Chapter Text
“A library is a place where dreams begin.” – Anonymous
Alex likes his job. Part-time evenings at a local library while he goes to school during the day. It gives him time to study and access to research materials, not that it’s a law library but it still offers a nice supplement to what he gets from the university. It’s close to the bus line that runs through his campus. The Tuttle Hill Library is an old one originally funded by the Tuttle family and later donated to the city. The area it’s located in used to be upscale, time has seen some areas of older homes converted into apartments, a little rundown but still nice, but otherwise mostly a mix of middle to upper middle class, but the mix is one of the things he likes about it. Then there’s the quiet, the stacks of books and the solid wood everywhere just seem to absorb sound. Even when they are busy, it promotes a sense of calm Alex finds helps with his frenetic energy.
He also likes the regulars. There’s Annie, the mother of two, mid-twenties, who leaves her husband and children at home two nights a week so she can study quietly. She’s told Alex her husband is a mechanic and that she’s going into nursing so that her family will have a better life. She says that even though he makes good money, a family can’t make it on one salary anymore. Alex can’t disagree; he’s having a hard time keeping just himself afloat.
Dennis was homeless at forty-eight and started coming into the library to have a place out of the weather. He had been caught in a corporate layoff and never recovered; it’s hard to find a job at that age. Alex has been helping him apply for services and together they found him placement at a local shelter. He still comes in regularly to apply for jobs with the resume Alex helped him write. He hasn’t been in for a few days; he had a job interview lined up, and Alex hopes his absence means good news.
Rosa is an older woman who became a regular in the evening because of Alex. She didn’t speak a lot of English and with Alex’s Spanish, he was able to help her navigate services. The library offered an English as a Second Language class, and he was able to get her enrolled.
He even likes the blonde, he thinks. He first noticed him a couple of months ago, October 22nd, a Tuesday, not the Alex is keeping track. The guy, just a few years older than Alex, comes in several nights a week with his laptop and legal pads and he always pulls several books from the shelves, mostly historical romance, but not always. He’s polite, he always trains those sapphire blue eyes on Alex and says “Hello, Alex” when he comes in the door and again to say “Goodnight, Alex” on his way out. Alex has tried to engage him in conversation but usually just gets a shy grin and a duck of the head as he goes on his way. Nope, Alex takes it back, this has been going on for months, maybe Alex doesn’t like him. He doesn’t even know the guy’s name. Tall, broad shoulders, blonde, blue eyes, British accent, that’s all he knows.
Tonight, Alex is waiting in front of the desk when the blonde walks through the door. “Hi, how are you this evening?”
“Hello, Alex. I’m well.” he does that shy grin, head duck thing and tries to walk past.
“You know, I don’t think it’s fair at all. I find it a little rude actually.” Alex is standing directly in blondie’s path now.
“Excuse me? I’m not sure what you’re talking about Alex, and I have work to do.” the blonde tries step around.
“See, that right there, calling me Alex. Do you understand that you keep using my name and I have no idea about yours.”
The pink blush creeping up the blonde’s face was enough for Alex to decide, once and for all, that he does like the guy. And what he says next solidifies the decision.
“Henry. My name is Henry Fox. I’m sorry, you’re right, that was rude. I’ve heard some of the patrons use your name and I didn’t think to offer mine.” The blush has crept all the way up his face and the shy grin is making way for something a little more sure.
“Well, hello Henry! It’s nice to meet you, Alex Claremont-Diaz at your service. Is there anything I, your friendly neighborhood assistant librarian, can help you with this fine evening?” Alex is being happily ridiculous. If that’s what it takes to keep those blue eyes on him and the pink hue on Henry’s face, then that’s what Alex will do.
“No, no thank you. I’ll be fine, left to my own devices.” Henry ducks around Alex and heads to the table he always uses.
A few hours later, “Goodnight, Alex.”
“Goodnight, Henry. See you next time.”
A couple of evenings later, “Hello, Alex.”
Alex straightens up behind his desk and turns to face him, “Hello, Henry. How are you this evening?”
“I’m well. And you?” The blush is creeping back up slowly.
“I’m very well, thank you for asking. Must we continue to be this formal or can I just say, ‘Hey, good to see you?”
“You are a bit of menace, aren’t you?” Henry is fully pink now, but he’s smiling and Alex thinks he looks adorable.
“I have been told, yes. I consider it one of my finer qualities.” Alex is grinning ear to ear.
After that, things get easier. January becomes February then turns into March and the two men continue to make time to talk every night that Henry comes in. Henry learns that Alex is a law student at NYU, has a sister, June, he loves dearly and a best friend, Nora, who is also in a relationship with June. Alex learns that Henry is an aspiring author; he has his first novel currently in the process of being published and is working on edits. There is also a second novel in the works, which explains his nights at the library. The only family he mentions is a sister, Bea, that he speaks of very fondly.
Alex has also learned that Henry is very British, with all the storied reserve that implies, so it’s strange when Henry walks in one night almost bouncing, “Alex, hello and how are you this fine evening?”
“Are you ok? Are you drunk? Who are you and what have you done with Henry?”
“No, of course I’m not drunk. I’m in a good mood! My book has a date; it will be out soon!” Henry is beaming. He reaches into his bag and pulls out an advance copy to show Alex. “I brought you a copy.” Henry gets a bit shy holding his book, The Letters, “It’s a historical romance chronicled around the letters been the two men, I don’t know if that’s something you’ll like.”
“Oh my god, Henry! This is amazing. I can’t wait to read it. I can say I knew you when. You’re going to be famous!” Alex tries to be professional, really he does, but at that moment he just can’t help throwing his arms around Henry in a celebratory hug.
Henry’s face goes bright pink, “I don’t know how famous I’ll be, but I will be published and I agree, it’s quite an accomplishment. I’ve worked hard for this, and I am going to allow myself to enjoy it.” The hug was everything Henry had dreamed of it being, but he notices Alex doesn’t say anything about his writing gay romance. He’s smitten, but he knows pining for a straight man is the path to heartbreak. Alex is excited about his novel, but he’s clearly an ally, nothing more.
“Why do you come here to work?” It’s been about a week since the book announcement and Alex has been wondering.
Henry looks up, surprised at the inquiry, “Why, is there a problem?”
“No, no problem. I just assume you have a home. Why here?” Alex gaze is fond, curious, not judgmental, so Henry decides to answer.
“I do have a home with a study I use quite often. But sometimes you just need a change of scenery. So, two or three nights a week, for a couple of hours, I come here. I don’t like to leave David alone more than that.” Henry thinks he sees a shadow pass over Alex’s face, but it’s gone so quickly he must be mistaken. “I love old libraries like this, it’s like a recharge for me to be surrounded by these old wooden shelves groaning with the weight of knowledge. I love being in a room full of books, it’s like being surrounded by the thoughts of thousands of people and all the knowledge they felt was important to share. My dad taught me a love of reading, he told me that I could learn the whole of human experience, it was all waiting for me to find. And I just like books; I like the feel of them in my hands and the way they smell. Have you noticed all the truly old libraries have the same smell, wood and paper and bindings and glue. It’s the scent of knowledge. I know I use a laptop, but I also use my journals to handwrite ideas first. The idea is the important part, and it feels more solid when I use pen and page; the laptop then allows me to flesh it out. But it can’t replace paper. When I pick up a book, I feel the weight the author intended for their thoughts to have. You open it and get the smell of the paper, the crisp edges of the page, and the visual turning of those pages marking your progress. I like the way I feel when my eyes track racing across the sentences and I can see someone’s idea come to life. I take the cues the author leaves, and I build a picture in my mind of how a character looks or sounds, I see the shape of the streets they walk or the homes they live in. I am seeing those characters not only in the way the author intends, but also in a way that no one else in the world will ever see them. My imagination does that. Even when I read a classic that has been read by thousands before, I will find something, a sentence, a thought, that means to me what it has not meant to anyone else in precisely the same way before. A novel I have read before will have a different meaning to me today than it did when I was 18, and it will mean something different when I am 60, because my life experience informs what I take from it. Sitting in this room, I feel the history of learning that has happened here and the years of knowledge contained in these shelves, and it inspires me.”
Alex is staring, awestruck, he knows he is, and he wants to say something before it gets awkward, but he is stunned silent hearing this much passion from the usually reserved Henry. But when he hears Henry start to apologize, he has to shake himself out of it, “Don’t you dare apologize. I just hadn’t ever heard you speak like that. It was pretty impressive.”
“Books and libraries are a particular fondness of mine. The public library is about the only government program that works as it was actually intended.” Henry’s shy smile is back.
“I agree. I think librarians and park rangers may be the last bastions of freedom in this world. They both need to be defended against dark and evil forces.” Alex is smiling back, “That’s why I’m in law school. There are good people in this world and, all too often, good people trying to do the right thing run afoul of political systems that have legislated humanity of out of the equation.”
“That’s a bit braggy, isn’t it. You’re a librarian and you’re calling yourself a ‘last bastion of freedom.’ A bit full of yourself, aren’t you?” Henry uses a teasing tone.
“I’m not really a librarian, just an assistant. In reality, I’m a part-time employee trying to keep myself afloat while I finish school. We have several real librarians, starting with Ms. Bankston, the director, who went to school for this; it’s their passion and life’s work. They’re the ones I was talking about.” Alex tells him. “They’re the ones who fight for funding and develop new programs to help the community. They’re the ones who got us the new computers with resume building software and started our homeless outreach program. They started the English as Second Language classes, the children’s reading programs and all the other programs we use to help people everyday.”
“I’ve seen you work with people, Alex. I think you’re more of a librarian than you know.”
The book is days away from release and Henry’s publisher has booked him into some readings around the city to promote it. Henry has also agreed to do a reading at the library. It’ll be his first and it was a set of eyelashes that convinced him it would be good practice. To be honest, Alex’s dark eyes with his insanely long lashes could probably convince him to jump off a cliff. Add the golden Adonis physique and Henry doesn’t stand a chance. Alex has worked with his boss to set it up in one of the larger conference rooms on a Wednesday evening starting at 7:30 pm. The flyers are hung about the library and on several message boards in the neighborhood promoting The Letters as an adults only wine and cheese event for one of their own. Alex has been working with their Friends of the Library organization to host the event, and all permits have been secured to serve wine to the guests.
Alex is setting up the room, and Henry joins him in setting up chairs and making sure the bar area is stocked. Alex is excited to host his first event. “I’ve talked to all the regulars. They’re excited that someone who uses our library is being published; it’s a pretty big deal. I think most of them will try and come. Have you invited anyone?”
“My friend Pez is coming tonight, mostly for moral support. I have to admit this is a little nerve-racking. Besides, it’s a bit of a tradition to spend our birthdays together.”
“You should have told me, I would have gotten Pez a cupcake with a candle or something to celebrate.”
“It’s not actually Pez’s birthday.”
It takes Alex a second, then he falters a bit, “Henry? Why didn’t you tell me? If you had plans, I could have set this for another night.”
“No, no plans. We do what the birthday boy wants to do. When it’s his birthday, I’m subjected to clubs and loud music. On my birthday, we usually just do a movie night, bring in good food and we talk. Marking the day with my first reading seems a special way to celebrate.”
“What about David? Won’t he be here, it’s a big night for you, between the reading and the birthday?” Alex is checking the glassware supply so that his face is turned away when he asks. He doesn’t want Henry to see how anxious he is about the answer.
“Well, no, I don’t think bringing David is a good idea.”
“Why not? I would think he would want to be here to support and celebrate with you.”
“I grant you, David is a great source of comfort and emotional support, I just don’t think this is the place for him. He gets anxiety in crowds. And what if someone has allergies?”
“Why would anyone be allergic to your boyfriend? I think he should be here for you, he should at least try for something this important.” Alex can hear his voice starting to become a little shrill, but honestly, “You deserve someone that shows up for you.”
“Alex, I don’t have a boyfriend. David is my dog.”
Alex hopes his skin tone helps hide the blood he can feel rushing hot to his face. “Oh. Your dog.” Before he can feel fully foolish, he realizes the very important thing Henry just said, “Wait, you have a dog? Why have I never met him? Do you have a photo? Who names a dog David, does he also do your taxes?”
Henry is laughing, but he brings up a photo on his phone of an adorable little beagle flopped in the grass, tail captured mid-wag.
“Henry, he’s smiling. You have a dog that smiles. He looks like the bestest boy. When can I meet him?”
“I think for tonight, we need to worry about our little party. We can talk about meeting David another time.” Henry laughs when Alex pouts at this.
“Fine, party first. But I am going to meet David, that’s nonnegotiable, Henry. It’s unacceptable you’ve kept him from me this long.” Alex extends his pout to include sad, dark, puppy eyes through his insanely long lashes and Henry thinks he’ll adopt ten dogs if it makes this ridiculous man happy.
They have a nice little crowd come through the door. Alex and Henry both understand that book readings for new authors are generally not well attended, but these are their library people who have watched Henry work towards this moment. There is a sense of pride that one of them has accomplished something so impressive.
Alex sees Henry embrace a dark skinned man wearing a cobalt blue suit that matches his hair. “Alex, this is my friend, Percy. He’s been my best mate for years.”
“Alex, so you’re the one who saw fit to celebrate my Henry! Good for you, I don’t think enough people recognize the talent around them.” Pez is as exuberant in speech as in dress, “I insist you call me Pez. We’re going to be great friends.”
Alex excuses himself to get back to greeting people. Once the arrivals stop, Alex is gratified to see about 30 people show up for Henry. He knew he could count on his library family. Dennis is there; Alex hasn’t seen him in a a couple of weeks, and he is happy to report it’s because his new job keeps him busy. Annie is there, with her husband; the kids get to spend an evening with grandparents. Rosa shows up with a friend, Pilar, she’s been bringing to the English language classes. Alex notices her English is much better and he’s glad she’s sharing the class with others. Alex gets everyone situated with a glass of wine or one of the non-alcoholic options they are offering, then steps to the lectern at the front of the room. “I’m so happy to see all of you here this evening, to celebrate one of our own becoming a published author. Most of you have met, or at least seen, the blonde guy who sits at the table in corner several nights a week, and now he’s written a novel that will hold space in the stacks of this very library where it was researched and written. Henry Fox has graciously agreed to read a passage for us here tonight. The floor is yours, Henry.”
Henry has chosen a passage where the two men meet for the first time. It’s a delicate passage where one man has the realization that he has met the man who he may not be able to resist. The man knows he is bisexual, but as only ever been with women. Now he’s met a man who terrifies him due to the strength of the attraction. He ends up in the garden, alone, trying to reason himself out of his attraction. It’s an emotional passage but there is nothing graphic in this reading. Henry may write smutty romance, but that doesn’t mean that he wants to read it out loud at his first ever author’s event in front of people he knows.
He's about halfway through the reading when the door opens and three women with their children barge into the room. Alex rushes to meet them and explains that the children aren’t part of this library event. One woman stands out as being the leader of the small group and shouts “We will not tolerate this smut in our library being read in front of our children!” to which Alex can be heard calmly responding “There is no smut being read aloud here and nothing at all would be read in front of your children if you hadn’t made the decision to bring them to a late evening, adults only event. The library is not just for children; the library is also for grownups. Perhaps you should have picked a more appropriate library event to which to bring them.”
“This is a public library, and my children should always be welcome at any event, therefore any event should be child friendly. A gay writer, writing and reading about gay sex, should never be welcome here and my friends agree with me.” She tells him with a smirk on her face.
“I recognize you now, Pam, right? Well, Pam, this is an event hosted and funded by a private organization, Friends of the Tuttle Hill Library, and has been organized to be an adult only event. There is alcohol being served and it is almost eight o’clock in the evening on a school night. I personally question your parenting that you would choose to bring your small children to a wine and book event, especially this late on a school night. If you would like to have a children’s event, our director would be more than happy to help you with that, tomorrow, during the day. But this disruption is not allowed, and you can’t hold any event should you be banned from the library for disruptive behavior. I suggest you take your children home before I am forced to call for a police escort to remove you from the building for causing a disturbance. Imagine your children having to witness that.” Alex is firm, seemingly calm and speaks in a low voice, his main objective being no further scene during Henry’s celebration.
To Alex’s surprise, Dennis speaks up, “Pam, you’ve tried this nonsense before and we, the adults who are here to support Henry, would like for you to leave now and allow us to continue with our party.” To Pam’s surprise, the rest of the room begins to applaud Dennis’s speech. When Pam starts to speak up again, the applause becomes louder, drowning her out. Henry is still standing at the lectern, face somewhat pink from the support he is being shown. Alex can tell he’s trying to decide whether to hide or smile, but in that moment, with Alex watching, he sees Henry make a decision to embrace the support, straightening his spine and jutting his chin out, nodding to the group whose applause is drowning out the awful woman at the door.
She turns to Alex and huffs, “This isn’t over,” as she and her group leave the room.
“Sorry, folks, show’s over. Let’s get back to Henry’s night.” Alex announces to the group, “Henry, I believe you were at the part where James finds himself having an existential crisis in the garden, looking to the stars for answers.”
Once the night is done and the room is returned to its original state, Alex addresses the elephant in the room with them. “Are you alright? I’m so sorry that intrusion happened.”
“Nonsense, it wasn’t your fault. I must admit, I’m still a bit shaken. I wish Pez could have stayed. I would have appreciated the company tonight.” Henry does look a bit pale to Alex but otherwise okay.
“I saw him a take a call and then take off.” Alex tells him.
“Yes, it’s the shelter he runs. They had some sort of emergency, something plumbing related, and he had to go. He said he’d check in on me tomorrow.”
“I could walk you home, if you’d like the company. I have a late class tomorrow so I can sleep in a bit.” Alex hopes that didn’t sound as timid as he felt.
“I couldn’t trouble you that much. I’m sure I’m fine.” Even though he still looks pale, Henry is putting on a brave face. He doesn’t want pity from Alex.
“It’s no trouble. I’d enjoy the company. Tonight’s incident shook us both up and I think it would be okay to lean on each other a little bit.”
Henry says out loud, “Then my answer is yes, it would be lovely to have you walk me home.”
There’s a bit of a chill in the air that neither man notices walking along the sidewalk. They talk quietly about the passage Henry read from the book, the meaning of looking to stars for answers and then Alex says, “I had that same crisis when I realized I was bisexual. I was older, 20, when I realized I was attracted to men sexually. I always told myself that admiring a fit, male body was normal, just appreciating the form.” Alex doesn’t seem to notice that Henry has stopped breathing momentarily until he inhales with a large gasp.
“Jesus, Henry, are you alright? I know I’m asking that a lot tonight but seriously, I need you to keep breathing!” He claps Henry on the back a couple of times, the way he remembers his mother doing to him when he was younger and would choke.
“Yes, yes, I’m fine now, just got a little choked. I’m fine now. Go on with your story while I recover.” Henry is red in the face and still gasping a little, but Alex thinks it’s best to ignore it and spare him further embarrassment.
“If you’re sure you’re okay?” After getting nod, Alex picks up the thread where he left off. “I had always followed Rafael Luna’s legal career. Raf was a progressive senator from Colorado, but now he has his own firm here in New York, working with non-profits among other things. He’s a friend of my father, he’s biracial like me, he’s openly gay and I admire the stand he took in refusing to work for corporations. I have always followed his career and I do truly admire the things he is trying to accomplish, but... There’s always a but, isn’t there. For me, it was meeting him in person. I knew he was magnetic, but I wasn’t prepared for the full force of his many charms in person. He’s a good friend of my father’s, so when dad introduced him, he just embraced me, a friendly hug for the son of a friend, and set off an existential crisis much like the one you describe James having. I mean, I had already come to believe I was bi in theory, but that hug gave me a more, um, practical demonstration, you might say.”
They stop in front of a brownstone and Henry turns to tell him, “This is me.”
“This is you? The whole thing? Are you the long lost son of Scrooge McDuck or something?” Alex is joking, but seriously, he is stunned looking at the three story home, with craftsmen style trim. He realizes the home reminds him of Henry, simple yet sophisticated.
“Hardly, my dad left me some funds. I thought this a prudent investment. After escaping England, I wanted a permanent foothold here in America.” He notices a slight shiver run through Alex and realizes the poor man is wearing a lightweight jacket while he has on his wool coat. “That’s it. You’re coming inside for a hot cup of cocoa and to warm up. I won’t take no for an answer.” Henry may be having a fit of conscience over learning Alex isn’t as straight as he originally thought but he’ll be damned if he lets the man suffer in the cold. He’ll just have to contain himself, he’s sure he can behave.
Alex, clueless to the internal debate going on next to him, brightens visibly, “There is no way I’m saying no. This means I get to meet David.”
Alex hurries Henry through opening the door and getting inside. Soft paws click on the tile before a little beagle rounds the corner to the entry. “Oh my God, he is even cuter than the pictures.” David gives a leery look to the stranger standing in his home beside his dad.
“David, this is Alex.” Henry tells him, crouching down to scratch behind his ears, “He’s alright, I suppose.”
“Hey!” Comes an indignant response, “I am a perfectly respectable library aide slash law student, I’ll have you know. Don’t listen to him Davey, he’s the one who named you after his tax attorney.” Alex is now fully seated, cross-legged, on the floor, which seems to have earned David’s approval because the pup is crawling into his lap. Henry finds himself jealous of his dog.
“I’ll have you know, he is named for Bowie.”
“Why didn’t you name him Bowie? It was right there!”
“Bit on the nose, isn’t it. David is a very respectable name for a dog.”
“Henry, there are at least five guys named David in my tax law class.”
“When you are able to extract yourself,” Henry decides to ignore the argument for now, “I’ll have the fire going in the living room and then be in the kitchen making hot chocolate.”
“Do you have coffee, by any chance?”
“I am not encouraging your destructive caffeine habit at this time of night. The best alternative I can offer would be a cup of tea.”
“Hot chocolate would be lovely, thank you.” Alex smirks at him, “I’ll leave you the leaf water.”
By the time Henry comes back with a tray, Alex has made his way to the overstuffed chair near the fire in the living room, one hand hanging over the armrest, still scratching David’s ears. “I take it you're feeling a bit warmer?”
“Much better, thank you. I hadn’t realized how cold I had gotten until I started to warm up. It wasn’t supposed to get this cold tonight.”
“Well, I’ve made my dad’s special hot chocolate and I found a few biscuits in the kitchen. There are some Jaffa cakes and a few Jammie Dodgers.”
“What are Jabba cakes and Jimmy whatsers?”
“Jaffa, not Jabba. They are peak English biscuits, a cake base, orange jelly and a chocolate top. And Jammie Dodgers, shortbread with a bit of raspberry jam in the center. My sister, Bea, sends me care packages from England.”
“So your sister hates you. Good to know. Those look like cookies.”
“Yes, that’s what you Americans would call them.”
“Do you think calling them cutesy, weird names makes them seem more interesting than calling them biscuits? What child gets excited for a biscuit? But a cookie? That’s sounds like something you'd want.” Alex is smiling widely now, enjoying the back and forth between them.
“Technically, the Jaffa Cake is not a biscuit or a cookie, it’s a cake. Legally, it is a cake. They went to court and got a ruling on it.” Henry is trying not to smile, but it’s obvious he’s enjoying the banter every bit as much as Alex is.
“They went to court? They literally went to court to decide if a cookie is a biscuit or a cake? Do your countrymen often find themselves with too much time on their hands? Excess funds to waste in litigation? Bored to the point of court proceedings as entertainment?”
“This was serious business, I’ll have you know. Biscuits are taxed as luxury items and cakes are taxed as staples. There was a great deal of money riding on the decision.”
“Well, that’s sounds very Marie Antoinette, debating cake as a staple or a luxury. But considering you’re talking about tax laws, I don’t suppose America has any high ground. It’s really no different than the Illinois candy tax.” Alex has to concede and tries to do it graciously.
“Oh, I haven’t heard of that.”
“In Illinois, groceries are taxed differently than candy, so any candy that has flour in it, like Kit Kats, are considered groceries.” Alex shrugs, “So, yeah, I get it. Government can be ridiculously nitpicky sometimes.”
And if Henry thought he was in trouble before, seeing Alex cede to him on a fair point might be the oddly taxed cherry on the sundae that is Alex Claremont-Diaz. “I know how competitive you are. I’m sure that admission had to hurt.”
“Beyond belief. But fair is fair. But Jammy Dodges still sounds weird. And as a Star Wars fan, I think I have to say no to Jabba Cake.”
That sets them off on a discussion of all things Star Wars and another debate, which is left unsettled, about the best movie of the original trilogy.
Henry carries their empty cups back to the kitchen and notices the clock on his stove shows it’s after midnight. He returns to the living room to see Alex picking up his jacket, “It’s getting late. I need to let you get to bed.”
“It’s cold and late, Alex. Are you sure you’ll be alright? Maybe I can get a ride service to come after you.” Henry’s brow is furrowed with worry.
“I already checked, there isn’t much running tonight. I’m sure I’ll be fine.” Alex is zipping his jacket and has one hand already jammed into his pocket as the other reaches for the door. “I shouldn’t keep you any longer and even with the later class, I still need to try and get some sleep.” He opens the door and a blast of wind almost jerks it away from him, bringing with it swirls of white flakes. “And now we know why there are no rides tonight.”
Henry pushes the door shut. “It’s starting to storm. No, I won’t hear of it. I have a spare bedroom and an extra set of sleep pants you can borrow. I’ll worry myself sick thinking of you out there trying to walk home in this.” Henry is playing with the ring he always wears on his little finger, twisting it back and forth, before bringing his hand up and swiping through his hair several times.
“Ok, ok, stop trying to rub your head bald, you’re too cute the way you are, it would be a tragedy to lose the blonde. I’ll stay, under protest, because it’s really not your job to save a grown man from his own mistakes.” Alex reaches up and takes Henry’s hand from his hair, “It’s okay, I’ll stay. It’ll be easier to try and get a car in the morning.”
“You think I’m cute?”
“Henry, I think you’re beautiful.” Alex tilts his head slightly toward Henry, lips offering the invitation.
Henry pauses a moment while his brain short circuits, then forces himself back online. “You are a guest, trapped by a snow storm, in my home. I need to maintain some boundaries here or I fear I’ll take advantage of the situation. I think the best course here would be to show you to your room and then I will retreat to mine.”
Alex takes a step back and mirrors the formal tone Henry as taken, “This is my fault, I am sorry if I misread the situation. I’m happy to do whatever will make you the most comfortable, including leaving. But please know, I would not consider it taking advantage.”
“You haven’t misread me! I did want to kiss you, I mean, I do want to. I’m afraid of you, Alex! Well, no, not of you, of kissing you. Oh, bollocks, I’m messing this all up.” Henry takes a deep breath, “I’m afraid if we kiss, I won’t be able to stop and that would make me the worst sort of person to push myself on you tonight while you are trapped in my home.”
“First, I don’t believe you would push yourself on me. I believe you would respect my No at any point. But I understand this is a No from you tonight. Second, I propose we retreat to our rooms, try to get some sleep and discuss this in the morning? My first class isn’t until eleven, so I’ll have some time to talk.”
Henry sags slightly, he hadn’t realized how tense he had become, “Thank you, Alex, that sounds like a plan. Just so you know, I do have coffee here. I’ll meet you in the kitchen in the morning.” He adds a shy smile to his statement.
“I knew it! You lied about the coffee earlier!”
“I did not lie. I didn’t say I didn’t have coffee, I said I wouldn’t encourage your caffeine intake so late in the evening.”
“Semantics! You’re using semantics on me, now?” Awkwardness gone, the two banter their way to their respective bedrooms.
The next morning, Henry makes his way cautiously to the kitchen, feeling ridiculous for being so tentative in his own home, but he hears noises that tell him Alex has gotten there first and he’s concerned he has ruined the friendship between them.
“Good morning, sleepyhead!”
The greeting makes him feel better, “It’s barely 8 am. Do you remember how late it was before we got to bed?”
“Could’ve been later. I found the coffee and I’ve put your kettle on. Show me how you like your tea made? I understand you Brits are pretty picky about it.”
Alex is in the bottoms he provided and Henry realizes he has made a strategic error. He hadn’t accounted for how good Alex would look wearing his clothes and especially his soft sleep pants, which cling and move around the lower part of the body like an invitation to sin. However, the bare chest was a choice Alex made, Henry is sure he provided a loose t-shirt with the pants.
“Like what you see?”
Henry can feel the redness creeping up his face, “I’m sorry, did I forget to give you a shirt?”
“You did give me a shirt. I made a choice. Judging by the way you’re blushing, I’d say it was the right one.”
“I promise I normally have more tact and decorum than this. You seem to bring out the worst in me. I am sorry about my behavior last night.”
“Nothing to be sorry about. I’ve been thinking about what you said last night and you were right. I was a guest, trapped by a storm in your home. I’d like to think I would have that much integrity if our places were swapped.” Alex is saying the right words, but the smirk on his face tells Henry that this man is not quite done with him.
“I’m sure you would. It would have been taking unfair advantage of a captive audience.”
“Exactly! Here’s what I propose to do about it. Saturday is my day off so I’m going to be here, at your home, at promptly 7 pm. I’m going to be dressed in casual, but nice, clothing, probably my best jeans and a button down shirt with at least one more button than you’re comfortable with undone. I will be wearing a coat, because I have learned my lesson. You will invite me in while you put the flowers I’m going to bring you into a vase. When the car I order arrives we will go to this little Italian restaurant I know. Afterwards, I’m going to hold your hand while we walk around the city streets, window shop and talk about our hopes and dreams. We will ‘accidentally’ stumble across this little bar I’m familiar with because the bartender is a friend of mine. Then, we will have a drink until our car arrives and brings us back here. I’m going to walk you to the door and ask permission to kiss you goodnight. After that will be your decision, but I will be prepared to walk home with no hard feelings because I understand consent. On the other hand, this date is planned so that neither of us can claim coercion. How does that sound?”
Henry is stunned, Alex had understood him completely, planned the perfect first date and made things even between them. “I think it sounds lovely, Alex.”