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Henry is… well. Henry is pretty sure he’s having a stroke, actually. Or perhaps someone slipped something into his drink, and he’s hallucinating. Because he cannot possibly have heard what he thinks he just heard.
He has no idea what the context would have even been to have spurred such a comment.He only heard it due to one of those mysterious moments that happen every so often in crowded rooms at the most inopportune times where the volume on all conversations inexplicably lowers simultaneously, allowing one statement that was most likely not intended for mass audiences to ring throughout a space. In this case, the somewhat offended sounding announcement of one Alex Claremont-Diaz, Henry’s tragically heterosexual roommate and long unrequited crush:
“Of course I’ve kissed a guy before; I’m not homophobic. Jesus.”
Henry had just been returning from the loo and was merely steps from the booth his friends were all sharing when The Incident occurred, and he is now frozen where he stands, stunned into stillness and silence. He is reasonably sure that there are not crickets in Manhattan dive bars in January, but he could swear that he hears them, regardless. Between that and the looks on the faces of their companions, which range from gleeful (Pez) to triumphant (Nora) to exasperated (June), Henry is forced to accept that those words had, in fact, come out of Alex’s far-too-tempting mouth, in that order, for all of these people to hear. He isn’t sure what his own face is doing, but he suspects it isn’t anything remotely good.
“Oh no, he broke Henry,” Nora cackles. Henry ignores her, opting instead to drop into the chair at the end of the table before his knees give out.
“What?” Alex asks, defensive. “What did I do? Why are you all looking at me like that?”
“Alexander. Babes. My beautiful, sweet summer child,” Pez drawls, grinning. “Are you saying that you think the only way not to be homophobic is to be homosexual?”
“What? No! I’m not gay. Ask Nora. Or like, half of the girls in my freshman dorm. I’m just, like, an ally.”
June looks rather like she needs another drink, and also probably not to know just how many of his dorm mates her brother fooled around with five years ago. (Which was, incidentally, right around when Alex and Henry moved in together and Henry promptly fell in love with him. It had been a difficult year.) “Allyship doesn’t actually need to involve sticking your tongue down another dude’s throat, baby bro.”
“It’s possible you’re mixing up the concepts of allyship and experimentation,” Nora agrees.
June tilts her head. “I’m going to regret asking this, but what guy did you even kiss? And when? And why?”
Alex shuffles uncomfortably in his seat. The sound in the rest of the bar has picked up again, but he glances around as though looking for an exit, or at least a rescue. “Uh. I mean. Liam and I made out a few times in high school? But it wasn’t, like, a thing. We were just, you know, bored and horny or whatever.”
June groans and buries her face in her hands. “That poor boy.”
“Wait, Liam as in former-best-friend-who-ghosted-you Liam?” Nora asks. When Alex gives an awkward shrug, she sits back in her seat. “Oh my god, that explains so much.”
Pez is drumming his day-glo green fingernails against the table as he considers Alex. “When you say ‘bored and horny,’ dear… is it possible that things may have, perhaps, gone a bit beyond kissing? Because I wouldn’t necessarily consider kissing to be the horniest of activities, personally. At least, not on its own.”
Alex’s face goes a rather startling shade of crimson. “Erm. I mean. He may have gotten me off one time? But it wasn’t like… I mean we were watching porn together and he just sort of…” Alex makes a crude gesture that has June gagging and Nora wheezing.
Henry is going to expire.
“Look, a hand is a hand!” Alex tries. “And like, Liam is objectively hot. I’m not blind. I can recognize beauty in any gender. For instance, everyone at this table is hot. Nora’s hot, Pez is hot, the Claremont-Diaz genes clearly do not fuck around, and Henry is like, probably one of the hottest people to ever walk the planet. We all know this.”
Strike that. Henry is going to walk into traffic. Pez shoots him a sympathetic look. June glances at whatever Henry’s face is now doing and then sighs. “Jesus Christ, Alex.”
“What?!” Alex asks, sounding frustrated.
“I’m just going to… erm, I’ve remembered that David has a, ah…” Henry doesn’t finish the sentence, simply scrambles to his feet and heads for the door, grabbing his coat from one of the hooks at the corner of their booth and trying not to sprint. Because god, he is in no way prepared to deal with any of this.
Of course, Alex follows him. Because Henry cannot catch a single fucking break, and the universe thinks his life is a giant, cosmic joke.
“Henry, wait!” He’s less than half a block away when Alex’s fingers wrap around his wrist, pulling him to a stop. Despite his better judgment, Henry looks back at him. His breath is coming in visible puffs against the freezing air, and his cheeks are pink from the cold. He doesn’t have his coat on. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to, like, objectify you or make you uncomfortable.”
“It’s fine, Alex.”
“Doesn’t seem fine.”
Henry pinches the bridge of his nose. “It will be fine. It was just unexpected.”
“I don’t see how. I mean, you own a mirror, you have to know what you look like, right?”
“Please, stop.”
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean anything by it, it’s just an objective—”
“Will you stop saying objective?! There is no such thing as objective attraction!”
Alex steps back, hands raised. “Whoa, hey. I’m sorry.” He watches Henry warily. “I don’t want to push, but… am I missing something here? Because you seem, like, really upset that I called you hot.”
Henry groans, tipping his head back. “I’m not upset that you called me hot, Alex. I’m upset that you don’t seem to understand that toying with your queer male friends’ emotions isn’t being an ally. It’s actually just really fucking hurtful.”
Alex looks like he’s been slapped. “I haven’t—”
“Did you, or did you not, tell me, during our first year living together, that Liam had come out as gay when he went away to university?”
“Yeah…”
“And it never occurred to you that, perhaps, the fact that you used to get off with him and still proclaim your heterosexuality from the rooftops might have played some part in his choosing not to continue your friendship?”
“I…” Alex looks genuinely shocked, as though this is the first time he’d ever put those pieces together. “Oh. Oh, fuck.”
Henry lets out a bark of unamused laughter. “Quite.”
“Shit, I really… I really fucked up, didn’t I?” When Henry doesn’t reply, Alex goes on. “Okay, fine, I owe Liam a massive fucking apology. But it’s not like I have a pattern of leading guys on.”
Everything inside of Henry hurts. He can’t do this. Without another word, he turns to walk away.
“Henry?”
“Just leave it, Alex,” he calls over his shoulder, picking up his pace.
“Henry!” Alex’s footfalls are muffled in the snow as he runs to catch up, catching Henry’s arm once more. “I don’t understand! Who else have I supposedly toyed with? Why are you—”
And Henry… Henry has had enough. “For fuck’s sake, Alex. Me. You’re toying with me. Right here, right now. I have held my tongue for years, knowing that you would never want me the way that I want you, would never feel the things that I feel, because having your friendship means the world to me, and you can’t control that you’re straight any more than I can control that I’m gay as a goddamned maypole. But you can’t just randomly throw out to the world that you’re attracted to me, but oh, don’t worry, not in a gay way, and expect me to be fine with that. It’s not fair.”
Henry tries to pull away, but Alex’s fingers are gripping him too tightly. His eyebrows are furrowed. “Henry? Sweetheart, what are you saying?”
He cannot possibly be this dense. He just can’t. “Don’t call me that.”
Alex’s brow furrows further. “But I always—”
“I’m well aware.”
“Henry, do… are you saying you have feelings for me?”
Henry closes his eyes, not wanting to watch the confusion and hurt on Alex’s face, not wanting to see whatever it does in response to what he says next. “I’m in love with you, Alex. I have been in love with you for years.”
“Oh.” The sound is small and, confusingly, awe-filled. After a few moments, cold, tentative fingers brush against Henry’s face. He flinches. “Baby, can you look at me? Please?”
Henry shudders, a visceral thrill coursing through him at the pet name despite the pit that sits in his stomach. Against his better judgment, he opens his eyes, only to be met by a wide, brown pair full of wonder. He searches Alex’s face, unsure of what he’s looking for. Alex, whose half-frozen fingers are still softly resting against his cheek.
“Can I kiss you?” Alex asks, voice almost timid.
Henry shakes his head slightly, feeling tears pricking behind his eyes. God. All that, and he still—
“Please, Henry. I— I really want to kiss you.”
“Alex, you’re straight.”
Alex lets out a shaky breath. Well, all of him is shaking a bit at this point, to be fair. It’s below freezing and he’s in nothing but a henley and jeans. “I’m… starting to think that might not be the case.”
“Since when?”
“Since like a minute ago when you said you love me and I felt like my entire body lit up from the inside? But also probably since you first walked into our dorm room five years ago and I thought you were so pretty I wanted to fucking scream.” He shrugs, helpless. “So, yeah. Can I… Will you please let me kiss you?”
Mind completely blank, Henry feels himself nod, and then there are lips on his.
Alex tastes like cheap beer and onion rings, and his lips are freezing cold, and he’s shaking slightly, and it’s the best fucking kiss of Henry’s entire goddamned life. He groans helplessly, pressing back into Alex, who whimpers and pulls him even closer. Without knowing how they got there, Henry soon finds himself pinning Alex against the brick wall of a closed Capital One, Alex’s fingers deep in his hair and his tongue in his mouth. They kiss and kiss and Henry is burning from the inside out and he only even thinks to come up for air when he realizes that Alex is struggling to keep kissing him because of how hard his teeth are beginning to chatter.
“Don’t stop,” Alex tries to complain, but the words stutter as a shiver wracks his body.
“You’re freezing, love,” Henry chides, the endearment falling from his lips effortlessly.
Alex grins, unrepentant. “Worth it,” he manages to stammer.
“Let’s go get your coat and get you home.” Henry’s mind is still whirling, but he forces himself to focus on the practical, wrapping his arm around Alex and pulling him close, steering them back toward the bar.
“Yeah, good call. I should probably come out to everyone, anyway.”
Henry stumbles. “You—”
“—are really fucking bi, yeah.”
“You’re sure?”
“I mean, all I can really think about right now, besides trying not to become a human icicle, is getting you home so that I can talk you into letting me put your dick in my mouth. So, yeah. Pretty fucking sure.”
Henry only avoids walking into a wall by virtue of the nearest one being several yards away. “You are an absolute menace,” he grumbles.
“That’s not a no,” Alex points out, grinning.
“No, it’s not.” Henry agrees. He glances down at the delighted Alex, who is curled contentedly into his side, and shakes his head, smiling back helplessly. This ridiculous, oblivious, beautiful man will be the death of him.