Chapter Text
"Zendagi az to, marg az ma
Rahaati az to, narahaati az man
Khushi az to, ghaam az man
Hame chiz az to
Vali to az man."
"Life is yours, death is mine
Peace is yours, stress is mine
Happiness is yours, sorrow is mine
Everything is yours
But you are mine."
“Alright now, stop bouncing your knee. You are making me nervous too.” Henry says, loosening his tie a bit.
“Well, I'm sorry for being nervous, your majesty.”
They are sitting in the back of their car, and Henry can't help but feel a warmth rush through his heart that Alex is nervous on his behalf. They are on their way to the Booker Prize Ceremony, and if Alex wasn't looking so goddamn handsome in that navy blue suit, Henry would be nervous too.
It still doesn't feel real. It seems like only yesterday when Henry was looking into dystopian novels to draw some inspiration from and also because his own life felt so close to that dystopia. Now, here he is, living a life that he could only have dreamt of.
In the past two years, a lot of things have happened. Henry didn't just write a book and publish it, but he was also able to open two LGBTQIA Youth Centers in partnership with Percy and (he still can't believe this) Philip. One in London and the other in New York. Henry has to admit that it was difficult at first to forgive Philip for everything he had done, but seeing him try so hard and actually doing something substantial in the direction of a cause so important to Henry was endearing. It had always been Henry's wish to turn his dad's house into a shelter, and he was immensely grateful for the support shown by Philip in this regard. They have come so far, and things are only going to get better, Henry hopes.
Right now, everything feels elusive, like a daydream.
He comes back from his thoughts when the car stops to a halt, having reached its destination. Alex squeezes Henry's hand three times, a silent I love you.
“No matter what happens in there, I want you to know that I'm so fucking proud of you. I always have. Even when you were just my boyfriend and not the most celebrated author of the decade.”
“Thank you, darling.” Henry can't cry at this moment because he'll risk ruining the concealer June has so meticulously put underneath his eyes. “I love you so much.”
And then they are kissing. It's not soft. It's a fully blown makeout because, as Henry mentioned earlier, Alex looks goddamn lethal in that stupid suit. They only stop when Nora knocks on their car window incessantly, and Bea calls them disgustingly insufferable.
Alex and Henry had traveled in their own car while June, Pez, Nora, and Bea came in another. They arrive at Old Billingsgate fifty minutes before the winner is set to be announced. The place is buzzing with energy. Henry is ushered into doing an interview on the red carpet while the tribe makes their way inside.
He knows the interviewer. Jack Edwards. Henry has read many books based on his recommendations, and it feels surreal to be getting interviewed by him.
“Hello, Henry, so nice to finally meet you. How are you feeling today?” Jack asks excitedly.
“Very nervous. Very excited. Endlessly grateful to just exist in the same vicinity as some of the people I'm seeing here.” Henry says breathlessly. He thanks himself for choosing a career that doesn't require him being on camera because that wouldn't have turned out well for anyone.
Henry answers a string of questions about his life after the nominations and about his book in general.
“Your book is obviously fiction, but are there any real-life instances that are similar to what you have written in the book?” The interviewer asks in a curious tone.
“Oh, there are many. Although I can't tell which ones because it's very personal to me. But I can tell you one thing: every time you see the main character waxing poetic about his lover, it's usually my own feelings about my boyfriend, Alex. He's the inspiration behind everything romantic in the book, I must say.”
“That's lovely. I mean, we have seen the Instagram pictures, and well, let's say it's not a surprise that he's the inspiration behind it.”
They both laugh at that because, of course, Alex is beautiful, and everyone knows that; everyone sees that.
“So, Henry,” Jack continues, “today we have a very talented actor with us to recite a few lines from your book. Are you ready for it?”
“Oh yes! I have been waiting for that. I'm so excited!”
Henry knew about this beforehand. They had chosen a paragraph from Henry's novel where August describes to his sister the very first time he saw Harper in the surveillance room.
Jack turns towards the camera with a big smile on his face. “The next reading we have here is by the young and promising actor Nicholas Galitzine, and this is from the book ‘Notes From an Amorist’.
“I never believed in love, Liz.” The actor begins. “So, you can only imagine how much I did not believe in love at first sight. That is until I saw him, of course.” It feels unreal having the lines of August recited by someone who looks exactly like what Henry imagined August to look like. Long, brown hair, fuller lips, brown eyes, long limbs, and pale skin. If they were to ever make a movie on his book (there have been talks), Henry thinks Nicholas would be the perfect casting for August. He decides to tell him so if he meets him.
"Then, by some cosmic miracle, I had the opportunity to spend some time with him. However ephemeral it was, that time I spent in his vicinity is my most prized possession. I always thought that if love does, in fact, exist, it would come to me as some big revelation. But no, I realized I loved him the moment his eyes met mine. And I love him despite everything, Liz. I love him despite the rage of our mother. I love him despite my incarceration. I love him despite the knowledge that we will never be together. And yet, you know what's completely earth-shattering? He loves me too. I am someone whose presence he barely used to tolerate, but now he loves me. Christ, you have no idea what it is like to bask in the glow of his love. I know I don't deserve it, but now that I have it, I'm scared of losing it. I'm more scared of losing him than I am of losing myself to death.”
When the act ends, Henry is still transfixed. He didn't think hearing his own words performed would affect him in such a way, but there's a first time for everything.
After giving two more interviews, Henry makes his way inside, where he easily spots Alex and the others sitting on their table. When he sits down, Alex's hand finds his, and he holds it tightly, giving a reassuring smile to Henry. Henry smiles back.
The ceremony starts without much fanfare. He can already spot his favorite authors in the audience. Henry makes a mental note to approach them after the ceremony. He feels a sense of community with these people. This is one of the very few places where Henry feels like he belongs.
“Let's welcome Damon Galgut to announce this year's Booker Prize Winner.”
Oh god.
Henry feels his mouth go dry and his heartbeat increasing. He has the desire to flee at the moment, but then there's a press of warm hands, and Henry catches Alex's eyes.
‘I love you,’ Alex mouths.
And god, Henry will never love anyone like he loves him. His heart rate becomes somewhat normal with the realization that he has already won. He has the love of his life sitting beside him, and nothing else in the damn world matters.
“You know the guy reading the lines from your book looks freakishly like you.” Alex says in a whisper. “Give him a blonde wig and blue lenses, and we'll have a twin for you.”
“Shut up, will you? Besides, he's way more handsome than I am.”
“Woah, woah, woah. How dare you say that about my beautiful and annoyingly hot boyfriend?”
Henry smiles, a blush rising to his cheeks. He goes on to retort with something clever but his words die out as the author comes on stage.
“Stories are important.” Damon begins. “They have the power to change things. History is evidence of that. I am in awe of every book that's nominated this year. They tell stories that are important. Stories that have the potential to change the world. To pull ourselves from the valleys of darkness and towards a better and brighter future. All these novels aim to do exactly that and successfully so.
“As a jury, we sought a novel that moved us and made us understand that we are so much more than the barriers that society has constructed for us. A novel that shook us from our very core but managed to keep us hopeful all the same.
“Now, it is my immense pleasure to announce that the winner of the Booker Prize 2022 is...”
Silence .
“ Notes from an Amorist by Henry Fox.”
“Let's fucking go!!!” He hears Pez scream beside him.
He can see through his peripheral vision people standing, and a sound of clapping and cheers comes from what feels like miles away.
In a blink of seconds, his vision clears, and he sees Alex's face in front of him, leaning and cupping Henry's face.
“You did it, baby.” He whispers. Henry sees the tears in his eyes and can feel his own eyes stinging. “You fucking did it.”
“Really?” He asks dumbly.
Alex chuckles wetly. “Yeah.”
That's all it takes for Henry to stand and pull Alex into a hug. “I love you.” He whispers.
“I love you more.” He says, unwrapping himself from Henry's embrace, and beams at him.
Henry hugs everyone before getting up to the stage. With shaky legs, he somehow makes it to the podium without embarrassing himself. He's handed the trophy, and somehow it feels heavier in his hands than it is.
“Wow, I was not prepared for this at all.” Henry hears himself saying into the mic. “Unlike one of the characters in my novel, I did teach myself to control my hopes.” He takes a deep breath. “Okay, I can do this. I'm not going to embarrass myself and make the jury regret its decision.” There's a ripple of laughter, and Henry can feel himself relaxing.
“First of all, I want to say, this one's for you, dad. I miss you every day, and I love you.” He looks up while saying this, and although he doesn't see Orion, he hopes the message reaches nonetheless. “I want to thank my biggest support, my sister. I don't know where I would be without her.” His eyes spot Bea, who is crying and holding a phone in his direction. “She's on the phone with who I can only assume is my mother and brother. I want to tell them that I love you both so much. You were there for me when I needed you the most. Thank you for that.
“I am also blessed with the greatest group of friends anyone could ask for. My best mate Pez, who believed in me with this book and opened the doors of his publishing house for me. Nora and June, who are like sisters to me. I can't thank you enough for accepting me and loving me as family.
“Now, I want to thank the most important person in my life. My muse, my love—Alex. He's very easy to spot if you are looking for him. At my table, the one who is sobbing like a child, yes, that's him.” Henry chuckles wetly. He can see Alex laughing as the tears spill from his eyes and he wipes them fervently. His eyes meet Alex's, and the world around him fades away. “Alex, in my writings, in my prose and poetry, I dreamt of someone like you before I even met you. Thank you for everything you have done, my darling. For being there with me every step of the way. This book, this award, and everything else in my life, including myself, is dedicated to you. Light of my eyes, light of my world—that's what you are, light of my life. Thank you! Thank you!” Henry breathes finally and wipes his tears with the back of his hand.
The rest of the evening passes in a blur, a string of interviews and congratulations from people that he has grown to admire all his life.
They take the flight home the very same day to New York.
The next day the six of them have dinner together. Nora and Alex fight over the last piece of garlic naan. June, Nora, and Pez keep flirting relentlessly throughout the night, and Alex makes a gagging sound every chance he gets. Then there's Bea, who is telling Henry that Philip was crying uncontrollably on the video call throughout his speech. Truth be told, this is one of the happiest days of Henry's life. He feels blessed to have this, to have them.
“Okay, what kind of surprise requires me to climb so many stairs with a blindfold on?” Alex says as he stops to catch his breath.
Henry pulls his hand to make him continue walking. “You'll find out if you stop halting after every five seconds. Come on, now, only seven more steps to go.”
“Baby, if this is a sex thing, I want to let you know that I'm totally in.”
“Shut up, you reprobate. It's not a sex thing.”
“That sucks.”
After dinner, the moment they had stepped in the car, Henry had blindfolded Alex. He has been planning this for a month now. He has never been this excited and nervous for anything in his life.
They arrive in front of the door that Henry is all too familiar with. He opens it gently and pulls Alex inside. With careful steps, he makes his way behind Alex to remove the blindfold.
“Oh my god!” Alex exclaims as he takes the view in. “It's our apartment. Our first one!”
If Henry was about to do the most important thing in his life, he might as well do it at the place where it all started. This flat had always been special to him. Not because of the flat itself, but the memories associated with it. This is the place where he fell in love with him, and this will be the place where he asks Alex to marry him.
Alex is still looking around when Henry slowly bends down on one knee behind him, just like he had two years ago in June's flat. He takes out the small navy blue box from his pocket that had been resting in one of his suit pockets for six months.
“Baby, this is awesome. What are we…”
“Alex?” Henry whispers and he finally turns around. His eyes go comically wide at once, and he sucks in a quick breath.
“Henry.” He breaths.
“Alex, I'll try not to cry and get through this speech, okay?” Henry's eyes follow the single tear that falls off Alex's eyes as he smiles and nods fervently. Henry closes his eyes for a second, takes a breath, and then begins. “Alex, meeting you three years ago felt like homecoming. Like I was in a battle for the longest time, and then in a blink I was at home, in your arms, in your bed, holding your hand. You make me want to kneel in front of every altar, to light a candle in every temple, to visit every mosque, and to thank God for giving me you. I love you so fucking much. I never imagined, even in my wildest dreams, that someone like you would ever love me. But you had the audacity to do exactly that. I will always be grateful for that.
"Now, since I am on my knees and you are required to say yes when I am in this position, Alex, baby, will you marry me?”
“Shut your damn mouth.” His lips quiver into a wide smile, and laughter bubbles up through his sobs as he kneels to mirror Henry. Alex pulls Henry by the nape of his neck into a not-so-gentle kiss.
When they break apart, their foreheads are still joined together, tears falling without any restraint. “You didn't answer my question.”
“Yes, you asshole. A thousand times yes, baby. I love you so much.” Alex cries as he pulls Henry into another kiss.
“Okay, how am I supposed to put this ring on your finger when you keep kissing me?” Henry says when they pull apart.
Alex laughs and then brings his left hand forward. Henry slides the glinting silver ring onto his finger. It looks perfect, right where it belongs.
Henry maneuvers them up from where they are sitting to the couch.
“Wait, when did you bring this couch here? Wasn't it in the spare room? And why is the apartment so empty? Does no one live here?”
Henry is lying on the couch, Alex on top of him, his head carefully tucked into Henry's neck.
“Uh. I might or might not have bought this flat. And the couch is mainly for me to fuck you in it.”
Alex visibly shudders. He raises his head to look at Henry. “We are coming back to what you said about fucking me. But firstly, what the fuck? When did you buy it?”
“I always wanted to buy this place. It's special to me because I met you here. We created a life here first.” Henry takes Alex's hand in his and kisses the ring finger. “I don't know what I'll do with it, but it is ours again.”
Alex smiles at him and drops a gentle kiss on his lips. “I love you, baby, but you totally wrecked my plan of proposing to you tonight.”
What?
“What?”
Alex laughs. “Yeah. While we were having dinner, Liam and Spencer were decorating our living room in the way I asked them to. That reminds me, I have to text them.”
There's no reason for Henry to be shocked that Alex was already planning to propose Henry as well. He always talks about marriage and as far as Henry is concerned, he has always been in favour of marrying Alex Claremont-Diaz since the moment he met him.
“So, where's my ring?” Henry asks in a teasing tone.
“In my study. Although right now it must be on the mantle in our living room.” He then looks directly into Henry's eyes. There's a hint of redness around his eyes, and Henry feels all the air leaving his lungs under his gaze. “I can't wait to put it on you. Make you mine.”
“I am already yours, love. Eternally so.”
Hours later, Henry does fuck Alex into the couch, lips attached to each other the entire time with an incessant flow of I love yous.
A few more hours later, Henry wakes up to Gloria Estefan playing on the phone and Alex humming in the kitchen as he puts out two croissants on paper plates.
Henry thinks exactly what he thought almost two years ago.
Let the morning never end. Let him never leave my life.