Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“I’m just saying, it seems a bit more Bushwick than Chelsea to me.” Alex watched the procession go by—a man with a white tipped cane leading a string of perhaps a dozen people with their eyes closed, each with one hand on the shoulder of the person in front of them.

June tilted her head to the side, considering. “I don’t know, it seems pretty site-specific. Being up here gives you a kind of surround sound vibe that’s probably way more disorienting than it would be on the ground.” 

“Plus, I think if you tried that in Bushwick, someone would get run over by a semi truck,” Nora added without looking up from her phone. Her thumbs moved rapidly for a few more seconds before a grin lit up her face. “Hah! The artist’s main exhibition is like four blocks from here. Suck it, Alejandro.”

Alex pondered that for a moment. “Huh. I thought it was illegal to do non-pretentious art within walking distance of any of the major galleries. Today I learned.”

June raised an unimpressed eyebrow. “You know that saying that makes you sound even more pretentious than the art you’re judging, right?” 

“June, Gagosian has another Damien Hirst show opening next month.”

She wrinkled her nose. “Point.”

The three of them were lounging on a patch of grass on the High Line—an old elevated train track turned public park on Manhattan’s west side—people watching and trying to counteract the sweltering New York summer heat with artisanal popsicles that Alex would have been tempted to make fun of if they weren’t so good. (His was plum flavored and had basil in it, and he’d mostly chosen it out of morbid curiosity. He kind of hated how much he liked it.) It was one of the increasingly rare days where all three of their schedules aligned, and Alex basked in the easy rhythm of banter with his sister and his ex-girlfriend-turned-best-friend.

“You don’t go to the Chelsea galleries for the art unless you’re rich,” Nora pronounced. “You go to drink free wine and pretend to be fancy and then mock it all mercilessly later.”

“Nora, your parents are millionaires.”

“And yours are politicians, but you don’t see me blaming you for that.”

Alex snorted, but couldn’t help smiling. “Whatever. Okay, new game. Backstories.”

“Ooh, yes.” June, who had been leaning back on her elbows and tilting her head back to soak in as much of the midday sun as possible, sat up and crossed her legs, reengaging. “Me first.” Her eyes were hidden behind wide-framed sunglasses, but Alex could tell that she was scanning the crowd carefully before she finally gave the slightest of nods to her right. “Two o’clock. Grey hoodie and flip flops.”

Trying not to be obvious, Alex glanced where she’d indicated, quickly spotting a girl with the hood of her oversized sweatshirt pulled up over long, ultra-straight black hair and sunglasses even larger than June’s. She wore strategically ripped denim booty shorts and a bored expression. “Hmm. Aspiring influencer trying to look more famous than she is in the hopes that she’ll end up on a tabloid cover.”

“Ouch.”

“Okay, my turn.” Alex only did a peremptory sweep of the people walking by before indicating a pretty woman who looked to be in her mid 40s with chaotic red curls barely restrained in a large bun and a tea length sundress patterned with brightly colored fruit. “What about her?”

“Ms. Frizzle on summer break,” June returned immediately.

“I’d ride her Magic School Bus,” Nora said, waggling her eyebrows exaggeratedly. June smacked her lightly with the back of her hand.

“Don’t be a creep, Nora.”

“Fine. Alright, who’s next…” Her eyes narrowed, and she spent several long moments looking around before her eyes lit up. “Ooh, okay. That guy.” 

Alex followed her gaze until his eyes landed on, objectively, the hottest person he had ever seen. Sandy haired and strong jawed, he was sitting midway up a long set of tiered wooden benches, a cardigan pushed up over his muscular forearms, leaning artfully over a small notebook that was balanced on one knee, which he was scribbling in with what appeared to be an honest-to-god, old school yellow pencil. Alex let out a huff of laughter. “Jesus Christ. That can’t possibly be a real person.”

June looked at the guy and then back over at Alex, raising both eyebrows.

“What?” he asked, defensive. “Look at him! He looks like a fucking Banana Republic ad! He’s wearing a goddamned sweater in ninety-some degree heat! There’s no way he’s not part of, like, some sort of faux-candid photoshoot or something.” He looked back over at the guy, squinting. “Plus, he looks kinda familiar. Nah, no fake backstory needed, dude’s for sure a model or some shit.”

Nora studied the guy more closely. “Nope. 84% chance he’s just minding his business and your latent bisexuality is showing.”

“Oh, come on.”

“You’re so sure?” Nora asked, and the glint in her eyes told Alex, very clearly, that nothing good was going to come from this. So, of course, he doubled down.

“100%. Photoshoot, performance art, whatever, I don’t care. That is not just some guy hanging out on the High Line looking like he just… I don’t know, wandered off of some beach in England where he was staring moodily out to sea waiting for his lost love or some shit. There’s no way.”

“Fifty bucks says you’re wrong.”

“And how the fuck do you intend to settle that bet?”

“Easy. You go ask him.”

Alex’s mouth dropped open, and June—traitor that she was—cackled. 

“Seriously?”

“Seriously. You’re so sure, go ask him.” Nora’s grin was Cheshire Cat levels of smug, and Alex regretted every single one of his life choices. He took a deep breath. Alexander Claremont-Diaz was many things, but a coward was not one of them. He steeled himself and got to his feet.

“Fine. Be right back.” With a confidence he absolutely did not feel, he started toward the man, calling back over his shoulder, “I accept Venmo.”

Nora just gave him a sarcastic little wave before shooing him away.

Alex’s hands clenched and released as he made his way over, stopping a few steps from where the guy was sitting to drop his popsicle stick in a conveniently-located trash can and collect himself. Putting on his most charming smile—the one that got him into and out of trouble on a probably-too-regular basis—he sat down on the bench below the stranger, cross-legged and facing backward, and looked up at him. “Hey, sorry to bother you, man. I’ve got kind of a weird question.”

The man looked up, and Alex felt his breath stutter slightly at the vibrancy of the blue eyes that were suddenly staring into his. Up close, his face was even more perfectly sculpted than it had seemed from afar. What the fuck? Were people even allowed to be this hot?

The man blinked a few times before wrinkling his eyebrows in puzzlement. “Erm, hello?” And he was British. Because of fucking course he was. He continued to stare at Alex, who raised his own eyebrows questioningly. “Ah, what was that?”

“I said I have a weird question for you.”

“Okay?” 

“What are you here for?”

“I… what?” 

Alex had to bite back a laugh. Every word out of this guy’s mouth sounded politely puzzled, and it was… weirdly charming. “What are you here for?” He gestured at the park around them. “Is it like a magazine shoot, or…”

The man looked, if possible, even more confused. “I don’t follow.”

Alex sighed. “Okay, look. You’re clearly like… here for something.” This time, he gestured at the guy himself. “You’re not just like, hanging out dressed like that in this kind of heat and writing in a journal or whatever. So what’s the deal? Are you a model? Actor? Some kind of performance artist?”

And now the guy was blushing. It was… extremely cute in ways that Alex was in no way ready to consider, so he just waited (semi) patiently for an answer.

“Erm… no. I’m just here. Writing.” He looked so embarrassed that Alex had to blink several times, letting his mind adjust. Because the dude was serious.

“Seriously?” he asked anyway, because he was stupid and had no control over his own mouth. Awesome.

“I’m afraid so.”

“Shit. I just lost fifty bucks.” At this point, the man looked like he’d grown resigned to a fate of being confused forever. Taking pity, Alex added, “I sorta made a bet with my friend that you were part of some kind of project.” He bit his lip, considering. “Wanna lie to her and say you’re doing a photoshoot and split fifty bucks?”

The man let out a startled laugh. It was a shockingly bright counterpoint to their conversation thus far, and Alex suddenly wanted nothing more than to make it happen again. Frequently. He grinned. The man closed his notebook and held out a hand, smiling back slightly crookedly. “I’m Henry.”

“Nice to meet you, Henry. I’m Alex.” Henry’s hand was warm in his, but not sweaty like he might have expected considering the guy was wearing a fucking sweater in ninety degree heat. “So, what do you say? Wanna help me scam my friend Nora?”

“Oh, why not.” Henry huffed out another small laugh, standing and stowing his notebook and pencil in an artfully worn leather satchel that Alex hadn’t noticed before and slinging it over one broad shoulder. “I wasn’t getting much done anyway.” 

Alex smiled. This was going to be fun.

Chapter Text

As Henry moved to follow Alex, presumably back toward where his friend was waiting, he couldn’t help but feel like he was having some sort of Midsummer’s Dream-esque hallucination. He wondered if he’d dozed off in the blistering heat. He couldn’t think of a better explanation for how this beautiful, puckish stranger—all sparkling eyes and mischievous smile and wild curls—had more or less materialized by his feet and convinced Henry to go along with this strange game. Henry was not, traditionally, a particularly spontaneous person. But something about Alex made it almost impossible not to get caught up in the slipstream of his chaotic energy. 

They’d only walked a few meters when Alex stopped short in front of two young women lounging in the grass, one resting her head on the thigh of the other, who was licking what appeared to be melted popsicle off her own wrist. “Henry, this is my sister June and my friend Nora. Nora, June, meet Henry. He graciously came over with me to confirm that he is, in fact, up here for a fashion shoot.”

Popsicle girl—Nora, apparently—gave him a look that felt entirely too knowing for someone he’d met approximately three seconds ago. “Is that true?”

“I—” Henry opened his mouth, closing it again and feeling himself flush as she stared him down. “No.”

Alex gasped, his head whipping around toward him. “Traitor!”

“I’m sorry! I’m a terrible liar!” Henry grimaced helplessly at Alex as Nora let out a victorious “Hah!” and the other woman— June , he reminded himself—giggled helplessly.

“Told you so,” Nora gloated. “Bisexuality 1, Alex 0.” Henry felt his eyebrows shoot up.

“Nora!” Alex hissed, and she grinned in a way that made Henry wish very much never to cross her. She went on, her gaze staying on Alex even as she addressed Henry. 

“He thought you were too hot to be a real person.”

“That is not what I said! I just pointed out that it’s too hot out for that sweater and made fun of his pencil.”

“You didn’t say anything about a pencil,” June chimed in, sounding amused, as Henry, who had begun to feel himself blushing at Nora’s words, gratefully accepted the redirection. “What’s wrong with my pencil?”

“No one uses wooden pencils in real life!” Alex’s voice was full of indignation that seemed somewhat disproportionate to the topic at hand. Henry’s brain rather unhelpfully quoted J M Barrie at him: Fairies have to be one thing or the other, because being so small they unfortunately have room for one feeling only at a time. He tried very hard not to laugh. He suspected that Alex would not be amused at the comparison.

“Billions of wooden pencils are made every year, babe,” Nora informed Alex, smirking.

“Whatever,” he grumbled.

“Tell you what.” Nora patted Alex’s calf consolingly. “I’ll let you keep your fifty bucks for managing to talk to a stranger without getting the cops called on you.”

And Henry was clearly still not in full control of his brain, because without meaning to, he heard himself say, “Well, I was hardly going to get a stranger murdered for being a little odd, now was I?”

Alex’s jaw dropped in shock before he let out a loud, surprised laugh. “Damn, dude! I want to be salty about a Brit criticizing my country, but you’re not wrong. And I gotta respect an ACAB joke.” Shaking his head, he folded himself down onto the grass and looked up at Henry. “I guess I forgive you for sucking at acting. Wanna stay and hang for a bit?”

He should probably go. He’d intended to go to one more presentation at the conference he was in town for before calling it a day, just to show his face. But his concentration was shot after listening to so many lectures on niche areas of historical research, and the heat felt so nice after hours and hours in the over-air conditioned hotel where the event was being held, and— 

Well. And Alex. Who was gorgeous and weird and funny and apparently found Henry attractive, if his flustered response to Nora’s teasing was anything to go by. Alex, who piqued Henry’s interest in a way that no one had in quite some time, if ever. Henry’s life had been nothing but research and writing and research and editing and more editing and then presenting and traveling and presenting some more for so long that he barely remembered what it had been like before he’d started his book other than to know that it hadn’t been all that much more interesting, unless Pez managed to drag him off to one thing or another against his will.

To hell with it, he decided. If the universe wanted to offer him an unexpected adventure, he would take it. He was tired of being predictable.

“Alright,” he said. “Why not.”

Removing his cardigan, he spread it on the ground and settled in next to the trio, unbuttoning and rolling up his shirt sleeves now that the chill had receded from his bones. He heard June snort-laugh and looked up at her, only to see her watching Alex. Henry glanced over just in time to catch the other man snapping his gaze away from Henry’s arms. A warm tingling filled him, and he had to press his lips together hard so as not to look as enamored as he already was. From what he’d gathered thus far, Nora and June could be ruthless in their teasing, and he wasn’t sure whether or not being a complete stranger would shield him from that.

Alex cleared his throat. “Okay but for real, though, why are you wearing a fucking sweater in August? I’ve got a high heat tolerance, and I want to pass out just looking at you.” Nora’s eyes glittered and she began to open her mouth, but before she could say a word, Alex had clapped one of his hands over it and was glaring at her. “Nora, I know where you sleep.”

“Oh, let him be,” June cut in, smiling even as Alex yelped and pulled his hand back, making a disgusted face that Henry could only interpret as meaning he had just had his palm licked. “I think it’s cute he’s got a crush.”

“I’m going to murder you both and disappear into the wilderness,” Alex groaned, burying his face in his hands and then immediately sitting back up to wipe his recently-licked palm on his shorts. “Oh, gross. ”

Nora cackled, and Henry did his very best not to laugh, although he was sure his amusement was audible as he tried to answer the original question as though the teasing interlude hadn’t happened. “I’ve been in a conference center all morning, and they had the temperature set to arctic. I’ve only just thawed enough to feel my hands fully.”

“What kind of conference?” June asked.

“History. I, er, had a book published recently and my manager has been trying to get me onto panels and things wherever possible for publicity.” 

June perked up. “Ooh, what kind of book?”

“June’s a journalist,” Alex explained. “She covers a lot of stuff, including book reviews.”

“I see. Well, I think it’s unlikely that mine has crossed your desk, as small release historical nonfiction isn’t a huge seller, but it’s about the hidden queer history of the United Kingdom.” Henry tried to smile, but it felt a bit stilted. Based on the earlier teasing, the trio seemed highly unlikely to be homophobic, but his area of research was fairly telling, and sharing it had occasionally led to some less than pleasant reactions.

Thankfully, aside from a very pointed look at Alex by Nora, the only reaction was a genuine-sounding “that sounds fascinating” from June before the conversation moved on.

Spending time with Alex, June, and Nora was strangely comfortable. The rapport the three of them had was easy, their conversation flowing smoothly from one topic to the next, serious in one moment, teasing and bickering in the next. They included Henry seamlessly when he had something to contribute but it didn’t feel awkward when he simply sat and listened, amused by the ways they all played off of one another, all three whip smart and ready for a debate on just about anything. 

Alex, especially, was a wonder to behold. He fairly sparkled, seeming to almost vibrate, as though his physical body couldn’t contain all that he was. One moment, he was making a sarcastic quip; the next, he was expressing some deep insight; and the next, he was being a stereotypical bratty younger brother, riling June up in a way that made Henry miss his own sister, Bea. In short, he was mesmerizing.

Henry wasn’t sure how much time had passed when June suddenly gave him a somewhat concerned look. “Hey, Henry? You’re going a bit pink. Do you have sunscreen on, or—” 

Henry looked down at his forearms, pressing a finger lightly to one and grimacing as he watched the pale fingerprint that appeared slowly fade away. “Christ. Right, I suppose I should go take a cold shower and find some lotion to try to minimize the damage. Otherwise my last few days here are going to be deeply unpleasant.” He sighed, getting to his feet and gathering his bag and cardigan. “It was lovely meeting you all. Truly. Thank you for inviting me to join you.” 

June and Nora both waved cheerfully at him. Alex, however, held his gaze for several long moments, opening his mouth as though to say something before closing it again, swallowing, and giving him a smile that felt less genuine than those he’d been so generous with over the course of the day. “Great meeting you, too, man,” he finally offered. Henry felt a pang of unexpected disappointment, nodding and turning to leave. He’d barely made it two steps, however, before he heard a yelped “ow!” from behind him, followed by the sounds of a scuffle. When he turned back in concern, he was met with the sight of Alex standing up, brushing grass from his knees and glaring back at his two companions before turning to give Henry a sheepish look.

“Everything alright?” Henry asked him. 

“Yeah, totally. Just, um. You said the conference ended tomorrow, so I was just, you know. Wondering. What do you have up for the rest of your trip?” It was hard to tell, with Alex’s darker complexion, but it almost looked like he might be blushing.

“Oh!’ Henry felt a hopeful flutter in his chest, but tried to tamp it down. “Just… normal tourism things, I suppose. I’ve only been to New York a few times, so I thought I’d take a few days to explore.”

“Right. Cool. Well, uh. No pressure or anything, but I’ve got a pretty open weekend if you want to, like, grab a drink or something?”

It was the most uncertain Henry had seen Alex since the moment he’d first approached him, and something about it settled Henry’s own nerves into something warm and welcome. He smiled. “I would love that, Alex.” 

Alex’s face split into a grin. “Awesome. Here, give me your phone, I’ll text myself so we have each other’s numbers.” Behind them, Henry was vaguely aware of the sound of two girls squealing in glee.

After exchanging information, they said a quick goodbye, and Henry headed back towards his hotel. By the time he got back to his room, he already had a message:

High Line Hottie
go get some aloe vera from duane reade
its better for sunburn than lotion
sweet dreams 😘

Despite the slight sting of his burned skin, Henry fell asleep smiling.

Chapter Text

It was 2 AM, and Alex couldn’t sleep. This was not, unfortunately, unusual. What was unusual was the cause of his insomnia—namely, that he had quite-possibly-but-not-definitely asked a guy on a date. Like, he was pretty sure it was a date. June and Nora had made it very clear that they thought it was a date. But neither he nor Henry had actually SAID it was a date, and, more to the point, neither he nor Henry had actually SAID that they weren’t… Well. Straight.

And yes, okay, Henry had written a book about queer history. So that was a pretty solid clue. But Alex didn’t want to assume. And yeah, Nora had basically announced Alex’s much debated, purely theoretical, not-even-definitely-a-thing bisexuality as though it were a fact. Which he had to admit wasn’t entirely un fair, given his somewhat visceral reaction to Henry’s forearms. And face. And possibly his ass as he was walking away before Alex was basically assaulted by his sister and best friend in an attempt to force him to ask the guy out. So there was that.

It was fine.

It was definitely fine.

Except for the part where it super was not fine, because it was 2 AM and Alex was panicking about planning what might be his first ever date with a dude—a dude who, coincidentally, was definitely the hottest person Alex had ever interacted with—while still in the middle of a sexuality crisis.

Although that last part was becoming a bit less of an issue, because, well. If he was straight, he would probably not be panicking over how hot Henry was or whether this was even a date in the first place.

Sighing, Alex pulled up a calendar of NYC events happening over the next few days, scrolling to see if anything looked interesting. He’d initially proposed a drink, but given all that the city had to offer in the summers, it seemed sort of boring to just pick a random bar. After noting a few promising possibilities, he pulled up Henry’s contact.

Alex
hey
i have a couple ideas for this weekend
(don't judge my sleep schedule btw)
shit i hope you use dnd overnight
i'm gonna feel like a dick if i woke you up

Alex jumped as his phone buzzed with an incoming message almost immediately.

BRM Henry ✏️
I wasn’t asleep, so I can’t really judge.
Although at least I’ve got jet lag to blame. What’s your excuse?

Alex
i'd blame law school, but tbh i'd be lying
i've always kept kinda weird hours
anyway, sleep is for the weak

BRM Henry ✏️
Is that so?
Well, I suppose that makes me feel slightly better about my own sleep schedule, if slightly alarmed for you.

Alex
thought you said it was just jet lag?

BRM Henry ✏️
Yes, well. I was lying. I do try to at least PRETEND to be a functional adult human being.

Alex laughed.

Alex
well since you're up anyway
i was thinking it would be kind of a waste to just get a drink when you don't have much time in the city
so i looked up what's happening on saturday and i have a couple ideas

BRM Henry ✏️
Color me intrigued.

Alex
is intrigued a shade of pink? because if so too late
although actually
one of my suggestions was gonna be that the ny phil is doing a free concert in central park
but it's gonna be hot and sunny again so

BRM Henry ✏️
First of all, I hate you. Although the aloe helped, so thank you for the tip.
Secondly, whilst I am perfectly able to wear sunscreen, thanks ever so, it perhaps might be better to steer clear of outdoor activities.

Alex
you're welcome
so scratch the concert
how do you feel about outdoor activities at night though?

Three dots appeared and then disappeared. After a moment, they appeared again. Alex furrowed his brow before rereading what he’d just sent and groaning. Jesus fucking Christ. Finally, after a few very long, very painful seconds, his phone vibrated in his hand once more.

BRM Henry ✏️
Skipping right past the buying me a drink part, then, are we?

Alex rolled his eyes.

Alex
stfu
i MEANT that there are a few outdoor movie screenings after dark
if you're cool with coming to brooklyn, prospect park is showing labyrinth

It took a few minutes for Henry to respond—just long enough for Alex to begin panicking about all the ways he might have already fucked this up.

BRM Henry ✏️
Sorry, I had to look something up. That would actually work perfectly for me. I’m rather fond of David Bowie—my dog is actually named for him—and there’s also an exhibition I wanted to see at the Brooklyn Museum while I’m here, which seems to be in the same general area.

Alex
oh nice yeah that's like right there
the brooklyn museum is awesome
so, your dog's called bowie?

BRM Henry ✏️
David, actually.

Alex
…
right 
i have notes but i'm gonna leave it for now 
what's the show?

BRM Henry ✏️
Tacit objection noted and disregarded. David is perfect exactly as he is and I shan’t hear anything against him.
The show is called Hide/Seek.

Something about that rang a bell for Alex.

Alex
that sounds familiar

BRM Henry ✏️
It’s had rather a lot of controversy around it. The full title is Hide/Seek: Difference and Desire in American Portraiture, and it’s focused on queer identities. The Smithsonian was hosting it, and after a religious group caused a huge uproar, they censored a video that was perceived as anti-Catholic. It was all quite dramatic.

Alex
oh shit right
i remember my parents ranting about boehner and cantor trying to get the whole thing canceled
that was some bullshit

BRM Henry ✏️
Quite. Anyway, the Brooklyn Museum has it now as a touring exhibition, and they’ve included the piece that was removed.

Alex
nice
give it up for brooklyn

Once again, three dots appeared and disappeared and reappeared a few times. Then—

BRM Henry ✏️
You could join me? Make a day of it.

Alex grinned.

Alex
let's do it

—

Henry showed up to the museum in an extremely well-fitted polo shirt in a shade of blue that made his eyes look unnaturally bright and a pair of tight jeans that made Alex want to pass out.

Henry smiled at Alex like he was more excited to see him than the museum. 

Henry, after insisting on buying Alex’s ticket, asked him if he’d intended this to be a date. 

Alex froze. “I mean…” He searched Henry’s face, trying to surmise if there was a correct answer to the question he’d been pondering himself for the last two days. “Did you want it to be?” he finally asked.

“Well, I’d like to spend the day with you either way, if you’ll have me,” Henry said, and Alex was both relieved and irritated by the non-answer. Like, hooray for being on the same lack-of-page, but he could really use some guidance on how this was supposed to go.

“Cool, yeah, definitely. But like…” he let the sentence trail off, hoping for a bit more of a hint on what Henry was thinking.

Henry’s cheeks were a bit pink. “It’s just… well, I couldn’t quite tell from the way that Nora was teasing you whether you’re actually bisexual or if she was just picking on you or making some sort of inside joke, and I didn’t want to assume.” 

Alex could feel himself flushing in response. “Ah. That. Um, maybe both?”    

Henry’s brow furrowed. “Sorry?”

“Maybe both. Like definitely she was picking on me, but also she’d 100% put money on my being bi if my sister were willing to take her up on the bet, which she isn’t, because they’re both the worst and have nothing better to do with themselves than speculate about my orientation and then bug me about it, apparently. But yeah, it’s sort of a work in progress? I don’t know.” Alex was spiraling. Out loud. Cool. He grimaced. “Can I get back to you on the ‘whether it’s a date’ thing?”

Alex couldn’t read the expression on Henry’s face at all, but in the end, the “alright,” he gave sounded more fond than anything, so Alex chose to just accept it, move forward, and try not to overthink things. They headed into the exhibit.

Henry knew about queer art and artists and told Alex stories about the personal lives of the people featured in the exhibition as though he was gossiping about people in his extended social circle instead of giving an impromptu art history lesson.

Henry listened attentively when Alex added in his own rants on American history as it related to some of the pieces in the exhibition and laughed at his snarkier commentary.

Henry let Alex take him up to the open storage section of the museum and looked around the cool, dark, quiet room full of cases and cases of art and historical objects with an expression of awe that Alex knew echoed his own when he’d first explored this space.

Alex was kind of obsessed.

After a couple of hours poking around various corners of the museum, Henry suggested grabbing dinner, and Alex took him to a local Korean barbecue taco spot that he tried to hit most times he was in the area. “I always feel like I’m betraying my people when I come here,” Alex admitted as they waited to order, “but the bulgogi is legit to die for.” Not long later, watching Henry lick dripping sauce from his own wrist, Alex mentally amended that statement—the bulgogi was going to kill him. Also, he really wanted to be the one licking that sauce off Henry’s smooth, pale skin. Which, well. Was not a particularly straight thought. Trying to distract himself, Alex asked, “So how did you end up writing a history book, anyway?”

“It started as my PhD thesis,” Henry told him. Looking a bit embarrassed, he added, “Participating in this conference and all of the other networking I’ve been doing around the book’s release has been part of trying to find a postdoc position, actually. I don’t particularly like that part of the process, but needs must, and there are a few programs in America that I’m interested in.” He took a sip of water and changed the subject to Alex. “You said you’re in law school, right? What’s that like?”

“Pretty nonstop,” Alex told him, thinking about the endless hours of class and studying and work and student orgs. “I’m heading into my final year, and I just wrapped up an internship at the ACLU last week, so right now is sort of my last hurrah before I have to be a fully fledged grown up.”  

“You’re interested in working in civil rights, then?”

“Yeah, that’s the plan. I used to want to go into politics like my parents, but, I don’t know. The way things have been going in this country lately, I realized at some point that I wasn’t sure that was how I could do the most good, you know? The system is so fucked, working from inside it just seems… not for me. Like, it’s still important, obviously, but… I don’t know. I’m tired of playing nice with people who think I don’t deserve rights just because of who I am.” He gestured vaguely at his arm, where his skin was even browner than usual from basking in the summer sun whenever he got a chance over the past few months. “Having to do that every day just sounds exhausting. And depressing.”

Henry nodded, eyes understanding. “I’m familiar with that feeling. Not for the same reasons, obviously,” he hurried to add, “but, well. My family is rather… prominent, and the upper echelons of British society aren’t always the most welcoming of people with my predilections .” His mouth twisted in a wryly resigned half-smile. “Honestly, it’s part of why I’m looking for positions abroad; my grandmother has grown increasingly insistent on marrying me off to a ‘suitable young lady’ in recent years. She does not, unfortunately, see my being rather extraordinarily homosexual as sufficient reason not to carry on the family line, as it were.” 

Alex made a gagging sound. “She sounds delightful.”

“Quite.”

“And you can’t just… say no?”

Henry sighed. “I have. But it doesn’t stop her from inviting a parade of ‘eligible’ women to various occasions with the flimsiest of excuses. I can dodge her attempts, more or less, it’s just… tiring.”

Alex wrinkled his nose. “Gross.”

Henry laughed. 

Glancing at his watch, Alex realized they should get moving soon if they wanted to get a decent spot on the lawn. “Right, so I was thinking we’d swing by a liquor store for wine for the park. Sound good?”

“Is that legal?” Henry asked, eyebrow raised. “I thought there were open container laws in New York.”

Alex grinned. “Interestingly, you can fit a whole bottle of wine into a Nalgene bottle, and if the bottle happens to be NYU purple, white is pretty indistinguishable from water.” He pulled an empty bottle out of his backpack and dangled it in front of Henry’s face. Henry’s other eyebrow shot up to meet this first. 

“And is that loophole something you picked up in law school?”

“Obviously.” Alex winked, and Henry failed to bite back a huff of laughter.

“You’re a miscreant.”

“You like it.”

Henry sighed, looking put upon. “I do.” He shook his head. “Alright, lead the way.”

Before too long, they were settled onto the blanket Alex had stowed in his backpack that morning on a stretch of grass, passing the Nalgene—sweating with the chill of the pinot gris that Alex had insisted on paying for despite Henry’s objections—between them as they waited for the movie to begin. Their conversation meandered, touching on everything from pop culture to politics, and Alex found himself enraptured by Henry’s continually surprising mix of humble sincerity, sharp insightfulness, and wry wit. Henry was in the middle of an impassioned rant about JK Rowling’s complete decimation of her own legacy and the unforgivable harm she was causing to the LGBTQ+ community, the golden glow of the sinking sun gilding his hair and making his eyes sparkle, when Alex heard himself blurt, “Can I kiss you?”

Henry’s jaw snapped shut mid-sentence and he stared at Alex, blinking. Alex bit his lip, feeling his face heat as the silence stretched on, preparing to backpedal in the face of imminent rejection. Before he could come up with a suitably lighthearted dismissal, however, Henry swallowed and let out a somewhat strangled, “Yes.” He cleared his throat. “Please.”

With a shaky breath, Alex leaned in, bracing one arm on the blanket and reaching out with his other hand to slide his fingers into Henry’s silky, sun-warmed hair. It felt like heaven. Henry’s lips were soft and tasted of dry white wine. He made a quiet sound that Alex felt down to his toes as their mouths met, one hand wrapping gently behind Alex’s neck as he kissed him back slowly. His lips parted slightly, encouraging Alex to deepen the kiss—an invitation Alex gladly accepted. At the first brush of tongues, his brain went blissfully blank. 

Alex liked kissing. He’d always liked kissing. Not just as a step on the way to something else, but for its own sake. He liked the intimacy, the sweetness of it. It was just… nice.

Kissing Henry was so much more than nice. 

Alex nipped at Henry’s bottom lip, unable to help himself, and Henry groaned, sending a shiver down Alex’s spine. They made out for several more long moments, every one of Alex’s nerves tingling where his skin touched Henry’s, before Henry pulled back. “We should probably stop,” he said, reluctantly. “There are quite a few people around, and I’m not particularly keen on exhibitionism.” He leaned back in, stealing another quick kiss. “Although you make a compelling case.”

Laughing shakily, Alex ran a hand through his hair. “Right.” He flopped to the side until he was lying prone on the blanket, staring up at the sky. Henry emulated him. After a couple of seconds, he reached out, brushing his fingers against Alex’s. Alex took his hand gratefully.

“So, verdict on this being a date, then?” Henry asked, sounding far more composed than Alex felt. Alex snorted, pinching the pad of Henry’s palm.

“Shut up.”

Henry’s smile was audible when he went on, ignoring the direction. “And railing against transphobia is what does it for you?”

Alex groaned. “Oh my god, shut up , I take it back, I don’t want to kiss you at all.”

“Yes, clearly.”

“Fuck off.”

“Well, if you insist…” Henry made to sit up, and Alex tightened his fingers, pulling him back down as Henry laughed.

“Get back here.”

Henry grinned down at him, and Alex rolled his eyes. “The movie’s starting.”

They shifted around to see the screen better and Alex let the familiar opening music wash over him. When Sarah called for the Goblin King, Alex whispered to Henry, “when I was a kid and June was really annoying me, I used to think about trying that.”

Henry glanced over at him. “Did you ever?”

“Nah. I couldn’t figure out how to change it so that Gareth would come for me and not her.”

“You wanted to be abducted?”

“I mean… yeah. Why should she have all the fun?”

“Of being abducted,” Henry repeated.

“By David Bowie in spandex and eyeliner,” Alex countered. Henry stared at him silently, looking amused. Alex wrinkled his brow at him. “What?”

“And you thought you were straight until… when exactly?”

Alex opened his mouth, closing it again when he couldn’t come up with a defense. “I mean…” He trailed off, and Henry patted his hand sympathetically, clearly trying not to laugh. Alex glared at him halfheartedly. “Fuck you.”

“Perhaps another time.” Henry’s devilish smirk effectively wiped away what little irritation Alex had managed to muster as his brain enthusiastically ran through a truly staggering number of extremely compelling mental images at lightning speed. Fuck.

Despite Henry’s earlier assertions, he didn’t prove very successful at avoiding PDA, and he and Alex ended up kissing through as much of the movie as they actually watched. By the time the final credits rolled, Alex’s lips felt swollen, Henry’s hair was hilariously disheveled, and they were both grinning rather dopily. They held hands as they made their way back to the subway.

“So…” Henry played with Alex’s fingers as they hovered by the stairs, biting his lip. “Not to come on too strong, but my flight back to London isn’t until Monday. I don’t suppose you’d want to meet up again tomorrow?”

Alex felt his face split into a slow smile completely without his say so. “I could make that work.”

“Yeah?” Henry looked adorably hopeful. Alex’s heart lurched rather startlingly in his chest.

“Absolutely.”

—

Later that evening, one borough away, June Claremont-Diaz read a text from her brother and groaned before pulling out her wallet and begrudgingly handing fifty dollars to a cackling Nora. She’d been sure it would take at least two dates for Alex to actually come to terms with his sexuality once and for all and kiss his Highline crush. She supposed she should’ve expected it, though, she thought with a sigh. Alex had never been one to look back once he’d made a decision. When he was in, he was in. 

Which was to say that when, several months later (during which it had been nearly impossible to pry Alex away from his phone between classes and work as he texted incessantly with his overseas “he’s not my boyfriend, we’re just seeing where it goes, shut up you assholes”), neither June nor Nora was even remotely surprised by Alex’s giddy announcement that Henry had accepted a postdoc position at Columbia and was moving to New York. They were, however, delighted for both of them.