Chapter Text
Alex was finally off school.
With their win at the qualifiers, he finished the first semester as a high-school teacher on a high. Paris was now on the horizon in mid-January, which he was really looking forward to. It was such an excellent opportunity for the students, but also he had a chance to visit fucking Paris, how awesome. The school was also paying for their flights and accommodation, which was epic on all accounts.
This Christmas was also the opportunity to prove to everyone, especially his family, that he could care for himself. That he could stand on his own two feet, even after the wreckage of himself, he had left behind in New York.
He spent the few days before Christmas meticulously planning—something he excelled at. The menu he planned was ambitious but achievable. He wanted to create a meal that would impress with flavour but give him leftovers for days to come so he could binge-eat and watch TV from his bed. In the end, he settled for a lamb birria, carne asada, pazole and Yorkshire puddings. The last one was left field, but once he tasted the pillowy goodies at a pub nearby, he couldn’t stop thinking about them, especially how great they would pair with a spicy birria sauce. For drinks he settled for margs—with top-shelf tequila. He had his mom’s pecan pie recipe as well. The house was spotless. He scrubbed every surface and put away all the stray items.
He wanted everything to be perfect for when June and Nora arrived.
As he began his cooking preparation, three days before Christmas, some doubts began to creep in. In the past few months, he got really good at ignoring these thoughts, using every coping strategy to put push it all away, However, today out of all days, the doubt lingered, without any signs of going away anytime soon.
He sighed.
He knew, logically, that they’d never judge him, but after Carly, Alex had lost faith in his ability to do basically anything. Let alone impress someone.
He should’ve been a better judge of character. His career path as a lawyer literally depended on him being able to do that…It wasn’t that he wasn’t good at reading people.
He was just really fucking bad at reading her.
The red flags in their relationship had been there from the start, but he’d excused them as her quirks, things to work through, things that would change as they grew together.
For example, Carly’s condescension. She had the tendency to pick at him until he doubted his choices. It started off so small.
“You’re overreacting, Alex. Why do you always make such a big deal out of nothing?”
Then it turned into more.
“God, you’re exhausting. Can’t you just stay out of the way for once?”
“You’re lucky I’m here to clean up your messes. You’d fall apart without me.”
He’d always excused it all. He blamed himself, and let it fester inside of him.
Even now, the thought of it made his chest tighten. He paused mid-chop, staring at the pile of carrots in front of him. His breathing quickened, the spiral threatening to pull him under.
Stop. Pause. Re-direct.
It was his therapist’s advice. It was a technique they said he could use to re-centre himself. It has worked in the past, so he let himself hope it will continue to be his go-to.
Thankfully, as he forced himself to focus on the rhythm of his breathing, counting to four with each inhale and exhale, the storm in his head began to calm.
Slowly.
***
The scent of caramelised pecans filled his little apartment, as Alex lifted the steaming-hot pie from the oven onto the cooling rack. His flat (look at him using the new lingo) was festive and warm. He even got a real Christmas tree and decorated it humbly with cheap lights he got from Primark and dried fruits another teacher at school gifted to him. He had candles all around ready to be lit, and a festive playlist with way too much Michael Buble in it.
The snow outside was getting heavier, but he paid it no mind. As soon as he has June and Nora within his four walls, he can start breathing easier. Speaking of…the girls should be boarding in a couple of hours. He made sure to set-up the spare room for their arrival. He even picked-up a couple of face masks and hot-red nail-polish so they relax to the max and play spa.
Everything was ready.
When his phone rang, Alex smiled, expecting June or Nora to tell him they were past the security checks at JFK.
When he was met with annoyed, frantic voices and the unmistakable sounds of an airport announcements, his heart rate picked up.
“Alex,” June said, her tone apologetic and frustrated. “We can’t make it.”
“What?” Alex asked, his heart sinking. “What the fuck do you mean?”
“There’s a blizzard in New York. Everything’s grounded,” Nora added, her voice cutting through the chaos. “And it’s a mess in London too. No flights are coming in or out.”
Alex shook his head and flicked his phone on speaker so he could browse the news. As soon as he typed in weather, multiple alerts popped up. BBC articles flashing images of stranded families and closed airports. Thousands of travellers are stuck across the Atlantic, unable to make it home for Christmas.
Tears pricked at Alex’s eyes as reality settled over him. “So, you’re not coming?” His voice cracked.
“We’re so sorry,” June said, her voice filled with regret. “We tried everything. We will get there as soon as possible, but it’s looking like we will miss Christmas Day and maybe even Boxing Day.”
“It’s not your fault,” Alex mumbled, even as his chest tightened painfully. He needed to stay strong. His plan to show that he could manage on his own needed to go ahead even without them there. “Stay safe.” He said finally, and hung on for a while to ask about their drive back home.
When they finally hung up, Alex sat on the couch, staring blankly at the sparkling tree. He wanted to cry, especially when the emptiness set in and stretched around him.
He thought about crawling into bed with a bottle of tequila and sleeping through the holidays. It was the top-of-the-shelf shit too.
He decided against it, thinking it would be a waste of good booze to drink it on his own.
On my own.
Yet again.
This thought turned his sadness into anger, which quickly bubbled over. He was angry at the weather gods, at the fucking Teletubbies sun, at the whole damn year for putting him here.
Alone. On Christmas. In fucking England.
He started to angrily pack away the food, mumbling to himself throughout about the unfairness of it all.
Eventually, the anger drained from him, leaving only exhaustion. His arms sagged, his breath shaky as he stared at the kitchen counter, where his phone was as well.
He wondered if Henry’s Christmas was as stellar as his own. When he asked him about it at the pub, it seemed maybe it wasn’t?
With a sigh, he tapped out a message.
The reply came quicker than expected.
Alex added the last part after a few minutes, feeling a pang of regret when he hadn’t heard from Henry for a while.
Before Alex could put his phone down, it buzzed again—not a text, but a call.
Alex froze, staring at Just Henry 🙃 right there across his screen. They’d texted sparingly across the few months, sharing debating updates and work gossip, but they’d never called.
He hesitated for a moment, then answered. “Henry?”
“Hello, Alex,” Henry said, his voice softer than usual. “I saw your message. Are you alright?”
“I’m fine,” Alex lied, his voice unconvincing. “Just… you know. Alone on Christmas Like a loser.”
Henry paused, and Alex could hear faint shuffling in the background. “I’m alone as well. Guess we are both…losers?” Henry said with a sad laugh.
That confession caught Alex off guard. “Shit. Not what I meant. You’re not a loser. Wait—what? You don’t have plans? What about your family?”
“No,” Henry admitted, his tone light but guarded. “It’s just David and me this year.”
Alex didn’t think, he just reacted. “Come over.”
“What?” Henry asked, surprised.
“Come over. Bring David. I’ve already got enough food for three people, and, honestly, I could use the company.”
Henry hesitated, his voice quieter when he replied. “Are you sure?”
“Yes, Henry. Bring the damn dog.” Alex smiled, a warmth spreading through his chest. “You can’t let me sit here and drink good tequila alone all night. It’s the good shit too. I even have gin and a crap-ton of tonic.”
“Alright,” Henry said, a soft chuckle in his voice. “I’ll bring David. Shall I bring anything else?”
“Shall… so polite. Nah, man—just yourself,” Alex said. “And maybe an appetite. I’ve got enough beef and Yorkshire puddings to feed an army.”
“You made Yorkshire puddings?” Henry asked in a disbelief.
“Yeah. Like it’s hard?” Alex smiled, as he sensed Henry’s eye roll across the phone line. “See you soon!”
“I’ll see you soon,” Henry said with a small chuckle. Alex noted how lighter his voice sounded, as compared to the start of their conversation.
After texting Henry his address, for a second, Alex stared at his phone, a small, surprised smile creeping onto his face.
Thank goodness for small miracles. He didn’t think he’d survive his first Christmas away from all his friends and family.
***
When Henry arrived with David, his charming beagle, in tow. Alex greeted them at the door.
"Welcome to my humble abode," Alex said with a theatrical sweep of his arm.
Henry shook his head, even though a small private smile graced his face. His cheeks were pink from the cold, as he unwrapped himself from his leather gloves, coat, scarf and wooly winter hat. Even little David had a small winter vest on his body.
“Thank you for inviting me. David appreciates it, too.” At the sound of his name, David wagged his tail enthusiastically, and Alex crouched down to scratch behind his ears.
“Awww! Look at your cute little outfit, Davy. Is that a burberry original? You’re a one posh puppy. Yes you are. Such a good little boy.” Alex stood up and took Henry’s coat off him. “Come on in. I’ll take your coat, and there’s plenty of booze—take your pick. Dinner is almost ready, I just need to pull the puddings out.”
They settled in quickly, the atmosphere warming with the clink of glasses and easy conversation. Henry settled for a G&T and Alex poured himself a glass of red wine. The birria was perfect and the sides delicious. Henry complimented each dish, multiple times, which settled Alex’s soul immensely. He didn’t realize how much he missed cooking for others.
Alex found Henry was a huge fan of the Great British Bake-Off and they spent the majority of dinner conversing about different cooking techniques.
“Alright, back to the cheesecake,” Alex teased, grinning over the rim of his glass. “You mean to tell me you really managed to burn a no-bake cheesecake?”
Henry let out a mortified groan, hiding his face in his hands “It was… it was a dark time alright? And I refuse to elaborate more.”
“Oh no, we’re elaborating,” Alex said. “I’m invested in this story now. Did you… what, set your kitchen on fire?”
Henry shook his head, glaring at Alex, but there was no spite to his gaze. “There was gelatin involved, and perhaps a poor understanding of its properties. The details are not important.”
Alex snorted, leaning back into the couch. “Unbelievable. We’re scheduling a lesson. It’s officially on my New Year’s resolutions—Teach Henry Fox how to bake a cheesecake. Can’t have you calling yourself a Bake-Off fan if you’re out here committing dessert crimes.”
Henry’s laugh was soft, but genuine.
He looked away, his fingers tracing the rim of his glass as he tried—and failed—to hide how pleased he was. “I suppose I’d better prepare myself for that.”
“Damn right you should.” Alex smiled, watching the faint blush linger on Henry’s face.
It was… nice. Seeing him this relaxed, this open. He got glimses of it in the past few months, but it’s a huge difference since the composed, cool Henry Fox of staff meetings or their early debating practices—just Henry.
***
As the hours passed and the drinks flowed, Alex felt the sadness of the situation—of being away from his family dissipate. If someone had told him a few months ago that he’d spend Christmas dinner with Henry Fox, he would’ve laughed in their face.
Look at them now.
After dinner, they moved to the couch, with David curling himself between them. Soon the conversations got deeper.
Henry mentioned how Christmas was never the same after his father passed away.
Alex's expression softened. “Henry…”
“It’s alright,” Henry said quickly, with a sad smile he looked up into the air and continued. “He was our glue. The one who brought us all together. Christmas was always this… grand, warm event with him there. After he was gone, it felt like the air had been let out of the room.”
”The first Christmas after he passed, we tried to pretend like we was there with us, but in all honesty it was never going to be the same. My mum all but shut down on us until well after New Years. It was…well…not our finest moments. We all got into our vices and tried to cope, independently.”
Henry continued to share about his sister Bea who he absolutely adored and brother Phillip with whom he doesn’t see eye to eye. Henry’s tone carried no bitterness—just the quiet acceptance of his family situation.
He glanced over at Alex, giving him a small, almost apologetic smile. “It’s why I didn’t mind being alone this year. Quiet is better than forced.”
Alex’s chest ached as he watched Henry sip the last of his drink, eyes trained on the twinkling lights of the Christmas tree.
This was the moment when his own walls crumbled.
“I left New York because of a really horrible break-up. And by horrible, I mean soul-crashing.” Alex began hesitantly. “After Carly…,” he sighed, staring into his whiskey glass “After her. I stopped trusting myself. Like, completely. I didn’t even trust myself to pick the right damn toothpaste for months.”
Henry frowned, his blue eyes softening, but confusion was still present at Alex’s sudden confession. “Oh, Alex… what happened? If you don’t mind me asking.”
Alex sighed, swirling the amber liquid in his glass. “She was… controlling, you know? It started small, like little digs. ‘Why are you wearing that? You know it doesn’t suit you.’ Or, ‘God, Alex, do you have to be so loud all the time?’ Stuff I just brushed off because it felt normal. But then it escalated. I wasn’t even aware of how bad it had gotten until I couldn’t recognize myself anymore.”
Henry’s expression grew pained, but he stayed quiet, letting Alex continue.
“She made me feel like everything was my fault,” Alex said, his voice quieter now. “I let her tear me apart, piece by piece, because I thought I deserved it. When it ended, I didn’t even know who I was anymore.”
Henry placed his glass down and leaned slightly closer. “I’m sorry, Alex. No one deserves to feel that way.”
“Thanks,” Alex said, offering a small smile. “But hey, that’s behind me now. I’m here, hosting Christmas, not completely falling apart, so… progress, right?”
Henry smiled softly. “Progress indeed.”
After their heartful confessions they drifted to lighter topics. They bantered about their students and colleagues from work. Soon they started to share their own embarrassing teenage stories.
Before Alex realized it, the clock struck 2 a.m.
“Shit,” Alex said, blinking at the time. “It’s late.”
Henry looked at his own watch, his eyebrows lifting in surprise. “I hadn’t noticed, crickey.”
“Well, I don’t think you should drive home this late, also we drank quite a bit” Alex said quickly. “You can stay here with me”.
Henry’s cheeks flushed slightly. “Oh. I—thank you?
Alex chuckled, catching the look on Henry’s face. “Oh, Henry, not like that. Sorry—I mean, you’re exactly my type, but I didn’t mean it like that. I have a spare room set up for June and Nora. You can use that.”
Henry’s cheeks flushed even more, the blush spreading down his soft cashmere sweater. He froze a bit too. “Oh! I didn’t realize. You’re into men?”
Alex paused, scratching the back of his neck. “Uh, yeah. I guess that’s not public news here, huh? Back in New York, everyone knew. I’m bi.”
Henry nodded slowly, his expression thoughtful, non-telling. “I see. I’m gay.”
“Cool,” Alex said, his voice a little too casual as he sipped his whiskey. His mind immediately flashed to Nora and June grilling him about Henry. Well, shit, he thought. They were right.
Henry hesitated for a moment before asking boldly, “When you said I’m your type… what did you mean?”
Alex gave him a look, a grin tugging at his lips. “C'mon man. Now you’re milking it.”
Henry raised an eyebrow. “ Am I?”
“Hen. Christ. You must know how hot you are.”
Henry’s blush deepened, and he ducked his head slightly. “It’s not exactly common news, no.”
“You’re shitting me,” Alex said, leaning back in disbelief. “You are by far the hottest guy I’ve met in England.”
“Just in England?” Henry teased, his voice light.
“Well,” Alex said, grinning. “I did meet Keanu Reeves on the subway once. That was life-changing, so yes. But also, you know, Neo from The Matrix was one of my bisexual awakenings.”
Henry chuckled. “One of?”
“Oh yeah, there’s a whole list,” Alex said with mock seriousness.
Henry leaned back, his laughter genuine. “Do tell.”
They bickered and laughed for another half hour, the conversation flowing even easier than before, as if some dam was broken by their latest revelations.
Before the separated to their respective bedrooms, Henry stopped, carrying little, sleeping David in his arms.
“Thank you for tonight,” Henry said quietly. “It was… lovely.”
Alex smiled, leaning against the doorframe. “It was, wasn’t it?”
***
The power outage came around 4 A.M. Alex was jolted awake by the sudden freeze in the room, the hum of the heater was gone too. He turned over to the light and tried to flick it on. No use. He groaned, pulling the covers tighter around himself as a chill seeped into the room.
He lay still for a moment, hoping the power would flicker back on, but when it didn’t, he grabbed his phone and checked the time: 4:07 a.m. Great.
His brain caught up that he had a guest over. He needed to make sure Henry was ok. He stepped outside of his covers into the freezing space of his bedroom and padded across the hall.
He knocked on the door gently.
“Alex?” Henry’s voice, low and tentative, came through the darkness.
“Yeah. It’s me. Can I come in?” Alex croaked, his voice thick with sleep.
“Of course.” Henry answered more clearly, and Alex opened the door.
“I think the power’s out.” Alex said.
“Yeah, I noticed,” Henry said. “The temperature dropped a few degrees already,” Henry said, rubbing his hands together. They started at each other in the grey-darkness of the room.
Alex hesitated for a second before adding, “If it gets much colder, it could be dangerous.”
Henry blinked at him, before suggestign slowly. “We could share body heat.”
”That’s what I was thinking too. Purely practical.” Alex nodded in the dark. He wondered if Henry’s cheeks were flushed too, despite the coldness of the room around them.
“Purely practical.”
Alex walked over slowly and slid under the blankets, making sure not to jostle David too much. However, with a huff, the puppy stood up and curled himself deeper under the covers at the foot of the bed.
As they settled closer to each other, Alex felt a flush of comfort, despite a level of awkwardness.
“Are you comfortable?” Henry murmured.
”Shouldn’t I be asking you that, since you’re my guest?” Alex shot back, but he was grinning in the dark.
And even though it was dark in the room, Alex could literally feel Henry’s eyeroll, which made his grin even wider.
***
The warmth came slowly, their shared body heat pushing back the chill. At some point, Alex shifted closer, his back pressing lightly against Henry’s chest. Henry, still half-asleep, instinctively draped an arm over Alex’s side, his hand resting gently against his ribs. The weight was grounding.
Steady
For the first time in a long time, Alex felt safe.
When Alex woke again, the light of dawn was creeping through the windows, casting the room in a soft glow.
He blinked awake, realizing he was still wrapped in Henry’s arms. Their faces were close, breaths mingling in the cold air. Henry’s eyes were still closed, his expression peaceful.
But as Alex’s mind woke fully, panic gripped him like a vice. The closeness, the intimacy—it was too much, too fast.
Memories of Carly flooded back.
The way she had used intimacy as a weapon, withholding affection when it suited her, turning closeness into something transactional or using him just for her own selfish pleasure.
His breath hitched, his chest tightening. He couldn’t breathe. The walls seemed to close in around him, the weight of Henry’s arm suddenly suffocating instead of comforting.
He jerked away, scrambling out of bed so quickly that Henry woke with a start.
“Alex?” Henry’s voice was groggy, concerned. “What’s wrong? What’s going on?”
Alex stood by the window, his arms wrapped tightly around himself. “I—I can’t… I’m sorry. I can’t do this.” His voice was shaky, barely above a whisper.
Henry sat up slowly, his brows knitting together in concern. “Alex, talk to me. What’s going on?”
“I can’t…” Alex trailed off, struggling to find the words. His breathing was erratic, his vision blurry with tears. “It’s not you. It’s me. Again. I just—I can’t.”
Henry swung his legs over the side of the bed, keeping his movements slow and deliberate. “Alex, it’s okay. Whatever it is, you’re safe here. Take your time.”
Alex shook his head, his hands trembling as he gripped the edge of the windowsill. “It’s not okay. I—I don’t know how to be close to someone without thinking about her.”
“Her?” Henry asked gently.
Alex squeezed his eyes shut, the words spilling out before he could stop them. “Carly. She—she used to weaponize this. Closeness. Sex. She’d make me feel like I owed her for it, or like I wasn’t good enough for her unless I gave her exactly what she wanted.” He paused, his voice breaking. “I thought I’d moved past it, but… I guess I haven’t.”
Henry was silent for a moment, processing Alex’s words. Then, softly, he said, “Alex, I’m so sorry you went through that. No one deserves to feel that way.”
Alex sniffed, laughing bitterly. “Yeah, well. It’s not exactly a great look, panicking because someone’s just… holding you.”
Henry stood slowly, closing the distance between them with careful steps. “It’s not about the holding,” he said quietly. “It’s about the hurt she left behind.”
Alex turned to him, his eyes red-rimmed and vulnerable. “What if I’m too broken for this? For… anything?”
“You’re not broken,” Henry said firmly. “You’re human. And healing isn’t linear. It’s messy and painful, but it doesn’t mean you’re unworthy of closeness. Of… love.”
Alex stared at him for a while before releasing a breath he wasn;t aware he was holding and nodding slowly. “Thanks,” he whispered.
“You’re not alone in this. If you ever need to talk… I’m here.”
Before he could process his motions, Alex threw himself into Henry’s arms. The spiraling world around him came to a standstill, a strong arms wrapped around him.
Alex felt the weight in his chest begin to lift, just slightly, as he allowed himself to lean on someone else for a change.