out.”
Amusement sparkles in Henry’s eyes. “Is that right?”
“Yep,” Alex says, grinning.
David comes trotting out from another room, and Alex leans down to scratch his ears. “The infamous David.”
“He must like you, he’s not usually so happy when he’s been woken from his nap.”
“I have that effect.”
Alex straightens back up and steps a little closer into Henry’s space. “So. Date. What do you have planned for us tonight, Fox?”
Henry almost looks shy, but when he reaches out to rest a hand on Alex’s hip, his fingers are sure and steady. “How do you feel about dinner? There’s a good Thai place nearby.”
A single touch from Henry has Alex’s heart fluttering in his chest. “Dinner is good,” he says, a little more breathlessly than he’d care to admit.
The restaurant is cozy, only a few small tables filling the narrow dining room. Each table is lit by a little lamp with a pleated lampshape, and the yellow light casts soft shadows across their faces. They drink glasses of wine and eat pad thai and sweet sticky rice, and Alex tries not to get distracted by the way Henry’s fingers curl around the stem of his glass.
Alex knows he sometimes talks about work and school too much, so he tries to steer the conversation into other avenues. But when they’ve finished dessert and are working their way through the final sips of their wine, Henry asks, “Have you thought any more about your next draft? I imagine you’ve been pretty busy with finals.”
He looks genuinely curious. That, combined with the two glasses of wine and the achingly sweet knowledge that Henry actually seems to care, makes Alex want to be honest. “I’ve been thinking a lot about what you said, actually. About one type of writing not being superior to another. Do you really think that?”
Henry nods slowly. “Of course. I wouldn’t have said so otherwise.”
“You don’t think there’s more merit to literary fiction?”
“Not inherently,” Henry says. “My publisher thought marketing Tomorrow as a literary fiction would make it seem more serious. I’d always thought of it as a romance and a coming of age story.”
Alex looks down at his glass, swirling the remnants of his wine. The Only Secret had exceeded every expectation he had in terms of success. He should feel grateful to have anyone reading his work at all, and he knows he shouldn’t compare himself to others. Especially to Henry, who is not only genuinely, incredibly talented, but also white and rich, the son of an actor who had shiny, charismatic appeal. Henry clearly didn’t want to use his name or privilege to get ahead, but the fact of the matter was agents and publishers would’ve known who he was when he submitted his work.
Marginalized stories always seem more palatable when they come from people like Henry. That isn’t his fault, it’s just how the world works. Alex knows this.
“Alex,” Henry says after Alex’s too-long pause. “To me, a good story makes people feel something. A good book shows a tiny piece of humanity reflected back at us. You put so much heart into your work, I’m sure whatever you do next will connect with people.”
Alex lets out a long sigh, glancing up to meet Henry’s eye a little sheepishly. “I guess I just have really fucking bad imposter syndrome.”
“Maybe the publishing world didn’t recognize your brilliance the first time around, but you made yourself heard anyway. But who matters more, the people who passed on your work, or the readers who get to see pieces of themselves in the pages?”
Henry has a way of distilling down all of Alex's fears and anxieties to their most concentrated point and expelling them entirely with how reasonable and kind and good he is. Alex works hard to keep those jagged edges hidden, tucked close to his heart, but Henry sees right through him. It reminds him a little of Nora, who can always cut to the core of an issue with pure logic. But with Henry, it's just him being good.
“How do you do that?” Alex asks. “You just… always know the right thing to say.”
“It’s something I’ve told myself plenty of times,” Henry shrugs. “ Tomorrow has gotten a lot of really wonderful, positive attention, but it’s also been banned in several states, you know. I’ve read plenty of nasty things about my own work.”
Alex nods thoughtfully. “There are always going to critics, and homophobes, and racists. But we’re still here anyway.”
–
Alex
game night at mine tomorrow?
I need to celebrate being done 1L aaaand henry and pez already said they’d come
June
You’re speaking to Henry again??
Nora
What the fuck alex you need to tell us when you have important life updates
Alex
maybe more than speaking
Nora
Details now
Alex
we made up
and made out
among other things
June
Oh my GOD
Nora
SPECIFIC details
June
I also want more details but nothing sexual in the groupchat please we’ve discussed this
Alex
i’ll tell you guys more at game night!
Nora
Deal
June
I’m really happy for you, baby bro <3
–
It takes fifteen minutes for them to decide how they should split up teams for Trivial Pursuit. Eventually, Alex insists on being paired with Henry and accepts the disadvantage of being a team of only two as long as they aren’t separated.
They crowd around Alex’s coffee table, Henry and Pez on the couch, Alex cross-legged on the floor by Henry’s feet, June and Nora on a pile of pillows and blankets on the other side of the table.
“I hope you’re not overestimating my trivia abilities,” Henry says, but he looks pleased.
“I hope you’re not underestimating mine. I’ll carry the team if I have to, baby,” Alex quips back.
It quickly becomes apparent that Henry is actually excellent at trivia, and Alex feels progressively hotter under his collared shirt as Henry good-naturedly answers question after question correctly, blushing when Alex whoops and cheers in response. He’d expected Henry to be good at the literature questions, but he’s also great with history and pop culture. At one point, there’s a question about James Bond, and Alex looks up to carefully watch Henry’s reaction, but Henry just smiles slyly when he gives the correct answer.
Unfortunately, Pez, Nora, and June are quite the trio. Nora is practically a walking encyclopedia, and June fills in for any of the literature or arts questions Nora might have missed. Pez only jumps in occasionally, but when he does, it’s across categories, giving astonishingly accurate answers for clues that stump everyone else.
“What iconic singer made a two-episode guest appearance on A&E's ‘Bates Motel’ in 2017?”
June and Nora debate potential answers for a solid 30 seconds before Pez finally raises an eyebrow and says, “It’s Rihanna.”
Alex’s jaw drops. “How did you know that? Deep cut.”
“I know everything about Rihanna. She sends me a Christmas card every year.”
The room bursts into questions.
“Wait, what?” June exclaims.
“Rihanna sends Christmas cards?” Alex asks.
“I want your life,” says Nora.
The game dissolves for several minutes after that. While Pez launches into a story, Alex nudges Henry’s knee. “Want to get a refill with me?”
In the kitchen, he pours himself a whiskey and Henry another glass of wine. Henry leans on the counter and watches.
Alex likes having Henry’s tall frame in his tiny New York kitchen. He sets the glasses down and steps into Henry’s space.
“I discovered some really interesting things about myself tonight,” Alex tells him.
“Oh?” Henry says.
“It turns out I really like it when you answer trivia questions correctly.” Alex punctuates this statement by tracing his fingers up Henry’s chest, looping his arm around the back of his neck.
“Do you?” Henry looks amused, but he wraps his arm around Alex’s waist, pulling him closer.
Alex hums in assent and presses a soft kiss to Henry’s jaw. “I’m really, really fucking into it,” he says, voice low. He can hear the others still talking a few steps away in the living room. “And once I get you alone, I’m going to show you exactly how into it I am.”
“I can’t believe trivia is a turn-on for you,” Henry muses. “Actually, I take that back. It makes a lot of sense when I think about it.”
Alex nips at his neck, and Henry lets out a huff of laughter.
“Don’t be a dick,” Alex says. “I’m trying to tell you it’s hot when you’re competent.”
Henry lifts Alex’s chin with a finger and presses their lips together. It’s soft and slow and Alex just about melts under the attention. When Henry pulls back and says, “It’s mutual, darling,” it takes Alex a moment to remember what they had been talking about.
“Lovebirds,” Nora calls from the other room. “If you think you can escape defeat by hiding out in the kitchen, you would be wrong! Get your asses back in here.”
In the end, Alex and Henry are narrowly beaten, and Alex immediately insists it was because they had an unfair disadvantage.
“Absolutely not,” June says. “We specifically made you promise you wouldn’t complain about team sizes. You insisted on being the smaller team.”
Alex opens his mouth to respond, but Henry beats him to it, “You did promise, Alex,”
Alex rounds on him. “Not my own team . How can you betray me like this?”
“I’ll make it up to you later,” Henry says solemnly. Alex blinks dumbly at him. Henry smiles slowly.
“Oh, god,” June says. “New house rule, no flirting during trivia.”
“Technically, the game’s over,” Alex points out. “And you and Pez have been flirting all night.”
She glares at him, but noticeably doesn’t argue.
They all help pick up before they leave, and June insists on washing out everyone’s glasses. Alex is relegated to drying duty, and in some ways, it reminds him of when they were kids, tag-teaming dishes after dinner.
When June is done, she leans on her elbow on the table, watching Alex dry out a wine glass.
“Are you happy to be done with school?”
“Yeah, it’s been nice to have this week off. Kinda nervous about my job, I guess. It’s going to be a busy summer.”
“You could take a break, if you wanted. You don’t need to write another book if you don’t want to. I know you think you need to do it all, but it also could be nice to take some time for yourself,” she pauses. Alex could hear her unspoken words. Not just for himself, but for Henry, too.
He sets the glass down. “I want to write another book. It’s important to me.”
“Just don’t burn yourself out. I know you think you have to do everything all the time, but you don’t need to prove yourself to anyone, all right?”
“I know. This is for me.”
June quirks a wry smile. It’s an expression Alex recognizes from the mirror. “Ugh, I’m so proud of you, it makes me sick.” She flicks dishwater at him.
Alex rolls his eyes. “Thanks, Bug.”
It’s late when the others leave, shuffling out with catcalls over their shoulders.
The apartment is quieter when it’s just them. Back in the kitchen, Henry perches on a barstool and Alex tops off his glass.
“Might as well finish the bottle,” he says. Henry accepts it with a smile.
“June’s right, you know,” he says.
“Were you eavesdropping on me?”
“Not purposefully. Your apartment is not overly large, dear.”
That was probably putting it politely, but Alex still rolls his eyes.
“You could take a year or two off from writing if you wanted,” Henry continues. “Come back to it once you're done school. People do it all the time. I’m doing that right now.”
“Are you?” They hadn’t ever discussed that before.
Henry shrugs. “I’m not trying to pressure myself. I’m writing what I feel like, and if it turns into something, great.”
“I’ve never really worked like that. I think I need an end goal in mind to start just about anything.”
“So what’s the goal this time?”
Alex shrugs. “I get in my head a lot, you know? Sometimes I get in my own way for no good reason. There are a lot of things I’m interested in writing about, but I kept feeling like I couldn’t start anything new until I had done all this research. Read the classics, or whatever. And it’s been helpful. I have a lot of inspiration to draw from. But I just have to start at some point, right? I never thought this much about it the last two times. I can’t control how people are going to react to my writing. I can’t control if it’ll sell, or if people will like it. But I want to write. I want it so badly. And I can’t get better unless I just do it.”
“Then you will,” Henry says definitively.
Something warm swells within Alex’s chest. He sets his glass down and leans in close. “Hey, remember earlier when I told you how hot you are?”
“Because I was good at trivia?” Henry smiles. “Yes, I do remember.”
“Pretty sure the time is now for me to show my appreciation for your incredibly sexy brain.”
“Just my brain?”
Alex presses his hands firmly to Henry’s thighs, dragging them up the denim, landing solidly on his waist, tucking just the tips of his fingers under Henry’s top. “Maybe other parts of you too.”
Henry catches Alex’s lips in a kiss. They make out leaned against the kitchen counter, Henry’s fingers wound up in Alex’s curls, and Alex hangs on tight to Henry’s hips. With most things, Alex’s brain is usually going a hundred miles an hour, whirring in four different directions at once. But with this, with Henry pressed against him, every thought goes silent except for want and Henry and more, focus lost somewhere between the space their lips touch.
After a while, Henry pulls back. The look he gives Alex is pure desire. “Bedroom,” he says.
“Yep, yes, okay,” Alex says, tugging Henry towards his room, making a valiant effort to kiss him the entire way.
He ends up pressed back into his comforter, Henry kneeling over him and stripping off his shirt. Alex takes in the view a little deliriously, eyes catching on pale skin and collarbones and the dip of Henry’s waist.
Henry makes quick work of Alex’s shirt and jeans so that Alex is completely naked beneath him. He drags his hands tortuously down Alex’s body before settling near the end of the bed, pulling one of Alex's legs up and over his shoulder, pressing teasing little kisses up Alex’s thigh.
“Oh, god,” Alex says, throwing his head back and closing his eyes. “Fuck.”
Then a wet hot heat surrounds him, and Alex lets out a long moan. He threads his fingers through Henry’s hair and looks back down again. He wants to burn this moment into his brain forever, those fucking lips wrapped around him, blue eyes trained on his, clear and bright and beautiful.
“You motherfucker,” Alex gasps when Henry takes Alex deep and hollows out his cheeks, sucking messily. Henry digs his fingers into the flesh of Alex’s thighs and goes somehow, impossibly, deeper.
It all goes a little hazy after that, just Henry’s mouth and Henry’s hands and Henry’s fucking eyes, fluttering up at him while he sucks Alex off.
When Alex feels his orgasm cresting, he tugs on Henry’s hair. Grits out, “Baby, I’m gonna – “
Henry just swallows around him pointedly, and then Alex is coming into Henry’s mouth, and Henry dutifully swallows him down.
When Alex is next aware, Henry is pressed up against his side, trailing his fingers over his abs and pressing his lips to Alex’s jaw.
“Do you still have your pants on?” Alex asks. “Not cool.”
“I’m sure something can be done about that,” Henry murmurs.
Alex reaches down to tug at Henry’s pants, but Henry continues, “How would you feel about fucking me?”
Alex fumbles with the zipper. “Uh. Fucking great.” He pauses. “But you do know I just came, right?”
Henry smiles slowly, all mischief. “I’m sure we can figure out something to do in the meantime.”
Henry lets Alex finally fully undress him, but then pushes him back down onto the mattress with a knowing smirk. He spends long minutes brushing the tips of his fingers across every inch of Alex’s oversensitive skin, catching his nipples in the cut of his teeth, sucking a bruise into Alex’s neck. Alex is usually drowsy after he comes, but Henry’s touch makes him feeling fucking electric, every brush of Henry’s fingertips sparking against his skin.
It’s not long until Alex is already getting worked up again. Henry pauses, fingers drifting near the crease of Alex’s thigh, and Alex arches up into it.
“Do you want to open me up?” Henry asks.
“God. Yeah.”
So Henry rolls them over and talks Alex through it, telling him what feels good, when to speed up and when to give him more. Henry’s voice, low and firm, telling him exactly how he likes it, is hotter than Alex could have imagined. Alex is captivated by it all, the feel of Henry surrounding him, the way his expression twists up in pleasure and desire, the strained quality his voice takes on when Alex is pulsing three fingers into him.
Henry lets out a little gasp. “That’s enough. I’m ready.”
Alex’s fingers shake a little when he rolls the condom on. Henry catches him by the wrist, steadying him, and when Alex looks up, Henry is gorgeous and wanting.
It’s all tight heat and friction, Alex’s forehead pressed to Henry’s. He’s not sure he’s ever felt close to anyone like this before, and he knows it’s not just the sex, not just the place where their bodies meet. Alex spends a lot of time working towards what he wants to be. A good student, a good son, an author whose work matters, a lawyer who can really help people.
Henry makes him feel like who he is right now, some messy combination of everything he wants, is already enough.
He links his fingers through Henry’s and pushes into him again and again, and when Henry comes, it’s with a breath of laughter against Alex’s lips. Alex thinks it’s the most beautiful sound in the world.
–
When he wakes up, there’s gentle morning light slotting through the blinds, the ever-present sounds of the city rumbling in the background.
Henry’s still asleep, curled up against Alex’s side, a bare shoulder peeking out from above the sheets. Alex leans over and presses his lips to the skin there, pulling himself in closer and letting his eyes flutter back shut.
He probably has a lot of work to get done. He always has a lot of work to get done.
Later, he’ll call Zahra to run through his outline for his next draft. But right now, he’s content to stroke soft fingers through his boyfriend’s hair and maybe sleep in a while longer.