Henry is just staring at him.
Which isn’t even new.
Alex is just a fucking idiot. Or he was, about this, until like, six minutes ago when he saw…when he…
“Henry?”
—
Henry slams his laptop shut and tries to catch his breath.
In hindsight, opening an attachment titled ACD-ASS was probably a mistake, but in his line of work it’s really not that out of the ordinary.
Seeing a photo of his brightest student’s perfect, beautiful backside —
“You sent your professor a photo of your *ass?”*
Alex nods miserably.
“Okay,” Nora says slowly. “Not to like, shame you or whatever. But why did you do that?”
“I didn’t mean to!” Alex groans, dropping his head onto the table with a thud. “I thought it was my assignment.”
Henry is not a lucky man.
He is privileged, and has a lot of good things in his life, but he does not have luck, as it were.
Right now, the love of his life, with whom he’s never actually had a conversation, is drooling onto the green backpack tucked under his cheek.
—
This is a hate crime.
Maybe that’s an exaggeration, but like, it’s homophobic at the very least.
Being introduced to his colleague’s brother because the guy is gay and Alex is bi is definitely fucking weird.
“Philip, that’s nice of you, but I—“
—
Alex doesn’t like the guy his roommate is dating.
He loves him.
It’s stupid. It’s so stupid. It’s actually the stupidest thing he’s ever done. To be fair to him, it happened completely by accident and without his intent or consent.
Henry is just…
—
having thoughts about this being shot through a window. this is the first time they’re kissing not caring if thousands of people could possibly see them. we’re seeing them as a witness. we’ve been allowed.
Alex can really only think of one thing.
“Is he here like, all the time? Because I don’t know that I’m comfortable with him watching me kiss you for the first time.”
Henry’s staring straight at Alex.
“Dad. Leave.”
Alex could almost swear he hears someone laughing.
“Deux, por favor. I mean sil te plait?”
Henry smiles and tilts his head. The man in the queue ahead of him is rather lovely, if not quite up on his French. Henry doesn’t judge people for not knowing the language. He’s lived here long enough to know that isn’t always the case. —
@harryxallie
writer henry living in paris meets dashingly handsome man alex in a cafe(?) (doesn’t have to be a cafe honestly, could be anywhere in paris)
(They sign a marriage licence and Henry moves into Alex’s obnoxious townhouse and spends his days writing or doing whatever he wants and being a perfect, pretty little thing to come home to.)
Henry, an entire, smitten fool, suggests, “Would you like company?”
He knows his face is turning pink.
Alex grins like he can read Henry’s mind.
“Love some, Henry.”
He’s so distracted he forgets to ask how Alex knows his name.
“Will I see you when I get back?” Henry asks, sounding for the first time today unsure of himself.
Heart racing, Alex replies, “You’ll see me literally any time you want to.”
Henry gives him the quickest, most chaste tease of a kiss, says, “Wonderful,” and then leaves.
Henry cannot let it show how thrown he is.
“Bring him to me.”
They do. The man wears a loose white shirt, suspenders and boots, hair a riot of curls, lips curled in a sneer.
“Come closer.”
The man wrenches himself from the hold of the heartrenders who’ve had his wrists.
—
Henry sighs. “He simply repeated that you love me.”
“Glad you know it now.” He looks at the chair. “Hard not to, am I right?”
Henry hurriedly says, “He says you have good taste,” and then screws his eyes shut and waves his hands in front of his face. “We’re getting off track.”—
“I’m not sure which you want me to address first.”
Standing in his apartment with his best friend talking to ghosts about being in love with him make it sort of fucking difficult to prioritize.
“First of all, I love you too.” Henry’s mouth drops open in shock. “How long?”
—
“Since the day we met. How could I not—“
“No, how long with the ghost tether, or whatever.”
“Oh.” Henry looks at the chair that is very much empty to Alex, but, he’s gathering, not to Henry. “Hush, dad, I know.”
Oh, fuck.
“Know what?”
—
“Just the one.” Right. His dad. Like that somehow makes this less weird. “How did you figure it out?”
“You just said ‘I love him, dad’ to an empty chair, which is also…” He takes a step closer. Henry looks terrified. “You love me.”
—
“It doesn’t have to mean anything. Nothing has to change. Nothing will change.”
Alex scoffs. How the fuck could this not change things? This changes everything.
“You can talk to ghosts?”
Saying it out loud makes him feel absolutely fucking insane.
—
Perhaps Alex hasn’t realized what he’s done, and Henry can just go on like this never happened. That seems the best plan, really.
He’s just locking up his office for the night when Alex runs around the corner, flushed, breathless, and sweating, and nearly barrels into Henry.
at all, let alone in HD, is properly wrong and likely a fireable offence.
This must be a mistake. Alex wouldn’t have sent that on purpose. He certainly wouldn’t have done it on the university’s email server.
—
The first thing Vincenzo did right after a year far from Hong Chayoung,
"War and art are best observed from a distance. Buonaserata, mademoiselle."
and make sure she's well.
“I didn’t think you’d be interested, considering you’re technically his boss.”
Alex should shut the fuck up. Instead, he says, “That means I shouldn’t fuck him. Doesn’t mean I can’t fuck you.”
Henry grins, drains the rest of his drink, and grabs Alex by the wrist.
—
“Just say hello. What’ll it hurt? Where’d he go? Henry!”
Fucking hell.
The kid’s like, 25.
Alex takes a breath. Henry looks him up and down.
“This is Alex. The one I was telling you about.”
“Charmed,” Henry says dryly, shaking his hand. “You’re the American.”
“Oh. Okay. Sorry to hear about—”
Eyes shut tightly, Henry interrupts him.
“I couldn’t leave without seeing you first.”
Oh my god.
“Why?”
Henry smiles like he knows every thought Alex has ever had about him. Which probably isn’t true, but makes Alex blush anyway.
Why this reincarnation of Adonis is using Henry’s backpack as a pillow for his perfect face is a mystery, but.
Christ, is he lovely.
He touches the man’s shoulder through the denim shirt he has on. He’s terribly warm and solid.
“Excuse me?”
The man startles awake. —
It’s Henry’s backpack, is the thing.
He left for a moment to get a tea in the library cafe, left his things at the table because it’s typically safe enough, and came back after 15 minutes - because Skye, the barista, can’t tell when someone is desperate to be finished talking.—
Alex kind of can’t stand it when people say that. Like being excellent enough in New York and being selected to manage the firm they acquired in London can be reduced down to that.
“Yeah. Nice to meet you.”
—
“I’m sorry, what’s happening?” Henry asks with a laugh when the man proceeds to do jumping jacks. They make his shirt ride up and his pecs move, and Henry’s luck has run out. “Are you mad?”
“No, I’m Alex. And I need to bang out 15 pages before noon tomorrow. Need to stay up.”—
Philip laughs out loud.
“He’s a little shit. I want him married and off the family books. He’s smart, and witty, and actually rather delightful once you get past the fact that he doesn’t like people to know him.”
A lot of contradictions there.
—
and heads for the door.
Henry, despite his weak protest, follows.
“You tell me. Looks like it’s about to.”
He seems rather pleased with himself. It isn’t as unattractive as it should be.
His hotel room is large enough that Henry should ask who he is.
He doesn’t.
He’s glaring.
“Hello?” he grumbles, brow furrowed in a way that is, unfortunately, the most adorable thing Henry has ever seen with his two eyes.
“Sorry to wake you, but that’s my backpack.”
The man shifts, looks at the bag, then sits up straighter.
“Shit. I’m sorry.”
—
“Yes, and I’m having a lovely time shagging the entire roster of queer men he sends my way, and I’ve no intentions of settling down and ruining that. It’s better than Grindr.”
Alex doesn’t want to find that funny and hot.
“So you just wanna take me home?”
—
“Why doesn’t he like people to get to know him?”
Philip sips his scotch and his eyes are doing a thing Alex doesn’t trust.
“Ask him.”
“I’m not going to be the one to marry him and take him off your hands.”
—
“You’re fine.” The man shoves the bag across the table and wipes his mouth lazily with the edge of his wrist, which Henry’s brain rather unhelpfully supplies a few thoughts about.
The man shakes his head rapidly and then stands abruptly, wipes his eyes.
“Power nap achieved.”—
Philip pats him on the back. “At least give it a go before you reject the idea completely.”
He watches Henry across the room. He refills his glass and then ends up glancing back over and their eyes meet.
He is awfully young.
Alex barely notices Philip walk away.
—
Henry’s glass is empty. Alex doesn’t even know why the kid is at this party. But Philip’s last name used to be on the wall, and he’s just earned a lot of money from the sale, and so maybe he pulled some strings with the guest list.
“He’s a little young,” Alex says absently. —
But fuck it. Nathan sometimes doesn’t remember to wash his bath towel. Alex doesn’t think he’s reaching when he says he’s not good enough for Henry.
On Saturday morning when Nathan’s at his jiu jitsu class, Henry arrives at the door. With bags.
Alex fucking panics. —
He’s perfect.
Alex doesn’t think anyone deserves him, but he definitely doesn’t think Nathan does.
It’s not his business, but he wants to ask Henry what the hell he’s doing with someone like Nathan. And Alex should be worried about being a bad friend or something.—
“Are you moving in or something?”
God, please don’t fucking tell him Henry and Nathan are that serious. He’ll die. He’ll actually just die.
Henry huffs out a surprised laugh. “God, no.” Oh. Good. “Nathan and I broke up. I’m heading to London for the holidays.” —
Henry at least looks like he could be a lot of fun.
Alex crosses the room. Henry smiles in his direction.
“Do you know your brother wants to marry you off to anyone decent?”
Henry scoffs out a laugh.
—
my partner saw a pic of tzp tonight and said ‘i’m into it’ which basically means he’s gotta be one of the 20 most attractive men on the planet cause when i tell you that lady does not care about men…
has anyone talked about how vincenzo dangles a man out the window for among other things threatening to put hands on cha young, before he even knows who she is. then doesn't hesitate to throw a man through the very same window when he knows her well and probably loves her?
prompt: the one thing vincenzo, jang han seok, and jang han seo had in common is that they all, at one point or another, either loved - or thought they loved - cha young
Unfortunately, liaising with law enforcement is a necessary part of his daily life. It’s, in fact, his only real job.
Don’t get caught. Don’t let anyone in the family get caught.
It’s called organized crime for a reason, and the reason is it’s Henry doing the organizing.
—
“Mm. That’s true. Perhaps you can start with your name.”
Grinning, the guy steps closer.
“Too personal. Maybe I should show you my hotel room instead.”
“Christ,” Henry laughs. “Does that usually work on people?”
The man grabs the little cup of the counter, downs it —
The man grins easily - so easily that Henry is sure it means he’s used to strangers talking to him. No surprise, really, looking the way he does, with his flimsy summer shirt unbuttoned to below his chest.
“You should see my other tricks.”
Oh. —
Henry looks at the dip of the man’s throat, the gold chain around his neck, the size of his hands.
“Cheap date, darling. Shouldn’t it cost me more than that?”
The man laughs a bit, but Henry still orders the espresso.
“I didn’t say what kind of secrets.”
—
But you can’t live in Paris and not expect to hear languages other than French. He thinks it’s pretentious when people act as though that should be the case.
The man picks up his two espressos, finishes them both in two swift sips, and Henry…
“I’m impressed.”—
Henry smiles and reaches for his croissant off the counter.
“I’d like that very much.”
He wasn’t this bold before moving here. He suspects this man has always been this way.
“Buy me another espresso and I’ll give away some of my secrets.”
—
“It’s just for a night.”
“I know.”
“I’m sorry. I don’t mean to…”
“Sweetheart, it’s fine.” Sets blankets at the end of the bed he knows she likes. The bed his daughter would be sharing with her if Alina hadn’t mixed up the dates. “When’s the last time you had a good meal?”
Henry smiles, whispers back, “Alex,” then takes Alex’s hand, stands and keeps them joined together.
As they’ve always been.
As they always will be.
He looks at the awed faces in the room, and announces - introduces - “Alex. The Sun Summoner.”
—