Chapter Text
Alex needs to finish packing.
It’s absurd that he’s spent days tossing things into his suitcase and has somehow found himself staring at a mess that he still needs to shove into his bag before tomorrow afternoon.
His suitcase isn’t ready.
The car isn’t ready.
Alex isn’t fucking ready.
But he doesn’t want to be, either.
Even now, he’s sitting on the balcony instead of making any progress, his phone tucked underneath his thigh so he won’t be tempted to check and see if there’s anything new lighting up his notifications.
He knows there isn’t and that continuing to check isn’t going to make a difference. Every time he looks, he’s only breaking off another piece of his heart, another fragment of himself that might stay here on the Gulf shores, forever waiting on something that won’t happen.
Maybe one day they’ll set up a fucking exhibit and give Alex commission on the tickets they sell. Alex can envision the spectacle, the crowd of people with their phones out snapping pictures of his fractured heart, hoping to capture a glimpse of his ghostly soul that he’s leaving behind.
The image is so ridiculous, it almost makes Alex smile.
The sun is sitting just over the horizon in front of him and slowly rising, partly shielded by a few scattered clouds. Alex guesses it’s probably around seven-thirty based on its location.
But because he’s trying not to look at his phone, he can’t be entirely sure.
There are muffled sounds coming from inside of the house, evidence of June and Nora waking up. They’ll join him soon, drawn in his direction by the impending nostalgia of another summer passing by and a desire to soothe Alex’s perpetual state of misery.
Alex drinks his coffee and waits, letting himself replay his most recent alternate reality in his head. It came to him in a dream last night, a gentle spark in his unconscious mind that had lulled him deeper and left him anguished and reeling when he blinked his eyes open to find that none of it was real.
In this one, he and Henry are still curled up in bed right now, sad about their upcoming separation but prepared to take on the challenge together. They have trips planned out, weekend visits and holidays to spend together and plane tickets already booked in their dedication to see this through.
Alex lets his eyes drift shut and pictures them tangled in bare limbs and soft sheets, sharing lazy kisses and promises that they know they’ll keep. He can almost feel Henry’s lips against his skin, hear him mumbling about scratchy stubble as he nuzzles into Alex’s cheek.
When his eyelids blink back open, Alex is left with a hollow ache in his bones, an extension of the constant twist in his chest. He wonders how long he’ll have to live with that hurt, if he’ll carry it around with him forever like a scar that no one can see.
The balcony door slides open behind him, June and Nora slipping out and settling on chairs next to him. It’s quiet for a long moment, both of them taking small sips of their coffees and staring out at the rising sun.
June is the first to speak. “Still nothing?”
Alex shakes his head. “I think it’s time I give up.”
“If he’d just give you a chance,” Nora says, frowning out at the ocean. “Or if you could even fucking track him down, I swear. Your stubbornness has worn down will power a lot tougher than Henry’s.”
“It’s kinda what I was counting on,” Alex replies. “But I can’t even get him to listen, much less…” He trails off, placing his cup down on the deck beside him and sighing. “I’m not sure any level of determination is going to get me through this one.”
“That’s one for the goddamn history books,” Nora mutters, looking pensive. “I never thought I’d see the day.”
“I was faced with a worthy opponent, and I put up a good fight.” Alex chews on the inside of his cheek, staring down at his lap. “But I may have to concede.”
“But you love him,” June argues, making Alex’s chest constrict so tightly that he nearly doubles over at the pain. “You know that, right? Please tell me you fucking know that.”
“I—” Alex’s argument dies on his tongue, the gut reaction to deflect quickly evaporating.
Because he does.
He knows he does.
Thinking back on it feels like a rush, like leaping off the edge of the pier and discovering that the water was a bit further down than it looked. He fell in love quickly, but he couldn't pinpoint an exact moment it had happened—he was already so far underneath the surface by the time he realized he had landed in the water.
But he’s there now, undeniably, definitively.
Permanently.
Alex thinks his love for Henry has settled into those cracks that might always exist in his heart, taking up all of the empty space that Alex never knew how to handle. But the sharp edges of everything that he feels are digging unintentionally into those sore wounds and making him ache.
The love doesn’t have anywhere else to go, because it’s as much a part of him as the heart it’s tucked away in.
Maybe the love is solely responsible for his heart continuing to beat, and Alex would die without it. As much as it hurts now—and it really fucking does—there are parts of him that feel different, healed in ways that he doesn’t completely understand.
He’s filled with grief because it’s over.
He’s overwhelmed with gratitude because it happened.
Both sentiments exist within him simultaneously, two sides of the same coin. One wouldn’t be able to occur without the other.
He may never see Henry again and have to live with some version of that pain forever, but the love itself is pure and beautiful, like a sunny day beside the clearest water. Maybe in time, that will be the stronger emotion tied to the memories he has of this summer, the dull ache overpowered by gentle fondness and sacred admiration.
Alex glances at June. “I’ve only known him three months.”
June raises an eyebrow. “Do you, of all people, really think that matters?”
No.
“I… doesn’t it have to?” Alex asks.
“It's weird,” June says, staring out at the ocean as if she isn't even talking to Alex anymore. “We've met so many people here over the years—friends, lovers, disturbing grocery store clerks—”
Nora cuts in. “Patrice will always live on in the depths of my heart, and you cannot take her from me.”
“—but no one's ever… fit you like he does,” June continues as if no one said a word. “He's like your perfect match.”
Alex scoffs. “Who won’t even text me back and is literally hiding from me when I try to stop by.”
“Allegedly,” Nora counters, wrinkling her nose. “We couldn’t get the Amazon delivery driver to stop by and check without him having a package to drop off.”
“I still can’t believe Amazon is above bribery,” June mutters. “Who would’ve thought?”
“Even if he would talk to me and give me a chance, it would be me, what? Either giving up on my career or doing a long distance relationship, right?” Alex swallows, leaning his head back against the wall of the house. “I wish I could just, like… pack him up in my suitcase and take him with me.”
Nora makes a strange sound. “I mean, you could.”
“Nora, I’m not putting a grown man in my suitcase,” Alex tells her. “I’m pretty sure that’s fucking illegal.”
“But you’re going to be a lawyer, so you’ll get away with it.”
“Yeah, that’s not how that works,” June says, rolling her eyes.
Nora mimics the action, drawing an affectionate glare out of June. “I didn’t mean the literal suitcase idea, you fucking assholes. I meant… taking him with you.”
It’s too early for Alex to be getting a goddamn headache, and it feels unfair to add another part of his body to the list of things in agony. “What do you mean?”
“I mean,” Nora starts, sounding exasperated. “You staying here and long distance aren’t the only options. He can go to New York, too, right?”
“He can’t—” Alex stops short, considering.
“He could,” Nora says when Alex doesn’t continue.
“Well.” June hesitates, worrying her bottom lip between her teeth. “Would he?”
“She’s right,” Alex points out. “He won’t even talk to me, so I don’t think it matters.”
But as silence stretches between the three of them, Alex can envision it.
Early morning coffee runs. Studying for exams with Henry next to him, reading or writing or watching some goofy British television show. Stopping by Henry’s place after classes and kissing him at the door. Double dates with June and Nora. Walking David in Central Park.
They would get to argue over silly things and have makeup sex on the living room floor, find bookstores so big that Henry is on the verge of a heart attack, live as the best versions of themselves and fall more in love with every day that passes.
It would be an entire life together in a city so big, no one would ever really know who they are. They could just… be.
The more he imagines it, the more Alex thinks that Henry would love it.
If only any of that fucking mattered.
“I should finish packing,” Alex says, shattering the quiet.
June opens her mouth as if she might say something else, but in the end, she only nods. “Okay. Let us know if you need any help.”
“Like stuffing a body in a suitcase, dead or alive!” Nora calls as Alex closes the door.
Alex trudges into his room, glancing around his floor at the organized disaster of his wardrobe. He has piles categorized by clothing type, a few wayward scatterings of underwear or swim trunks that don’t have an exact place. Truthfully, he isn’t quite sure what’s actually clean or dirty or somewhere in between.
There may be merit in setting fire to it all and starting over fresh.
He only considers it for a moment.
Maybe two.
He starts in one corner, conducting efficient sniff tests of various articles of clothing and beginning to reorganize his piles. Some get tossed on the laundry room floor and others make it into one side of his suitcase with some of his other miscellaneous toiletries and knickknacks.
Alex is checking inside the drawer of his nightstand for anything he needs to take back with him when he sees it.
The shell from his first date with Henry is still sitting next to his lamp, as pristine as it was the day they found it. It brings his entire train of thought to a screeching halt, his breath held in his lungs as he reaches to pick it up.
It feels lightweight and fragile as Alex holds it, carefully turning it over a few times in his hands. The surface is smooth against his palm, his fingertips gliding easily across the gentle swirls of brown that decorate the off-white surface.
Alex closes his eyes, and he relives that night in his mind.
He can still feel Henry’s hand against his, their fingers tangled together as they walked along the water’s edge, their two heartbeats pulsing to the rhythm of the waves that swept onto the shore.
Henry’s laugh is still a permanent fixture in his mind, a beautiful symphony of sound that the greatest composers would envy.
He can still taste Henry’s kiss, the way the world paused the moment their lips brushed. They were suspended in that moment of time while something in Alex's DNA was rewritten, Henry's name woven into the genetic code, leaving Alex irreversibly changed.
But most of all, he can still see Henry’s smile, the flush on his cheeks, the way the setting sun illuminated him in an ethereal glow, as if he were Alex’s own personal angel, his saving grace.
Because he was.
Is.
When Alex first saw him months ago, he thought that Henry looked lost. He wondered if Henry needed someone to rescue him from whatever storm was raging in his life.
And maybe Henry did need saving.
But Alex did, too.
He didn’t realize it at the time, but in holding out a hand to Henry, who was struggling against a violent current and trying to keep his head above water, Alex kept himself afloat, too. He has no idea what would have happened to him if he hadn’t been thrust into the same torrent with Henry, if they hadn’t been given the opportunity to cling to each other as the waves tried to overtake them, if they hadn’t saved each other in the process of saving themselves.
Except now, Alex is in love and rejected, unable to breathe even though he’s no longer caught within those rocky seas.
Now, Alex is looking at a small shell in his palm that means everything to him and considering what to do with it. He doesn’t know whether he should keep it as a memento or take it back to the beach and leave it amongst the sand that saw their story begin, unfold, and end all within a few months.
Both of those options fucking suck.
Alex wants forever.
At least a chance of forever.
He didn’t haul both of their asses out of the goddamn water just to fucking give up this easily.
If they’re going to be over, Henry is at least going to hear him out.
Alex won’t leave until he does.
He walks into the kitchen, the edges of the shell digging into his clenched fist.
“I have to find him. I can’t just go without talking to him.”
“Thank God,” Nora says, putting one hand on June’s shoulder and another over her heart. “Letting you come to realizations on your own is really going to start messing with my health. I’m billing you when I have a fucking heart attack.”
Sometimes, Alex thinks he never properly learned how to speak Nora’s language. “What?”
Nora blows out a heavy breath. “June said we couldn’t meddle, but dude. You gotta go find him.”
Alex blinks. “I just said that.”
“Exactly, and I’m so proud of you for that.” Nora grins. “Now, I have some options.”
When Alex looks at June, she presses her mouth into a flat line, clearly trying to hide a smile. “I told her that you had to come to the conclusion yourself before she could share her thoughts.”
“And she listened?”
“We all must learn and grow, or some shit,” Nora says, standing and beginning to pace. “Okay, so all we know is that he hasn’t been at the normal stretch of beach or at his rental place when you’ve gone by, right?”
“Ri—”
“Right,” Nora interrupts. “So I figure he’s either at the pier somewhere—”
“Not likely,” June points out.
“—somewhere outdoors with his dog—”
Alex shakes his head. “Not for a prolonged period of time. David lives his life more like an indoor cat than a dog.”
“—or he could be—”
“The library,” Alex says reflexively before she can finish, feeling silly that he hasn’t already thought of it. “It’s—he loves it. If he didn’t want to be at home and wanted to read or write or anything, that’s the best place in town to do it that doesn’t have sand everywhere.”
June nods quickly. “No, that makes sense.”
“I was going to say that next,” Nora sighs, wrinkling her nose at Alex. “Why won’t you let me have nice things?”
“Sorry?”
Nora rolls her eyes. “Well, the fuck are you waiting for? Go get him, Romeo.”
Alex’s heart is entirely in his throat, but his feet are already pushing him in that direction, the force stronger than any current he’s ever been caught in.
The library is an eight minute walk from the beach house on a typical day, and Alex spends the entire six minutes that it takes him to get there rehearsing things to say in his mind, ticking off a list: apologize, confess feelings, ask Henry to be with him, bring up New York as an option, make sure Henry knows that Alex is willing to put in effort to make this work regardless.
Each one feels like its own separate battle, and Alex has to win every previous conflict in order for the next ones to have a chance to of success.
And God, he’s sick with how much he wants this to work.
Alex spent weeks studying for the LSAT, applied to thirteen different schools but spent the entire time hoping for one in New York City, stayed awake for nearly three days straight before decisions were released so that he could plan next steps and backup plans, all of that anxiety keeping him in a nonstop state of agitated consciousness.
But this might be the most wound up he’s ever felt.
This feels like the most important thing he’ll ever do.
The facade of the library is large and intimidating as Alex approaches, still whispering practiced phrases. There’s a bronze statue of a bird off to one side, fake fossils leading up the path to the entrance.
The bird feels like it’s judging him, but Alex pointedly looks away from it as he steels himself.
He can do this.
He’s pretty sure he can do this.
Taking a measured breath, Alex opens the door.
His confidence plummets the second he sees Henry.
As many days as he spent desperately looking for any signs of him, Alex finds him immediately when he scans the space, his eyes catching on broad shoulders and blonde hair. He thinks his heart skips or stops completely, the overwhelming swell of emotion that hits him directly in his solar plexus rendering him unable to move for nearly a minute.
He’s here, curled into a chair in a corner and reading a book. His hair is disheveled, the corners of his mouth curled downward, the skin between his brows deeply pinched.
He looks tired, and guilt gnaws at Alex while Henry sighs, turning a page in his book as if that action alone takes nearly all of his remaining energy.
But he’s here.
And now Alex has to do this.
It’s no longer a hypothetical based on the increasingly slim odds that Henry will text him back, no longer a possibility dependent on whether or not Alex will ever get the chance.
The chance is here and now, and Alex figures Henry is as likely to reject him again as he is to actually listen to him for more than sixty seconds.
Alex inhales slowly, blowing out the breath through his mouth. He slides his hand into the pocket of his shorts, fingers wrapping around the shell and squeezing tight.
He has to try to fix this.
Because even though Henry was the one to walk away, Alex didn’t do anything to stop him.
Instead, he let it confirm what he’s always thought, that people are as predictable as the ocean. In the same way that the water swoops in and destroys sandcastles and takes any belongings that it can reach before it escapes, people show up and take dreams and hopes and affections before they disappear.
Except Alex was wrong, in a way.
It’s true that the tide is always destined to go out, to abandon its shore the same way that it rushed in.
But it always comes back, too.
“Henry?”
Henry’s head snaps up at Alex’s voice, his mouth dropping open as his eyes widen. He’s quick to school his facial features into a more neutral expression, hiding that flash of feeling that Alex saw.
And then he looks pointedly back down at his open book. “You should go.”
Alex recoils like he’s been dealt a physical blow, forcing back the urge to bolt right back out the door at the first indication that he’s made a fatal mistake.
He’s already in the water. He may as well try to swim.
“Been trying to get in contact with you for a while,” Alex says, wringing his hands together. “You, uh… haven’t responded.”
“I’m aware of that.”
Right.
Alex pushes on. “I just want five minutes, tops.”
“Shouldn’t you be getting ready to leave?” Henry asks, still not looking up.
“Kinda, yeah,” Alex tells him, taking another step forward. “I just have something else that’s more important right now.”
Henry hums. “Well, if you’re checking out a book, you really should verify their return policy. I imagine it will be difficult to get it back in a timely manner when you’re in New York.”
It would be easy to dismiss Henry’s cold facade as genuine lack of caring, but there’s a pinch on his forehead between his eyebrows, one at the corner of his mouth. He won’t meet Alex’s gaze, staring resolutely down at the novel in his hands even though he hasn’t turned a page since Alex made his presence known. His eyes are glued to the same spot, unmoving.
“I know I hurt you,” Alex says, feeling the sting of tears in his eyes. “But I really wanted to… apologize, and I think I’m… I’m ready to have that talk, now.”
Henry’s jaw clenches. “There isn’t anything to talk about.”
“There is,” Alex replies, biting back a wince as his own words are hurled back at him. “I know I fucked up, but I want to talk about us, about where we go from here.”
“You’re going to leave,” Henry states, blinking quickly. “I don’t want to be an impulsive choice that you make now simply because you are under some ill-conceived notion that you miss me. It will pass. Just go. Make the world a better place, like you’ve dreamt of.”
“What if I want you to make it better with me?”
“Alex.” Henry’s eyes shutter closed, his face twisting like he’s in pain. “Please don’t do this to me.”
“If I don’t do this, it’s going to haunt me for the rest of my fucking life, Henry.” Alex’s voice wobbles; his entire body feels exposed and shaky, back in that relentless current and fighting to survive. “If there is any part of you that ever wanted to see if we could make this work, I am begging you for five minutes of your time.”
Henry finally looks up at him, a light shine evident in the whites of his eyes. He doesn’t say no right away, though, and his hesitation feels like water being cleared from Alex’s lungs, a breath of life surging through him.
“Five minutes,” he promises, meeting Henry’s gaze with every bit of his heart on his sleeve, on his face, thrown on the floor at Henry’s feet. “Just hear me out, baby. Please.”
There’s a pause, the lull in their conversation magnified by the quiet around them.
Henry is still frowning, but he slides a bookmark into the book he was reading and closes it.
He nods. “Five minutes.”
Alex glances at the few other patrons around them. “Outside, maybe?”
“Okay,” Henry says, setting his book to the side and standing.
It brings them nearly chest to chest, and Alex sways into Henry’s orbit, drawn in easily in the same way he always has been. Henry blinks down at him, his face carefully composed as they stare at each other.
“Outside?” Henry asks, tilting his head.
“Shit, right, uh.” Alex bobs his head. “Yeah, come on.”
As they walk through the door, Alex goes over the quick list in his head again.
Apologize. Feelings. Together. New York.
And if those fall short, beg.
Underneath the breezeway in the muggy Texas air, Henry turns to face Alex and waits.
Alex looks up into Henry’s blue eyes, at the heartache he can see reflected back at him even through the feigned indifference. He suddenly doesn’t remember all of the things he was supposed to say, rehearsed words lost somewhere in the depths of Henry’s gaze.
But he has to say something.
He has to say something.
“I don’t want us to be over,” is what he finds, the truest sentiment that he has.
“Yet, right?” Henry asks, his tone cold.
“Ever,” Alex counters. “I don’t want us to be over ever.”
Henry’s gaze casts downward, and he shakes his head. “Don’t say things you don’t mean.”
Alex’s heart stretches from within the confines of his ribcage, toward Henry’s hurt that is seeping through the air between them. It combines with Alex's existing ache and stings, lodging with the guilt already in Alex’s throat and making it hard for him to breathe again.
And if he can’t breathe, he’s going to panic.
And if he panics, he’s going to say the wrong thing.
And if he says the wrong thing, he might lose this.
“I’m sorry,” Alex croaks, trying to blink away the burn in his eyes. “I know I made you think that I don’t care, but it’s the opposite, I swear. I thought you wanted to talk about when we were going to be done, like you were going to set an exact date or talk about how we should fucking say goodbye. And I couldn’t handle it. I freaked out, because I didn’t want to do that. But I thought…”
He trails off, losing himself in the middle of the sentence.
Henry shakes his head, something warm flirting around the edges of his eyes.
“I wanted to talk about how we could… still see each other.”
Alex almost sobs with relief, embers of hope flickering back to life in his chest.
“I was so sure that you didn’t feel the same way,” Alex continues, his breath trembling. “I broke my own heart so that you wouldn’t have a chance.”
“But you were right, in a way,” Henry says, sounding sad. “And this doesn’t change that. You have to go be who you’re going to be. I can’t hold you back from that, and if you’re gallivanting across the country at every opportunity, then you won’t be able to be that best version of yourself.”
Henry’s icy demeanor, which had momentarily thawed, freezes back into place, and his words make it sound like Alex may already be too late. This conversation should have happened weeks ago, curled up together and naked on a beach. Alex might have ruined everything when he tossed a grenade into their last evening together.
But he still has to try.
“I might have a solution to that.”
Henry seems skeptical, but he says, “And what is that?”
“Well,” Alex continues in a rush, not wanting the moment to be ripped out from under him. “You said you landed here randomly.”
“I did.”
“Right.” Alex nods. “So something brought you to me.”
Henry’s brow furrows. “A plane and a bus.”
“No,” Alex presses, taking a step closer and hearing Henry’s breath catch. “Something brought you to me.”
There’s the smallest twitch of Henry’s lips, another ripple of feeling beneath the cold performance before it slides back into place. “Semantics.”
Alex swallows. “But you don’t have roots anywhere yet.”
That twists his features, a frown pulling down the corners of Henry’s mouth. “Lovely reminder, thank you.”
“And you kind of hate it here,” Alex says slowly. “Like, the fucking beach was not one of your finer choices when it comes to environment, and it’s too small for you to be the invisible and anonymous person that you want to be.”
Henry finally breaks completely, meeting Alex’s gaze with a fire in his eyes. “Christ, Alex, would you like me to get you a knife to make this onslaught easier for you?”
“I’m not trying to hurt you,” Alex tells him, squeezing his hand into a fist to stop himself from reaching out. “I have a point, I swear.”
“Then, please.” Henry sounds exhausted. “Bloody make it.”
“I don’t want to leave you.” Alex reaches out slowly, letting their fingertips brush. “But I do have to go to school in New York. You’re right—that’s my dream right now. It’s where I should be. It’s where I’m going to be.”
“Good,” Henry remarks, nodding quickly. “That’s good. You should go.”
“And I also don’t think I’ll do as well in school if I’m making a thousand trips back here to see you.”
“So you agree that it won’t work?” Henry moves his hand away from Alex’s touch. “And that you deserve better than to be worried about some summer daliance overstaying its welcome?”
“There’s a third option,” Alex says, watching Henry’s eyes flicker with something he doesn’t recognize. Before Henry can attempt a protest, Alex continues. “Come to New York with me.”
Henry physically rears back. “What?”
“If you move to New York, we can stay together. I can go to school and still see you, and you can—”
“Alex.” Henry cuts him off. “That’s… mad. I’m not—”
“Give it six months,” Alex begs hastily, quickly maneuvering to the end of his mental list out of desperation. “If you hate it or hate me or just don’t want to be there anymore, you can go wherever you want, and I won’t stop you. Hell, I’ll fucking help you get where you want to go. But don’t… I know I did it first, but please, don’t give up on us because I was stupid. I’ll probably even do it again, I’m—I tend to fuck up, like, a lot, but… I want you to give us a chance to make it. That’s what I’m asking for.”
Henry’s face softens while Alex is talking, but he still gazes at Alex with cynicism alight on his features. “To be clear, you are asking me to move to New York City.”
“Yes,” Alex says immediately.
“I—I can’t move to New York,” Henry responds, shifting his weight..
Alex closes the distance between them again. “Why not?”
“I—” Henry pauses, blinking rapidly. “I can’t move to New York for you.”
“So don’t do it for me.”
Even as he says it, Alex reaches out and takes Henry’s hand in both of his.
“Do it for you,” he emphasizes. “There are publishing companies and massive libraries and so many people that don’t give a fuck about you. You can just… be, which is what you wanted in the first place. But you wouldn't disappear completely, because I would still see you. I will always see you.”
Henry looks scared. Alex gets it.
“That all sounds very romantic and… fantastical,” Henry says, sniffling.
Alex shrugs one shoulder. “It’s not the craziest thing, right? I think you could be happy there, with or without me, honestly. But I hope you’ll choose to be happy with me.”
Henry’s fingers twist out of Alex’s grasp, putting half a step of space between them again. He seems to consider a random spot on the ground for nearly a minute, biting the inside of his cheek. It leaves Alex to simply watch as his expression shifts, fighting every instinct he has not to keep talking as the silence lingers.
“What if I told you that I don’t feel the same way?” Henry poses, the flat line of his mouth contrasting his pained eyes. “That I don’t think you’re worth moving my entire life for?”
“I guess it would depend,” Alex replies, lifting his chin as he once again moves forward until Henry is within arm’s reach. “Are you saying it because you mean it? Or because it’s a self-sacrificing move and you think that’s what’s best for me?”
Henry doesn’t say anything, but he still won’t meet Alex’s gaze. With a quivering hand, Alex reaches up to cup Henry’s jaw, desperately hoping that he isn’t reading this all wrong.
If he’s wrong, he drowns.
“If you don’t want me,” Alex says, his voice unexpectedly level. “Then tell me to go, Henry. Tell me that you don’t feel the same way, and that you would rather let us end here than take this chance with me. Tell me… that you don’t love me, and I will let you stay here and never fucking bother you again. I swear.”
Alex pauses, taking a breath. “But you’ve gotta say it. You have to tell me that you want me to go.”
There’s moisture pooling on Henry’s lashline when he finally lets their eyes meet, his throat moving as he swallows. He hesitates, his mouth opening as though he might have an argument already poised on his tongue.
But he leans into Alex’s touch.
“I can’t,” he whispers, and Alex catches the tear that slips down his cheek. “I can’t do that.”
“Then don’t.” Alex raises his other hand to properly frame Henry’s face. “I know it’s asking a lot of you, but—”
“Of me?” Henry laughs, quick and humorless. “Alex, love, I could go anywhere right now. As long as they’ll let me bring David, I’m fine. But you’re asking me to come with you to the place you’ve decided to call home. You’re going to end up stuck with me out of some twisted sense of responsibility, all because of a decision that will ultimately be mine.”
“Sweetheart, no.” Alex shakes his head. “I have never been as sure about something as I am about you, so if you think it’s not the right move, then… I’ll admit that I fucking disagree, okay? Because I do think you would love it there. But if you want to stay here for whatever reason, that’s fine. I can… I’ll fly back as often as I can and visit or you can visit New York. But I’m not… If you want me, I am not letting you go. Not without doing everything I can.”
Henry falls silent as he considers Alex’s words, but Alex's hands still feel firm on his jaw. It’s a lot for anyone to process, so Alex simply waits and watches as Henry slowly lifts both hands and circles his fingers around Alex's wrists.
For a terrifying and devastating few seconds, he thinks that Henry intends to remove Alex's touch from his skin entirely. But then Henry's grip tightens, and he turns his face, pressing a trembling kiss to the heel of Alex's hand.
His words are a whisper against Alex's palm. “You would be willing to do… that long of a distance?”
“For you?” It's an easy answer. “Yes.”
Henry looks down at their feet, his grip on Alex's wrists not loosening. “You would truly do that for me, if it was what I wanted?”
“In a fucking heartbeat, baby.”
“At the risk of your education and career?”
“Without a second thought.”
Another tear slips down Henry’s cheek. “Why?”
And it dawns on Alex that Henry doesn't get it.
All this time—weeks and weeks of them falling in love—and Henry thinks he's disposable. He thinks he's no more vital than all the friends Alex made growing up that disappeared, distant memories that Alex was able to forget. It’s why he accepted Alex’s dismissal so easily, why he ran as though it was the only choice.
Alex was breaking his heart at the same time that Henry was doing the same to his own, both of them terrified of letting the other have the opportunity.
Henry doesn’t understand that Alex would almost call NYU right now and drop out, take a gap year and reassess at the end of it. He would let Henry live in the apartment he’s moving into in two weeks rent-free or spend every dime he has coming to see Henry every weekend.
If it meant they could stay together, Alex would do almost anything.
The words flow past Alex’s lips without a hitch.
“Because I love you.”
He hadn't planned on saying it, mostly because he was worried the sentiment would spook Henry into fleeing again.
But it’s the truth, and Alex needs Henry to know.
“How can you love me?” Henry's voice cracks on the words. “I don't even know who I am.”
“I do,” Alex tells him, smiling. “You are… the kind of person who goes out of their way to make other people smile. You love literature and poetry, and sometimes talk like a character out of fucking Pride and Prejudice because you’re just that much of a goddamn romantic.”
Henry laughs, a wet and choked sound. “I’m only—”
“I’m not done,” Alex says, feeling his grin widen. “You’re inquisitive, but then you actually fucking listen, and you’re so goddamn smart that you pick up the information that people give you and somehow keep all of it in this gorgeous, gorgeous head of yours. You like having sex in places where you could get caught, which I assume is an overcorrection for being shoved in a closet that I would love to continue using for mutually satisfactory purposes. You’re… a terrible swimmer, good at taking care of David, incredible at blow jobs, and you really love it when I call you baby.”
“Oh,” Henry breathes, his cheeks flushing. “That, at the very least, is true.”
“You’re the only person who has ever seen beneath the surface of me and still… stayed. Or wanted to.” Alex swallows, sliding his hands to the back of Henry’s head and arching up on his toes so that their eyes are level. “And I love you. I love you because you are exactly what I needed even if I didn't know it, and now that I've found you, I'll be damned if I let you go without a fucking fight. So, if you want to be with me, that’s all that fucking matters. I will make the rest of it work, I promise.”
Henry closes his eyes, leaning until their foreheads press together. “I think I may have been drowning before I met you,” he says, voice thick with tears as he speaks the words already mirrored on Alex’s soul. “And it’s like you jumped into the water without even thinking about it to save me.”
Alex feels himself gravitating even closer, knowing that he’s taking a risk—Henry hasn’t agreed to a goddamn thing.
But Alex closes that last breath of space between their lips to kiss him.
And he hopes.
Alex has always been pretty idealistic, had high expectations and lofty goals that he always knew he could reach. Something was instilled in him when he was young: anything is possible if you work hard enough at it. Combined with his incessant desire to please other people, it can be dangerous.
But Alex is a bit more realistic now.
He knows that maybe some dreams are too big, like becoming the President or an Olympic gold medalist.
It doesn’t really curb his ambition, though.
There’s never been a vision that rattled around in his brain that he didn’t do everything he could to make happen. Good grades, debate team captain, lacrosse team captain, getting into every college he applied to out of high school—he wanted those things, and he got them.
Henry isn’t an arbitrary finish line or number to be achieved, though. He is a person with his own free will and ambitions.
And Alex feels like he’s done everything that he can do, said everything he can say.
All that’s left is hope.
So he nearly shatters when Henry kisses him back.
Tears burn behind his closed eyelids as Henry's lips move against his, his hands settling on Alex's waist and pulling him closer. Their bodies are pressed together from hip to chest, melting together like ice cream on a Texas summer afternoon.
Alex kisses him and kisses him and kisses him, threading fingers into the soft hair on the back of Henry's head and holding on as tightly as he can. It’s the only confirmation he needs: Henry still wants him.
That’s the only thing that matters. Alex will run himself ragged to figure out everything else.
Or maybe they can do that part together.
“You saved me, too,” Alex tells him, even though Henry must already know. “Three months ago, I felt like the biggest fucking weight was just sitting on my chest and now… I have never felt as steady as I do when I’m with you, like I can actually fucking breathe. Meeting you was the best thing that has ever happened to me.”
Henry kisses him this time, the softest brush of their lips. “I believe you. I’m sorry I was so—”
“Please don’t apologize to me. I might actually fucking lose it.”
“I suppose we both… misunderstood each other,” Henry tells him, fingertips sliding along Alex’s spine.
“Yeah,” Alex says, exhaling a long breath. “Let’s not do that again.”
Alex pulls away enough to look up at Henry, finding his eyes bright and his smile even brighter. It hasn’t been that long since Alex has seen it, but the sight sends a spark through his veins, a pure jolt of happiness.
“What’s that look for?” Alex asks.
“You know.” Henry’s grin is nearly taking up his entire face. “My mate Percy actually does work in New York periodically.”
Alex tilts his head. “Does he?”
“Mhmm,” Henry confirms.
“It's a cool city,” Alex says, watching the minute flickers of expression along the lines of Henry’s face as he tries to feign nonchalance.
Alex might vibrate out of his fucking skin.
“I've only been once myself, so I’m a bit unfamiliar, but… well, you mentioned New York City has a decent array of bookstores or libraries?” Henry asks, nose scrunching. “Because the options here are… quaint, certainly.”
Overwhelming fondness swells in Alex’s chest, filling up his lungs and feeling an awful lot like fulfilled dreams and answered wishes. “There are so many goddamn bookstores and libraries.”
Henry blows out a breath. “And surely, they have better tea there than here.”
“You’ll be drowning in boujee cafes, sweetheart,” Alex says.
“And still plenty of area to walk David in? He does adore a good park periodically.”
“Biggest park you’ve ever seen, actually. David might lose his fucking mind.”
Henry laughs, big and genuine, his hand sliding around the side of Alex’s neck.
“And you’ll be there?”
Alex nods. “And I’ll be there.”
“Right.” Henry glances up briefly before returning his gaze to Alex’s face. “Christ. You may very well be the worst idea I've ever had.”
“That tracks.”
“I can’t believe I’m about to move to bloody New York City because of you.”
Heavy tears slip down Alex’s cheeks, relief and happiness and love suddenly taking up so much of the space inside of him that it’s spilling out. “You are?”
“Well,” Henry says, thumbs catching the moisture pouring from Alex’s eyes but not bothering to wipe it away. “I hear it’s a lovely city.”
Alex nods again. “Yeah. Yeah, it is.”
Henry tugs him in, letting Alex press his damp cheek to the side of Henry's throat. Alex closes his eyes and wraps his arms around Henry like a vice, as if maybe holding firmly enough will ward off any second thoughts that Henry might have.
Only, Henry squeezes him tighter.
“I love you, too, for what it's worth,” Henry whispers, his breath brushing the shell of Alex's ear. “So much.”
“It’s worth everything,” Alex tells him, nuzzling his nose into the column of Henry's throat. “Everything.”
Their lips find each other again, but only long enough for Alex to realize that they’ve won, for that realization to make him giggle almost deliriously into Henry’s mouth. Somehow, they’re going to make it beyond this cursed and hallowed beach, take their love with them instead of leaving it here amongst the thousands of other forgotten memories, as plentiful as the grains of sand that will never see more than this single shore.
It feels like they’ve cheated the system, though Alex reasons that his logic wasn’t necessarily incorrect—summer romances aren’t meant to persevere once the fall comes around.
But love is.
Love—real love—is stronger, more persistent.
Like the sea.
Henry pulls away, staying close enough that Alex can feel his smile. “Also, I've gotten much better at swimming, you cretin.”
Alex laughs and kisses him again.
— — —
Alex goes back to Austin with June and Nora on August 27th to half-filled boxes and a plane ticket with his name on it, destination New York City. It's not as daunting as it felt when he left them there, and he spends the last few days of this chapter of his life cheerfully putting most of the things he owns into cardboard boxes sealed with packing tape.
A few days before Alex is set to leave, Henry sends him an apartment that he's found, available in thirty days and three blocks from Alex's place. They allow dogs, he says in the message.
Alex replies, so they'll let me visit, fucking stellar, and then has to explain to his mom why he's “smiling like he won the damn lottery.”
It's cheeky, but Alex tells her that he did.
And then has to explain that, too.
A month later, he and Henry curl together on Henry's brand new couch and eat a pizza to celebrate his move. Henry kisses Alex's mouth with lips that taste like pepperoni and says that he's excited to see what the future holds.
For himself.
For them.
And for the first time in a really long time, Alex agrees.
ten months later
“Is it strange to say part of me misses the smog?”
Nora snorts, shoving Henry's shoulder and rolling her eyes. “Less than a year in the city, and you’ve lost your fucking marbles. I think we might need to reset you to your factory default settings.”
Henry’s hand catches Alex's almost naturally as they walk along the shore. “This is my default, I’m afraid.”
Alex squeezes Henry's palm. “And his system doesn't allow for any DLC. I checked.”
“Oh?” Nora wiggles her eyebrows. “What kind of downloads were you looking for?”
“Wouldn’t you like to fucking know.”
“I would. It’s why I asked.”
“Wait, am I a defective toy or a gaming system in this metaphor?” Henry pipes up, eyes playfully narrowed.
“Where did we find this guy again?” Nora asks, expertly dodging the elbow June tries to nudge into her ribs.
“We didn't,” Alex says, leaning up to kiss the underside of Henry's jaw. “He found me.”
Nora makes a gagging sound, but one corner of her mouth curls upward. “Whatever. Wanna head back to the house?”
Henry halts his steps, keeping Alex’s hand and effectively stopping him, too. “We’ll meet you both there in a few?”
June drags Nora off when she opens her mouth to say something—Alex probably never will know what it was. But his sister smiles at him over her shoulder as they start heading back in the direction of the house.
“It’s too light outside for us to have sex on this beach right now,” Alex says.
Henry rolls his eyes. “I wanted to talk to you about my apartment.”
“Oh.” Alex squints up at him. “What about it?”
“Well, my lease is up in September, and I was considering moving,” Henry tells him. “I was curious to hear your thoughts.”
Alex frowns. “Do you not like your place?”
“It’s fine enough, I suppose.” Henry’s eyes are bright and a little mischievous. “I was thinking of somewhere a bit closer to the school, though. Perhaps a place that has two bedrooms instead of one, and I’ve always truly preferred a kitchen peninsula over a boring old island. Plus, the off-white color of my apartment walls leaves something to be desired, don’t you think? Perhaps a nice light shade of gray would be better.”
“I see,” Alex says, feigning deep consideration of Henry’s concerns. “Weird thing is, that sounds exactly like my place.”
“Huh.” Henry’s face breaks out into a grin. “I suppose it does.”
Alex takes Henry’s other hand, swinging their intertwined fingers between their bodies. “Do you wanna move in with me, baby?”
Henry’s sunkissed cheeks flush, his gaze dropping to their hands. “Do you think it’s too soon? Too… fast?”
“For other people, maybe.” Alex leans up to kiss him. “Not for us.”
“I think so, too, but I wasn’t sure if—”
“I love you,” Alex says easily. “I would have let you move in with me last summer.”
“I love you, too,” Henry replies. “So, then. How would you feel about gaining two roommates?”
“As long as I get to kiss both of them.”
“David will require it, I’m sure.” Henry smirks. “And so will I.”
“Perfect,” Alex answers, pecking Henry’s lips to seal the deal. “Then I think it sounds like a great fucking plan.”
They kiss again, Henry letting go of Alex’s hands to wrap his arms around Alex’s waist, pulling him closer. Henry’s lips are soft and smiling as the water washes over their bare toes, pulling some of the sand from underneath their feet.
Maybe it should make Alex feel as though his balance is in jeopardy, like he’ll lose his footing if he doesn’t adjust.
But Henry holds him tighter, his kisses loving and sweet, and Alex feels that unwavering beating of his heart, the same rhythm that pounds under his palm as he presses it to Henry’s chest, that the waves set as the water rushes in and glides back out.
As if Henry was always there, in that swell of the sea as it soothed Alex growing up, or on the other side of that vast expanse of ocean that Alex always imagined getting swept away to.
Like maybe that pull toward the water wasn’t the water.
It was Henry.
Both saved him. Both are things that he loves. Both are pieces of his heart that make up the structure of who he is, the person he wants to be.
Both are constant, steady.
And his, forever.