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June.
Friends are off limits.
when she said that, she didn’t really mean it. Like, it’s the kind of thing you say to your fifteen years old brother, because he is annoying and a charming little shit who loves to sweet talk your friends. So, friends were off limits.
June never even intended for it to be a rule or even to be applicable to romantic relationships. But of course, her annoying and charming little shit of a brother took that silly thing she said seven years ago to heart and ran with it.
And look, even if she meant it at the time, it ran out of validity the day she started dating Nora. Even if she could look for some loophole in their proverbial friendship contract, the simple truth was that Nora was Alex’s friend (and ex) and now was June’s girlfriend —yes, Nora was also June’s friend and whatnot, but the bottom line is that the rule could also be for her and Alex didn’t even comment on it when they told him they were together.
So, for whatever reason, Alex thinks he has to hide the fact that he is sleeping with her best friend.
To be fair, she has been suspecting it for a while. At first, she didn’t connect the dots, because, even if they had their bets, they didn’t know if Alex was queer, so the possibility of him and Henry was a bit out of reach. When Alex came out as bi, June started to pay more attention.
And now, here she is, in Alex dorm room, looking for a book he borrowed and told her to go and collect, staring at a very familiar sweater, one that she bought two years ago for certain British blonde guy.
Alex and Henry go way back. When Henry moved from England straight to Claremont-Diaz family’s next door, he became June’s book-nerd-friend and basically her parents’ adopted child. At first, Alex claimed that he couldn’t stand Henry and his princely manners, while he was the toughest cookie of them all (he was also around seven years, so no one really took him seriously), all through school, when Henry was at their house Alex simply acted like he was nonexistent. In high school, after their parents’ divorce and that big fall out with Liam, Alex started trying to poke Henry more, even if Henry rarely gave in —to be honest, June always read that as Alex trying to win some of Henry’s attention (but without having to actively do it, friends are off limits and all that). When they both got in the same college, June thought that this one-sided feud his brother held was going to be finally over. She didn’t even think twice about the friends are off limits rule.
At least, she thinks, the one-sided feud is over.
Lil bit: where are you? the book is on the desk. please, hurry, bug.
They were all in town, their parents and her, visiting. They were going to go out for dinner —or try to go out for dinner. whatever.
She grabs the book and thinks that this should have been also a clue. There is no way that her little brother was into Charlotte Brönte by himself. He must’ve had some ulterior motives. Charming a Literature major by reading his favorites authors was some game June didn't know Alex possessed.
Good for Henry.
Alex.
“I tell you, H, she was weird.”
Alex is lying down, one arm flexed under his head and the other playing with Henry's hair. The other boy is curled around Alex, head resting on his chest.
“I think you are being dramatic, love.”
“No, you weren't there. She was looking at me with that look, the one she used when she knew something. Like a secret or like she was trying to get me to confess something. I don't know but it was unnerving.” He sighs. Maybe Henry doesn't get it, but he is sure that he is not losing his mind here. Perhaps June is, but not him.
Henry kisses his overheated skin. Alex could feel the smile in his lips. He does not appreciate being laugh at.
“Look, tomorrow I'm meeting her for tea. If I perceive something strange with her, I'll let you know,” Henry says.
“You'll see how I'm right,” he whispers.
“Of course, darling.”
He sees as Henry closes his eyes, Alex stares at him, his peacefully semblance once he can let it all go, let the guard down and relax. He was so beautiful sometimes Alex has trouble breathing.
So… Alex wasn’t planning on hiding his relationship with Henry. Well, maybe a little. He knows it’s childish to still be affected by what his sister said so many years ago, but at the same time, he thinks, he has broken some brother-sister-agreement, and he feels bad. Not bad enough to break up with Henry, but bad enough to be a coward about it. He knows he has to come clean; he is aware that this thing is untenable —he just has to find the perfect moment. That’s the mature thing to do.
He knows that for all the shit that could stir, him being involved with Henry, the alternative would be worse —the alternative being: Alex never telling her and June discovering in a couple of years, for some reason, and getting really mad at him. Because it’s not like this thing between him and Henry is that serious. They just hooked once and from then it was convenient. It’s totally an exclusive-monogamous-not-at-all-serious-situationship. They are not going to get married and have two point five kids.
Pez.
Hazza: Do you want to go out tomorrow? Have dinner or maybe we can order in, whichever you prefer.
Pez: Of course, darling boy.
Pez: Is Alexander busy?
Hazza: I can have dinner with my best friend.
Pez: So, is he joining?
Hazza: Mother-son dinner.
Pez: Order in, we can watch old RuPaul’s Drag Race’s episodes and eat pizza, you pay.
Hazza: Fine.
Pez it’s actually pretty fond of Alexander. He likes the guy, ever since he saw how happy he makes Henry, all of those details he remembers about him, reading his favorite books and gifting flowers —all the silly things and more ordinary things, too. The actions and words he does or says, that have his Hazza calling him or telling him in between hushed words as if speaking them out loud would make the wind take the feelings with it.
Except… He seems to be incapable of telling his family about Henry —and do not think Pez means the guy has to do things when he is not ready, however it looks like something is off. He knows that Henry has been a family friend of the Claremont-Diazes since forever, he knows that darling June is like a second sister for Henry, thus he finds it odd that the boy is so scared of his sister finding about them.
Pez is Henry’s friend first and fashion lover second, and so every time June has come to visit since this thing started, he has observed how his Hazza gets more distant of her and doesn’t like it one bit. He is not one for intervening in other people’s business —he is more, one for knowing about everyone’s business but he usually lets them make their mistakes —but he thinks that maybe a conversation with Alex is overdue.
He knows that Henry tries to understand Alex —he is the first guy that Alex had more than one night stand with, and they’ve only been together for a couple of months. Fair. Pez could get the fear for rushing things. Yet. He has seen how Alex looks at his Hazza, there is no way on Earth they don’t end up married with two point five kids and a dog.
June.
June is walking down the street; she can see the tea shop where she is about to meet Henry. It’s, truthfully, a beautiful place, with big windows that let the sun come in, illuminating the shop with a graceful aura, that gives her the feeling of having entered a safe space.
She pushes the door, and the small bell over it announces her presence, scent of lavender tea and fresh baked goods fills the space, June smiles as she looks for the table back in the corner, where they always sit when she comes to visit.
Yes, she thinks, this feels like a safe space.
She is early, June notices as she looks at her phone, so goes to entertain herself looking through the secondhand books they have in the shop. They adorn big vintage shelfs that are the dream of every bookworm like she and Henry —the first time they ever walked in, they fantasized with being able to fit one of them inside their respective rooms (both of which were criminally small).
He phone vibrates on her purse. She picks up.
“Hey, babe,” Nora says.
June smiles. That feeling of being home each time she hears her girlfriend never fades.
“Hello.”
“How is it going?”
June sighs. Being with their parents always is exhausting, no matter how hard they try to keep making things together like the resemblance of the family they once were —it doesn’t work. Families aren’t built by fake laughs and tense dinners once in a while, and sometimes she wishes their parents could accept that. Because forcing their children to sit through meals where they constantly fight and reproach things to one another is draining and makes the fact that they are not a family abundantly clearer.
Tonight, June and their father are going to the movies and then to have dinner while Alex and their mother will go to have dinner somewhere —and tomorrow morning, Alex and their father will go to see a football match and she and their mother will go out for brunch and hopefully no one will end banned from any restaurant for shouting and fighting in public.
“Tiring, but not as bad as I thought.”
“I’m glad.”
“How was your day?”
As Nora starts talking, June paces through the bookshelves, hearing attentive to everything her girlfriend is sharing, even if, half the time, she doesn’t understand what she is saying about stats and excel spreadsheets.
After a while, she sees Henry coming.
“Hey, gotta go, but one last question.”
“Shoot, babe.”
“Numbers on Henry and Alex being in a secret relationship?”
She hears the bell. Henry’s eyes looking for her inside the tea shop.
“Oh… probs a solid eighty-nine.”
He sees her and his lips curl into a big smile. June has been so focused on seeing her parents, Alex, and the alleged secret relationship her little brother and Henry appear to be having that had forgotten how good it feels to be with her best friend again.
“Nice. Call you later. Love you,” she says to Nora.
“Love you, too.”
She pockets her phone and walks towards Henry.
She is going to be normal, and chill, and not going to try to pry information out of Henry. She swears.
Henry.
Okay, maybe Henry is about to owe Alex an apology. Which is not nice as Alex loves being right and Henry hates admitting he was wrong. What a pair they make.
When Alex told him last night that he thought that June was looking at him as if she was trying to get him to confess something, he just assumed he was exaggerating. That was a very Alex thing to do. But apparently, he was wrong, because there is no other way of interpreting June’s stare is calculating —and he will not blame Nora for this development, because he has known his best friend for long enough to know that she has always had it, but just never use it. Certainly not on him. Unnerving indeed.
Henry didn’t even see it coming. One minute they were talking about the new adaptation for The Picture of Dorian Gray and the fact that they are erasing the queerness of a book written by a gay man. Henry feels like this was Troy with Patroclus and Achilles being cousins all over again. And the next minute, June blurts: “and how is your life going?”
To an outsider that question would sound innocent and even ambiguous, Henry should not be panicking for that. However, he wants to reiterate, he knows June. They’ve gone through a lot together. Through awkward phases in high school and first crushes, through her father leaving them after the divorce and arguments with her mother, through heartbreak and through his father’s death, when he slept in her house for a week unable to stop his panic attacks. June knows him in deep level that he thinks no one has ever known him —he wants to believe that he knows her that good, too.
So, yes, the question was innocent. But also, deliberate. Because when Henry says: “Nothing new.” Which he could say is not a lie, because they face time almost every week and text each other all the time and this thing with Alex is not that new, so … Nothing new. Not a lie, not a truth an in-between —exactly how he feels with Alex. He can see how June’s nose twists. Is a telltale sign she has, the one that shows that she didn’t get the answer she was looking for.
(Alex does it too, when he is not satisfied with a mark or an essay, or, as her sister, with an answer —it usually means that they are going to keep digging).
She hums, observing him. “Nothing. You are not seeing anyone?”
There is no way in heaven that she knows. They have been very careful. June hasn’t even seen them together yet. Alex has been really thorough with the information he filters to his sister and the stories he tells her. As far as he is informed, June knows that he and Alex see each other (as acquaintances) from time to time and often assist the same parties. Pez is a common friend, so they hang together, nothing else.
Henry frowns —he is shit at lying, he is self-aware. “As in my therapist or as in dating?” He wants to pat his own shoulder. That was a fairly nice delivery, it didn’t sound forced at all. Give him a bloody BAFTA.
June chuckles. “You are being dense on purpose.”
“Excuse you. I am not.”
He is.
“C’mon, Hen, there is always someone.”
Henry sighs. Half-truths are not lies; he has to remind himself. A lie for omission is not punishable. He is not going to be disinherited as best friend, right?
He can feel cold sweats going down his spine. Not even the comforting tea shop can make it less stressing. He sips his Earl Gray, if June finds he has been lying (saying half-truths) to her, it may be the last one he ever tastes.
“I mean,” he starts. June claps excitedly. “There is someone.”
“I fucking new it.” She is looking at him with wide eyes.
“But you know it’s not serious. We are not going to get married and have two point five kids, a dog and a picket-fenced house.” He tries his best to sound sarcastic and to keep the bitterness out of his tone.
June scrunches her nose again.
Great.
Ellen.
Ellen was staring at his son wondering if he thought that she was stupid.
She is examining his facial expressions, how he is gazing at his phone and laughing with every notification and when asked about it, he only says, “nothing,” like he was not lying to the face that gave him birth. For the love of all that is mighty.
Ellen knew all the sings in Alex's handbook of lying. She had invented them.
Her son was crushing on someone. Crushing hard. Maybe even more than crushing.
She only hoped that Henry won't be too heartbroken over it. She has a soft spot for the kid, and he has been infatuated with her blind son since forever.
“Alex, could you please put that infernal thing down and pay at least five minutes of attention to your mother.”
Alex looks at her as if he had forgotten that she was still siting there. How nice to be reminded of your place.
“Sorry.”
She pats his cheek. “So, tell me, sugar. Who is this person that makes you giggle and twirl your hair like that?” She smiles as her son starts to blush.
“I do not giggle and twirl my hair, Ma.”
“Oh, if you say so. I guess I just have to go to get my eyes checked. You know, the age.”
Alex groans.
“I tell you. I was just talking to a … friend.”
“I believe you, sugar.”
She does not believe him. Of course she doesn’t.
Ellen Claremont might have not been the most present parent of them all. She is goal-driven and terrible focused on her career, which admittedly, is not a good environment to raise two kids. She and Óscar have a very complicated relationship that has clearly affected them and their way to approach their own relationships. She can, at least, admit that. She fiercely wishes Alex has found someone —after years of being in denial, and being with Leo, she has been in the mental state to hear about Alex abandonment-issues (not that her son has told her, but Leo was part-time tech genius and part-time family therapist). Her beautiful (oblivious) son deserves someone who will see him for all the fantastic pieces that make his soul. Specially, since June has Nora, now.
June. Internally, Ellen sighs. You know what they say about mother and daughter relationships. They are never easy. She loves her daughter with all she has, but June has never understood that her mother would sacrifice everything for her career. She could not see how important politics were for Ellen. What making a difference means for her. And maybe that makes her a bad mother. Maybe it does.
Alex chooses that exact moment to start blabbering about his International Relations teacher and how wrong he was —her son being right always. Obviously. Ellen lets all the thoughts go, vanish from her mind.
At the end of the day, what she wants is to see her kids happy.
However, after she has accompanied Alex to the front door of his dorm, she takes her phone and calls Leo.
“I think Alex is in love.”
Leo laughs delighted. “That is great news. Is it Henry? Please, tell me it’s him.”
Ellen hums, amused. “Didn’t tell. He didn’t even admit he was seeing someone.”
“Well,” Leo reasons. “Let’s wait and see. I’m still rooting for Henry.”
It’s Ellen’s turn to laugh. Yeah. It’s safe to assume that all of them have been waiting for Henry and Alex to stop dancing around each other, playing this cat and mouse stupid game.
“Rooting?”
“Yeah. Waiting for them to get married and have two point five children a dog and a picket-fenced house with garden.”
“I think you have to go to sleep now, darling,” Ellen says fondly.
Her husband, she swears.
Alex.
Alex: u busy?
H <3: I’m at Pez’s. Why?
Alex: :(
Alex: will you be coming here tonight?
Alex: pleaseeeeeee
H <3: It might be late when we finish. Are you sure that is not better if I sleep in my room, and we meet tomorrow?
Alex: no
H <3: Alex…
Alex: just sleep ofc. cuddle a bit… so you don’t have to go all the way to your room.
H <3: You mean, so I don’t have to go up two more floors.
Alex: exactly. u know how too much exercise is bad.
H <3: You run five miles every day.
Alex: your point?
H <3: I’ll be there.
Alex: sweet. you’ve got the key.
Right. Even he can see that maybe he is not acting very exclusive-monogamous-not-at-all-serious-situationship, but he is also a clingy motherfucker and sleeping next to Henry guarantees at least five hours of continuous sleep, which is nice. It’s convenient.
Alex tries very hard not to focus on the butterflies in his stomach when he thinks about waking up with Henry pressed by his side. The small smile that takes his full lips and the flutter of his eyelids before the morning catches up to him and blinks awake.
The fucking butterflies can die for all he cares. He is not falling for Henry.
Henry.
Henry blocks his phone and sighs. This night was for getting embarrassingly drunk and crying about his situationship with whom he was pathetically in love.
Pez doesn’t add anything else, just pours more drink into his glass. He smiles weakly at him.
“I don’t want to talk about it.”
“Then we will not. We’ll just drink about it.”
Henry knows what Pez thinks. He, himself, is aware that he can’t keep doing it for any longer. For his own sanity.
This thing —Alex —was not supposed to last, even if arguably hasn’t been that long. When they first hooked up, Henry didn’t even think he was going to see Alex again. Perhaps in family gatherings where his family and the Claremont-Diazes would reunite here and there, but more than that, he fully expected Alex to ignore him again. Somehow it didn’t happen. And somehow, they hooked up again. And that just… kept happening.
So, yes. Henry is not new to the whole friends-with-benefits ordeal —if friends is something he could say about Alex and him. People who get along just nice and know each other in a Biblical sense is just too long.
Whatever is labeled, Henry knew what he was getting into when Alex said, “June can’t know about this.” And the panicked edge of his eyes was something Henry didn’t want to notice again. He doesn’t know why Alex is so adamant in June not finding about them. Every time he has tried to prod a bit, to find the reason, Alex just closes off. That feeling is even worse than feeling like a secret.
Henry had just accepted the fact that he would be holding Alex close to his heart for whatever period of time they can keep this between them, until whatever Alex is so afraid of out weights them and Alex decides to call it all off. And he had made his pace with it. Truly.
But he still mourns a bit all the dreams he once had about how their future could look like. Only if Alex would give him a real chance.
Henry might be selfish for feeling this way and still choosing to go back to him every time he calls (or texts). He never claimed otherwise.
Óscar.
Óscar knows his and Alex’s relationship is not easy. As much as they have worked through all their problems, starting with his and Ellen’s divorce and growing when he left Texas to go to California while he was at summer camp. And all the cagadas he has done in the way.
As of now, he thinks they are fine.
He knows his son.
But right now, he thinks, that maybe knowing his son less would be better.
He was supposed to pick Alex up for their game. He was on time, waiting by the door, but his son was not there. He checked that he had the right address. After a quarter of hour, he walked in the building, gaining the odd look from some student who is up early for a Saturday morning. He found the number of Alex’s dorm room and started knocking. He heard some groans and someone mumbling, he just assumed that his son had slept thought his alarm.
Alex opened the door, only in his boxers and clearly still half asleep. So... yes knowing less.
“Hola, mijo,” he says.
Alex opens his eyes in a way Óscar thought only cartoons could do.
Alex slams the door close. Óscar hears swears at the other side, and he hears clearly other voice.
Oh.
Interesante.
His son opens again the door, this time blocking his visibility of the whole room with his body and wearing a pair of joggers.
“Sorry, dad. I’ll be ready in five.”
He doesn’t let Óscar open his mouth.
The third time the door opens Alex is fully dressed and ready to go and Óscar really shouldn’t pry. He knows his son would tell them when he is ready about whoever is there if they are important to him… but… his Mexican genes got the best of him. He is sure generations of tias, primas and abuelas are looking at him with a satisfied smile.
“You are not going to introduce me to you guest?”
Alex stops dead in his way. He looks at his father. “There is no one there.”
“Do not lie to your old man, Alex.”
“Fuck.”
Óscar can see how Alex’s brain wheels are turning. He is trying to find a way to get out of this situation.
To be fair, if Alex said that he doesn’t want to introduce them to him, he will let it be. But he sees how Alex is eyeing at the door. Whoever is there… is important.
Slowly, Alex pushes the door more open.
As soon as Óscar recognize the mop of blonde hair and white blushed skin that is sitting on his son’s bed, he figures that it’s too late for their game but maybe they can have some nice breakfast.
Pez.
Answering the phone to a very panicked best friend is something that definitely wakes you up.
Pez sits in his bed, Egyptian cotton pooling in his hips. On the other side of the line, Henry is telling him in rushed words what happened that morning. How Alex and he fell asleep and didn’t realize the time, Óscar waking them up, and, in a turn of events that sent Henry reeling, they went together to eat breakfast.
Pez is not sure about what it means, and his answer doesn’t help Henry.
Actually, no. He knows what all of it means. What he doesn’t know is if Alex is aware. And that is where the problem relies.
He sighs. He wants to take the boy by the shoulders and shake him until his ideas fall in place, until he realizes that he has to ask Henry out, formally, officially, how he deserves.
Pez: Babes, let me know if you need help for getting out of there.
He checks his phone one more time and when he gets no response from Henry, he goes on with his morning routine as usual.
Right when he is looking for what exquisite outfit wants to wear that day —he thinks a satin, flowered shirt might be the winner —his phone starts buzzing.
“Pez Okonjo talking.”
“Hi.”
“Darling June, to what do I owe the pleasure?” He says in a saccharine tone.
Henry.
Henry’s head is against the tiles. He has never been more grateful for the en-suite in his room, the small fortune he pays for it, right now, is worth it.
He has just gotten here, after his breakfast with Alex and his father. Breakfast with Alex and Óscar. Even now, after the fact, he still has trouble thinking it was real and not a fever dream.
Then, they walked him to his residence and Alex kissed his cheek goodbye. And Henry is absolutely not losing his mind.
Except. He is.
He called Pez from the café’s bathroom, trying to put some sense into what this morning has been. Pez hummed and tried to give him some advice, but clearly, he was as lost as him. Which was not very helpful but gave him a bit of solace. Alex was not confusing only to Henry.
He groans thinking about tonight.
Every time, since they started collage, whenever Alex’s parents came to visit, they made time to see Henry too. His life has been so entwined with the Claremont-Diaz that it made sense —when Bea or his mother came to visit, they also went out with Alex. It’s not weird, it’s what a decade of knowing each other does to someone. Alex is always keen to accept the Henry’s family invitations, it used to make his blood boil and his skin prickle. Why Alex didn’t mind being around the rest of his family, but Henry seemed to be such a burden (at least before they started fucking)?
Henry had almost forgotten about tonight. The dinner with Alex’s parents. He wonders when Ellen and Óscar stopped being June’s parents, the people who had seen him grow floundering into himself, and started referring to them as Alex’s parents, the people who raised the boy he is in love with.
He sighs.
He remembers how Óscar said, “See you tonight, Hen.” And wants to fake his death, acquire a new personality and move to England, maybe to his homophobic grandmother’s house —she is old, anyway, she will be kicking the casket close any day now.
He knows June will find him in the beat of a breath.
And it took him too long to curate his personality to be discarding it so easily, so he has to suck it he guesses.
He moves to the shower and lets the water rinse the fears. He takes a deep breath. Trying not to focus on the what ifs, but they are far too powerful.
What if Alex decides to say something about him and Henry.
What if Alex slides his hand under the table and over Henry’s thigh.
What if Alex takes Henry’s hand over the table.
What if Óscar says something about this morning.
What if they think Henry is not suitable for Alex.
What if June gets mad?
Henry stops his movements.
What if June gets mad?
That.
That is new fear he didn’t know was possible. Yes, he was aware that he was —essentially —messing around with the younger brother of his best friend, but never consider the possibility of June being angry about it. Henry had this clear image in his head, that if some day he and Alex get together, he would tell June how he fell in love with the other most important person in her life (besides Nora). How he wants to cherish and love Alex the way he deserves. How he wants to be that person for Alex. And every time, June was happy for them. In his fantasies, everyone was happy for them.
And now, he is becoming increasingly conscious that maybe life is not that rose-colored, because Alex family might not be as receptive of them as they were in Fantasy Land.
Lucky for him, he doesn’t think Alex will say anything. He is not sure why he told Óscar —if one uncomfortable breakfast where they pointedly did not talk about them being together in any realm, could be counted as saying —but Henry doesn’t believe Alex has in him another confession, not yet at least.
Alex.
Getting ready for dinner with his parents, his sister, and Henry shouldn’t be that big of a deal. Somehow it is.
Alex has never been nervous about these things. He has dreaded them, he has been anxious, but nervous like this. Never. Not in a million years.
He refuses to accept that it is because of Henry. He has seen Henry lots of times, in various states of undress, he might add, and never gotten as nervous as he is now. He liked being around Henry especially because it was easy, he didn’t have to act or to be the perfect golden boy, lacrosse captain, straight A’s student. He could just be Alex. Stupid, oblivious, snarky and talkative Alex.
But, nevertheless, there he is. In front of his small cupboard with all the pieces of clothes overflowing it and thinking what is wrong with him.
Truthfully, that question should have asked that morning. When he basically, told his dad about Henry. He doesn’t know what overcame him, one second, he was ready to act like nothing had happened, like his father just caught him with a hookup, and the next second he was opening the door and asking him if Henry could join them for breakfast. Óscar hadn’t said anything about Henry wearing one of his t-shirts or the fact that he was in his underwear, he just nodded and lead them towards a café he saw coming earlier. He didn’t comment on it, but Alex saw the wicked smile when he thought no one was noticing.
It was that, suddenly, he couldn’t lie about Henry, which was going to be a fucking problem.
Finally, he settles for a pair of chinos —the ones who make his ass exceptionally good — and a white shirt with the two top buttons undone. He fights against his curls for a bit and deems them good to go.
He arrives to the restaurant at the same time that Henry does, he waves at him unsure of how to proceed. Henry smiles at him and hold the door open. Okay. He can act normal around Henry. Has done it before, can do it now.
June.
June is seeing how stiff his brother is sitting next to Henry, how he is consciously not making any action that would make him touch accidentally the other boy.
June is so sure something is going on.
Henry looked at Alex before they ordered with a wistful gaze she hasn’t seen in his blue eyes before. She really wants to know what happened between them.
Of course, when everything seemed calmed, and June was going to make small talk about the day, their father decides to ask their mother about a point in her campaign and hell breaks loose.
Alex.
Alex is holding Henry like a lifeline.
His parents started fighting before the dessert and they sat there staring at their empty dishes not knowing what to say. At some point, he looked at June, she looked back at him, and he grabbed Henry by the arm. They just left the place, unable to keep being there.
They went to a bar a couple of streets down. They drank the dinner away, trying to lift the mood, even if it seemed impossible.
June was slurring her words by the time Nora called her, and both accompanied her to the hotel she was staying at, while she whispered love words to her girlfriend. If it weren’t for how shit he felt after dinner, he might have found it cute. A spark of joy for his sister still shone through the sadness.
They got to Henry’s dorm room and Alex held Henry down, kissed his neck and the soft spot behind his ear, he undressed him softly and lovingly. He tried to make the most of their night, as if it was their last. He wanted to erase the sorrows this night has caused and turn it into a sweet memory of Henry’s body against his, of his skin and moans and whispers.
Alex pinned Henry’s wrists over his head. He could see the lust drowning in blue, blue, blue, Alex was drowning too. But he wouldn’t have it any other way.
They were moving together. An all-encompassing feeling of love hit Alex straight in the chest. He almost stopped breathing. Then he came and Henry followed him over the precipice.
And now he was holding Henry like a lifeline, because he felt like one. Alex could deny it for as long as he wants. But at some point, during late night talks, morning stretches, game nights and languish post-orgasm smiles, he has fallen in love with the only person he should not.
Friends are off limits, his sister’s voice says. Eighteen and older than Alex could phantom. He closes his eyes and sends a small prayer.
It’s going to be all right.
Por favor. Amén.
Henry.
Alex is holding him as if he fears Henry would walk away. As if Henry would ever do that. Not that Alex knows.
Henry can even attempt to sleep until he doesn’t hear Alex peaceful breath in regular patterns until he can feel his chest upping and downing normally under his head.
Now, when he knows Alex is safe, is when he can begin to relax.
Alex.
He could see how going out for dinner and the out to a new bar Pez knew could sound like a perfect plan. However, seeing Henry in the tightest jeans known to a man, was not a smart plan. Because Alex wanted to peel them off him. Realizing he is in love with Henry has only made him hornier for him.
Alex is dealing with it poorly.
It was June’s last night, so they were celebrating. Their parents left two days prior, gracias a Dios, and Nora had made some time to join her and visit them, benefiting of time off due some holidays or something —Alex is a bit drunk to care, so like, thanks to whatever person who died so now he can look at Henry dancing with Pez and wearing that t-shirt, without worrying about going to class with hangover.
He thinks that maybe tonight is the night that he is going to tell his sister. He still is not sure how to explain to Henry that he was the one to ask of an exclusive-monogamous-not-at-all-serious-situationship and then proceeding to fall ass over tits in love with him, but that might come later. After he is sure his sister doesn’t want to murder him and can ask her for advice.
He takes another sip of his drink, observing how Henry tilts his head backwards laughing. The neon lights illuminating him in a way that makes Alex heart jump as if it was training for the Olympics.
Nora.
Admittedly, when June was all about Henry and Alex dating, Nora was skeptical. Not because she didn’t think they would not fit, but because years of data showed that Alex was still in denial about his crush.
Then, each time she talked to her brother and to her best friend, she collected evidence, until Nora couldn’t do anything but accept the fact that Henry and Alex were going to get married and have two point five children, a picket-fenced house with a garden, a dog and maybe a parakeet.
She estimated around eighty-night percent of possibility in them dating secretly, however now she has no chance to up it to one hundred percent.
“Don’t tell June,” are the first words that come out Alex mouth —one that was previously attached to Henry’s own mouth.
She had come looking for the bathroom, she went through the corridor that leads to them, but found instead Alex and Henry quite literally sucking face. Well, not very secret-relationship on their side, but she’s never had one, so who is she to judge.
She sees as Henry flinches after those words.
“Right. I won’t, but you do know you have to tell her, right, Alejandro?”
“Yes.” Alex looks at Henry. He may think he is being inconspicuous, but Nora can feel the intensity of his love standing there.
“Good.” She nods and walks past them, towards the bathroom. She really needs to pee.
Henry.
Sleeping next to Alex, Henry couldn’t help but feel like it was the last time.
After Nora found them, Alex had been acting weird. Maybe, that thing that kept him so obsessed with June finding out had already got to him, maybe Henry had consumed his time with Alex. And so, he has to let go.
Tomorrow.
Once June and Nora had left, he will end this. That’s the smart thing to do.
He hugs Alex closer to him, the other boy lets out a soft huff and then a sigh. Henry is going to miss this.
He tries to memorize every inch of Alex’s face. He’ll need it.
Alex.
When Alex was seven years old, a moving truck parked in front of the next-door house. That house that had been empty for as long as he has been alive. A car parked behind the truck and a family climbed down. Alex doesn’t really remember anything else, aside that it was boiling hot, and he was drinking his mother’s iced tea. However, there is a memory he hasn’t been able to delete: the boy.
The family that moved in, was composed of three kids, the oldest one who barely cast a look towards Alex, a girl a bit older than him, who smiled at Alex, and a boy, golden hair, blue eyes, shy smile, a boy that whispered his name and run inside the house.
Alex was deeply dazzled by the boy —Henry.
Henry went and became June’s best friend, leaving Alex to catch the crumbles of whatever attention Henry would send his way, but it was never enough. Alex started to resent the fact that Henry hadn’t chosen him, maybe he thought he was way too good for Alex. Well, his loss.
When June said that he should stay away from her friends, he really thought it wasn’t going to be a problem.
Well.
Until now.
He takes his sister out for breakfast the next morning, both of them slightly hangover but nothing that some tea, coffee, and handmade pastries can’t fix.
They walk into the patisserie Alex likes. It’s more expensive that what they are used to —being broken students and all that —but… if he is going to really do it, he is going to deserve one of the muffins Stelle sells here.
And Alex is determined to do it.
So it begins.
June is sitting in front of him, moving his tea bag in the cup, watching at him expectantly.
“You said you want to talk about something.”
Right. Straight to the point. They don’t have much time to dance around it either way. She as a train to catch.
Alex sighs.
He launches himself into an explanation, trying to convey how very sorry he is for breaking the code. Trying to make her understand Henry’s and his relationship for the last months, what Henry has made him feel and how he tried not to fall for him, but he did.
“I’m so sorry,” he says again, once he has finished.
June asses him, it’s just a couple of seconds in which she is organizing her ideas, but that doesn't make it less scaring.
She smiles at him, it’s a tentative smile. Then, takes his hands in between hers.
“Thanks for telling me, Alex,” she starts. “I kind of had my suspicions.”
Alex chokes around the air he is breathing. “What?!”
June shrugs. “I know you, lil bit. And I know Henry. And I know you both together. I just put one and one together, you are not as slick as you think.”
He lets out a strangled chuckled.
“You are not mad at me? For breaking your rule- ouch! What was that for?”
June has kicked his shin.
“Because I love you, but you sure make it hard. Of course I’m not mad, asshole. Honestly, I should be, only for forcing my best friend to lie to me and think that I would be against my little brother falling in love.”
Alex feels a tight knot in his chest came loose.
“How did Henry take it?”
Alex frowns. “Take what?”
June blinks at him. Once, twice, trice.
“Alex, did you or did you not tell Henry that you love him?”
“Oh. Uhm… I haven’t – ouch! Stop that.”
“Stop being stupid!” She kicks him again.
“Look, I just wanted to tell you before, so I was sure that you didn’t hate me.”
June expression softens.
Henry.
Henry is trying not to cry.
He is picking up his things, all the discarded notebooks, books and clothe items he might have left in Alex room. He is not sure if Alex will still want to see him as friends after they are over, but he wants to be prepared in case he doesn’t.
He hears the door and swears under his breath. He thought he had more time.
“Hey, Hen, I need to-” Alex is cut mid-sentence. “What are you doing?”
“Collecting my stuff.”
“I can see that. Why?” The look of confusion in Alex’s eyes breaks Henry’s heart. Definitely won’t want to see him after today.
“Because I want them back.”
“Oh. True. And couldn’t you, like, come and get them when you need them?” He asks innocently, scratching the back of his neck.
“I don’t think it’s going to be possible.”
Alex’s brows furrow.
“What are you trying to say, Hen?”
Henry takes a deep breath and lets it out in slowly.
“I think we should talk,” he says.
The words fall in the room, filling the space. Weighting them out.
Alex swears in Spanish, but he doesn’t move. Just a barely-there nod.
“I think we- we should stop,” he lets it out. Feeling the last pieces of his heart fall to the ground.
“Did I do something wrong?” the vulnerability of Alex’s voice breaks him even more if possible.
“Alex, I think it’s just for the best. You know it. Especially after last night.”
Alex closes his eyes. He passes one hand over his face, like trying to process everything.
“What about last night? I don’t get it, Henry. I thought we were fine.” He sounds desperate.
“Nora found about us, Alex.”
“And?”
Henry wants to laugh maniacally. And? He asks, as if the rest of the world finding about this hasn’t been Alex fear for the longest time.
“You cannot be seriously asking that.”
Alex shakes his head. He looks straight into Henry’s eyes, bracing himself.
“I told June.”
Henry feels the air abandon his lungs.
“I’m sorry- what?”
“I told June that I was in love with her best friend.”
Henry is still asleep. Or maybe he woke up in an alternative universe. The multiverse is real and it’s coming after him.
“I think I misheard you,” he says feeling faint. “I think you said you were in love with me.”
Alex takes a step towards him.
“I did. I do. I love you, Hen.”
It’s happening.
Don’t panic.
It’s real.
Alex cradles his cheek. “Talk to me, baby,” he whispers.
Henry might be in his dying breath, might be actually fucking sick, because there is no chance this is happening to him. But he kisses Alex either way.
Alex kisses him with all he has. Henry feels like coming home, like finally being at peace. Alex is everywhere at once and Henry knows this is how it is supposed to be.
“I love you too, by the way,” he murmurs over Alex’s lips.
“Then why are you trying to leave.”
Henry shakes his head and drops his bag on the floor, the components scattered everywhere. Alex smiles at him, bright and full. Henry could live under that light.
Bea.
Bea is in some flimsy bar lost in the Midwest when she gets the call. She is about to go on stage to perform, but she sees Henry’s name on her screen and figures she doesn’t need to rehearse the last song of their set.
“Hey, Haz. How are you?”
She is met with the face of a very flustered Henry. She smiles knowingly. There is only one person who would make her brother look like that.
“Good, you?”
“About to play a gig. How is Alex?” she asks in a suggestive way.
Henry groans. She can hear Alex’s laugh off camera, then a mop of curls and the aforementioned appears, letting himself fall over Henry’s lap.
Huh. This is new.
A good kind of new.
She’s known for a while now that they were in better terms with each other, but sitting-on-each-other’s-lap was a new level she didn’t know they had reached.
She smiles happily. Her birthday wish from when she was twelve of them marrying, having two point five children, a picket-fenced house with a garden, a dog and maybe a parakeet and some fair-fishes was closer.
“Well,” Henry starts. “I might have something to say.”
And even before he can get the words out, Bea knows.
That night, she plays a cover of Your song, after saying: “I’d like to dedicate this next song to my little brother, who finally got together with the love of his life. So, if tonight you are here with someone special, dance to this song for them.”
Ellen.
It’s eight in the morning when Ellen gets the picture. It’s Henry and Alex together looking at each other with starry eyes, hands clasp together and the caption that Alex had accompanied the photo with, says: i guess this a thing now. henry and i are dating :)
Ellen prints the picture and pinned to the fridge, next to the one of June and Nora. And hands Leo the five dollar bill the had bet on them getting together before New Year's.