Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The wedding, as expected, was beautiful. Nora envisioned this perfect wedding day, wanting nothing but the best while Pez’s sole wish was to see her happy. And happy she was, radiating joy in front of all her loved ones. She was a vision in her mermaid-cut dress, which flowed elegantly, accentuating her figure as she moved gracefully toward Pez. As the celebrations continued, Alex stood next to June in the reception line, squeezed between family and groomsmen, feeling both pride in his sister’s joy and a tinge of nervousness.

Next to him, June looked stunning in a three-quarter-length ice blue gown, her beauty heightening Alex’s pride amidst his unease. Alex thought he looked pretty good himself, all things considered.  His pocket square matched with the bridesmaids and they'd all managed to keep cool during the ceremony. Not so much for the photoshoot afterward, which left Alex feeling humiliated, wanting to disappear as laughter and playful chaos engulfed him. The photographer was determined to capture action shots and damned if she wasn't going to get them, no matter how reluctant certain parties showed themselves to be. Alex enjoyed the playful chaos of the bridesmaids and groomsmen, though he felt a bit out of place in his suit among the flowing dresses..

He didn't mind when she had one of the groomsmen playfully tackle him. He did mind when the tackle turned into a sharp blow to his solar plexus, knocking the breath right out of him.

He minded even more when, as he gasped like a fish in the grass, he saw a mop of blond hair and concerned blue eyes hovering over him.

“Sorry about that,” said a silky smooth voice, grinning as he leaned over Alex.

“Forgot this was a wedding, not rugby with the lads for a moment!”

Alex wheezed and waved him away, rolled to his side, and coughed. As the chaos settled down, the session finally turned to newlywed pictures.

As he brushed off his pants, Alex couldn’t shake the feeling that he might have blades of grass still caught in his hair. He tried to get June to check him out, as any good sister would, only to find her doubled over with laughter, playfully pointing at him. She was still snorting periodically as they greeted guest after guest, drawing amused looks. Alex had never seen so many guests at a wedding; Pez's deep involvement and generous reputation in the charity world drew them all in.

Back sore, Alex sought a more comfortable position amid the bustling celebration. Maybe Stacy would humour him with a back rub after all this. Alex spotted him chatting away at the bar. He tried to grab his attention, but wasn't successful if his quickly turned back was any indication.

Alex looked down the line impatiently and was greeted by a raised blond eyebrow and the damn mocking blue eyes of Henry Fox. There was simply no escaping him; Henry seemed to follow their outings like an unwelcome shadow ever since Nora and Pez began dating, something Alex still had trouble accepting. Not that he wasn’t serious—oh no, the man was incredibly serious about business—but Alex couldn’t stand Henry's playboy lifestyle.

Though not a prude, Alex was frustrated by Henry’s flippant hops from one flirtation to another, relentlessly flaunting paid companions for every non-occasion. Alex had no desire to spend more time than he had to with a rich white playboy who had no idea how real people lived.

At dinner, the newlyweds had reserved the front table for family only, keeping the bridal parties grouped to one side. As the first course was served, Alex excused himself, needing a moment to breathe and find his boyfriend. He had hoped for Stacy to at least go through the greeting line, but he hadn't and Alex needed a commiserating ear if he needed anything right now. When he finally found Stacy, he spotted him laughing with a group of finance bros he’d met through Pez's charity events.

“Hi!” Alex greeted them cheerfully as he approached. He kept a respectful distance, knowing Stacy wasn’t keen on public displays of affection.

“Does Fox have it in for you, or what?” One of them said and they all laughed.

"Alex, I can’t believe you let him take you down like that!" Stacy teased.

“Let?” Alex's eyes widened, but he managed to keep his composure in front of his friends.

Stacy leaned back and tssked. “You've got grass in your heels.” 

“Thank you, Stacy.” There would be no sympathetic ear to be had here, Alex quickly realised. Best to beat a hasty retreat while they were all only mildly buzzed. “I'll catch you later, okay?”

“Sure, babe."

Gritting his teeth at the familiarity of the pet name, Alex turned away, detouring toward the men’s washroom. One clump of dirt and four blades of grass later, his shoes looked good as new after a quick wipe-down. 

Alex returned to the table and downed half the glass of wine set before him. A few of the others seated at the table gave him funny looks, but he was ready to move on from the whole thing.

"I’m really sorry about earlier," Henry leaned in from two seats down, concern shadowing his features..

“It's fine,” Alex said and shook his head. 

“Really though, I didn't mean to."

“Oh, great! That totally makes it better!” Alex replied dryly.

“I suppose not,” Henry said, looking somber. 

“Don't worry about it, okay?” 

“If you say so.”

“I do."

People chatted around them, the lively sound of the DJ's music filling the air.

“Where's your date?” Alex asked, looking around. He didn't think he'd ever seen Henry without someone hanging on his arm.

“Keeping himself busy, I'm sure,” Henry said, lackadaisical. 

Alex glanced over at the bar, eyeing Stacy who was nodding along with the music and laughing at something one of the guys said. 

“Yeah, I'm sure.”

“I see Eustace has wandered off again.”

“You know he hates that you call him that.”

Henry grinned, shrugged, and sipped at his wine. 

Alex resolutely turned his back to the bar, determined to enjoy the rest of the night, no matter how bitchy his table mate was. The rest of the evening was fairly uneventful, as far as weddings went, filled with heartfelt speeches from the wedding party, punctuated by lavish courses.

Alex was surprised at the depth of feeling in Henry's speech. He had no idea the man was capable of showing care for another person, much less in a complex and touching way.  

Pez looked genuinely touched while Nora (and most of the guests) looked on in disbelief. Alex wouldn't put it past him to have hired a speech writer.

When it came to his turn, Alex poured his heart out about how profoundly important Nora’s presence was in his life, emphasizing her unwavering support. Having Nora by his side for over a decade, Alex understood that while marriage wouldn’t fundamentally alter their bond, it would undoubtedly shift their dynamic. As he spoke, an unsettling knot twisted in his stomach, his joy contrasting sharply with the fear of losing Nora. Though Alex felt content with his fulfilling life — supportive friends, an exciting internship, and a solid relationship — he could not shake the underlying fear that Nora's move to the Hamptons would change everything. Having Nora move out to the Hamptons would be a significant change, but they'd adapt. Phones existed for a reason, and Alex believed the strong bond they shared would see them through this change.

The air pulsated with an eclectic mix of early 00's hits layered with wedding reception classics, creating an auditory tapestry that mirrored the evening's chaotic joy. Nora and Pez’s idea of compromise, no doubt.

Alex wandered off in search of Stacy and found him once again engrossed in conversation at the bar.r. The hangers-on seemed to have multiplied and Stacy was ruddy with attention and drink. Alex looked up at him as he got to his side, assessing. Drunk Stacy was not always the kind of person Alex wanted to be around. 

“Alex! We were just talking about you!”

“Oh, were you?” Considering what Stacy’s buddies were not shy of saying about him when he was within earshot, he didn’t particularly want to know what they would say when he wasn’t there. 

“Jeff said you haven’t called him about that junior trade position.”

“I have a job, Stacy.”

“Come on, you call that internship a job? It’s at a library.” 

The derisive tone made Alex’s hackles rise, even more so when the whole lot of them started laughing. 

“You know how important that internship is to me.” Alex tried for an even tone and did his best to ignore the onlookers. 

“Yeah, yeah, you and your precious books. You need to grow up, Alex. That’s not a real career.”

“Working for the fourth largest library in the world isn’t a real career?” 

“Come on, man.” Alex hated it when Stacy called him “man”. “You gonna be mooching off me forever?”

“I –” They’d agreed when Alex’s internship began that it was a temporary situation. Stacy said he kind of liked the idea of taking care of Alex, and Alex did his best to do more than his fair share around the house. “Can we not do this here?” It came out kind of strangled.

“Why?” Stacy said and stumbled. “So you can come up with excuses for not taking the opportunities I’m bringing your way? I’m trying to help you. You need to grow up and realise books aren’t what makes the world go round.”

“You’re drunk.” Stacy had a way of saying things that cut deep, but he’d never openly done it in public. 

“Have a drink!” Stacy said and gulped his beer. “I told Jeff you just needed some convincing, didn’t I, Jeff?”

Someone laughed loudly behind Alex, presumably Jeff. 

“No thanks, I’m good."

"You know what your problem is, Alex? You have no ambition; you’re living small in a world that needs you to dream big!"

“Is that what my problem is?” Alex fumed. Being humiliated again was not meant to be in the cards tonight. 

“Why are you so ungrateful?”

“Ungrateful? Me not wanting to live my life like you want me to is ungrateful?”

“Plenty of other people would kill to be in the position you are, you know,” Stacy leered, and a brunette leaned into his space – the same one who’d been on Henry’s arm earlier that evening.

“I see.”

"I’m gonna make this easy for you; either you accept Jeff’s generous offer or go find someone else to mooch off of," Stacy said, the mixture of drunken bravado and insecurity evident in his gaze. Almost a year into cohabitation for this?

“What’s it gonna be, man?” 

The brunette rubbed Stacy’s shoulder, and Alex found his footing.

“I think we’re done here.”

“Your loss,” Stacy laughed, and all the hanger-ons followed. “Good luck finding some other sucker.”

Alex turned on his heel and pushed through the crowd of people who’d no doubt seen and heard everything. In his hurry to get out of the hall, Alex almost barreled over none other than Henry Fox and Alex let out a frustrated noise. 

He dashed through the crowd and headed for the bride's dressing area, only to be confronted with a locked door. Sighing, he backed into the small alcove and, breathing hard, started typing furiously to June.

“Rough night?” Henry asked, catching Alex off guard. 

Alex almost dropped his phone, but recovered. He couldn't help but make a face when he saw who was asking. 

“Not that it matters to you, but yes.”

“Drink?”

Alex eyed it suspiciously. “I don't take drinks I haven't seen poured myself.”

“Fair enough.” Henry took a sip and raised an eyebrow, but didn't say anything more about it. 

Alex cleared his throat and fixed his clothes, clearly uncomfortable and still upset.

“Wanna talk about it?”

“Oh sure, like you wanna hear about how I broke up with my boyfriend at a wedding, of all places, knowing I have nowhere else to go in the city.”

Henry shrugged. “Nothing else going on.” 

As if the man wasn't at his best friend's wedding reception.

“Found your date, by the way. Draped over Stacy.”

“Ah. Is that why…?”

“It didn't help, but no. Apparently, Stacy and his buddies think my life choices are a big joke, and I should go into finance with his bros.”

“I see.” Henry swirled the ice in his drink. “I didn't think you had any interest in day trading.”

“I don't. It looks like the internship I worked for years to get isn't ‘grown up’ enough for him.”

“NYC public library internships aren't easy to come by.”

Alex squinted suspiciously at Henry. “How did you know that?” 

Henry shrugged. “Not important.”

Frustrated, Alex wiped his face when suddenly Henry blurted out: “You can stay with me.”

The shock of it cut Alex's breath short.

“What?!”

“You can stay with me.”

“I heard you the first time! Are you insane?”

“Look, it’s probably not your ideal solution, but hear me out.”

Alex looked on doubtfully but gestured for Henry to go on. 

“My mother, in her infinite wisdom, has let me know that unless I settle down with someone, I won’t ever see COO for Pulsar.”

“Ha! Has she met you?”

“So you see, this would be perfect. You get a place to live, I get ‘engaged’ and get her off my back.”

“You are insane,” Alex sputtered and protested and backed away as much as the alcove permitted.

Henry's gaze raked over Alex, assessing every detail with an intensity that made the air between them thick with unspoken judgment. He nodded slowly, a sardonic smile playing on his lips as he declared, "You'll do."

Chapter Text

Alex refused to tell Nora about the breakup – what bride would want to know someone broke up at her wedding? Besides, he wasn't going to be the person to interrupt a honeymoon with his petty issues. So he didn’t have anywhere else to go, so what? That was a non-issue now, anyway. 

The end of the night had been a comedy of errors. After letting himself be convinced by Henry – his plan might sound like something out of a movie, but his arguments made sense – Alex spent the rest of the evening dodging Stacy. He'd probably gone to the men's room five times. 

Avoiding Stacy also meant remaining at the table most of the time. Oh, he'd danced with Nora and June, of course, tipsy enough on table wine to enjoy himself and forget about what was happening next for a minute. 

Of course, the moment he sat back down, he found Henry also sitting there, looking plenty entertained on his own. Alex let himself wonder what it would be like to sit at his side. Would he ask him to look pretty and be quiet? That seemed to be the case with most of his dates. 

If he did, Henry was in for a rude awakening. Alex could be charming when he needed to, but he was never one to keep his mouth shut. He had tried broaching the subject, but had been brushed off with a “We can talk more tomorrow.” 

Alex spent the night at the hotel after the reception and headed straight to Stacy's the next morning. Alex sent a quick text message advising him he would be out of his hair later that evening. Stacy responded with a passive-aggressive thumbs up, and Alex rolled his eyes at his phone before heading in to pack. 

He expected to feel a few pangs at least. Shouldn't a year-long relationship call for a broken heart, even when you were the one to call it off?

He tried to summon some kind of sadness about the whole situation, but Stacy was far from the front of his mind. Not that he didn't care. It was just that once he'd gotten confirmation that Stacy had no respect for his achievements or his career, it was like the tether holding onto his feelings simply snapped. 

He'd been plenty mad last night, and would probably be again, but for now, he felt sort of pleasantly numb about the whole thing. 

Now moving in with Henry? That, he felt plenty of things about, mainly the tight band around his chest and the pounding in his head. The pounding was probably attributable to last night as a whole, but his chest? Oh, Alex knew that feeling well. Anxiety had been a loyal companion of Alex's for as long as he could remember. 

Logic wouldn't help. He couldn't even blame his body for reacting the way it did to the whole situation. Moving in with Henry Fox was a stupid idea. More than the rudeness and the playboy tendencies, it was that Alex always felt judged when he was in the room. Henry would stare and offer bitchy comments – mostly about Stacy, now that Alex thought about it – and he'd have this calculating look in his eye. 

Alex knew he stood out among Nora's friends. He became known as “The guy with the internship” from the moment it began. Well, not everybody had an in with mommy's company, now did they? 

No, his parents were far away in Texas, living their suburban oasis life. They were happy their kids had found happiness in New York, even if it meant rarely ever seeing them. Oh god. Alex would need to call his mother. She'd be so upset if Alex told her he'd broken up with Stacy at a wedding, for Pete's sake . 

He just had to say he'd found a new roommate and he was fine. And he was. Just fine. And as soon as he could take a breath without wincing, he'd believe it. 

It was October and the streets of Brooklyn were slick with wet leaves. Henry had insisted on sending a car once he realised Alex would be moving by subway. He only had a few bags worth of things along with one box of books; Stacy had a fully equipped apartment when Alex moved in, and it had never felt like home enough to decorate it with his own things.  

The driver didn’t remark on Alex’s bedraggled appearance when he arrived, presumably used to much worse from Henry. He just picked everything up and placed it in the trunk. 

It was kind of nice to be warm and dry in the plush back seat. Soft instrumental music played, and Alex was soon lulled to sleep in the late-night traffic. 

The drive uptown seemed to take no time at all. When the car stopped and the driver's door slammed, Alex groggily made his way out on the sidewalk, where the driver was met with a real-life doorman. Alex never really saw one in his past year in New York. Even though he knew they existed, he'd never been this close to one. 

He was a bit slack-jawed as the doorman disappeared momentarily, only to come back with a luggage rack. It might as well be the Plaza, Alex thought as he walked in.

The driver tipped his hat to Alex and the doorman and drove away. 

“Sir?” 

“Yes, sorry,” Alex said. 

The doorman had handed off the rack to an attendant of some sort and was kindly nudging Alex towards the elevator. 

He followed the attendant, surprised to find the elevator had a charming wood-panelled interior rather than sleek modern mirrored walls. He appreciated the details and value of keeping what was probably very near to the original design of the lift. 

The mechanism, however, was clearly modern. The ride up was smooth and quick, and before he knew it, they were disembarking at the penthouse’s private entrance. 

The lights were dimmed; what kind of person sent a car to bring someone to their home but wasn't there when they arrived? The attendant unloaded Alex's belongings from the luggage cart and Alex fished a bill from his wallet to tip him. 

“Good night, sir,” the attendant said and made a swift exit.

Alex took in the large sitting room, nicely decorated, in a sterile minimalist kind of way. He ignored the hard-looking settee in favour of walking to the floor-to-ceiling window and taking in the view. The sky wasn't much to look at, what with the rain, but the city lights below were mesmerising. 

Alex didn't know how long he had stood there watching. If he'd been less distracted, he might have heard Henry approach. As it was, he jumped about a foot in the air when he quietly said “Hello, Alex,” from a respectable six feet away. 

“Shit! Warn a guy,” Alex exclaimed, hand to his heart.

Henry chuckled. “You'd think one would expect the host to greet his guest.” 

“Well, I did, but you weren't here.” 

Henry’s blond hair fell forward as he rocked on his heels, seemingly amused. He flicked it back with a shake of his head, and his blue eyes sparkled in the low light. 

“Fuck me,” Alex swore under his breath. He was sure he looked like a drowned cat. His jacket was less than waterproof, and he could feel his hair dripping down his neck. He looked back to see the puddle trail he'd left on the floor when he walked to the window.  

“Rough night?"

"You need to stop asking me that," Alex groaned. 

Henry smirked and shrugged. “I'll show you where you can hang your coat. And then maybe, a towel?”

“Yes, thanks.:

Just as Alex hung his coat and removed his wet shoes, Henry returned with a fluffy grey towel. It smelled freshly laundered, and Alex buried his face deep into it before starting in on his hair. 

By the time he looked up again, Henry had fled to the kitchen set right off the sitting room. The entire area was one large open room, arbitrarily divided by furniture and a marble countertop island. 

“Drink? You can come watch me pour it.”

Alex looked to Henry, expecting at least a mocking smile, but he saw nothing but a polite, neutral expression. Stacy always made fun of him for being paranoid, but Alex refused to budge on it. It was refreshing to not be questioned about a rule he'd set for himself. Even more so since he hadn't been the one to bring it up. 

“Yeah, okay.”

Henry gestured to the bar behind him and raised an eyebrow in question. Alex shrugged; he wasn't particularly picky, and though the towel helped, he could feel the damp seeping into his clothes. A drink would warm him right up. 

He watched Henry dash bitters into a glass and add a clear liquid from a squirt bottle – simple syrup, he assured Alex as he stirred – then took a dark brown bottle of whisky off the shelf and added a few fingers' worth. He went to the fridge, came back with a jar of maraschino cherries, and dropped one in the thick-bottomed glass. 

“One old fashioned,” Henry smirked and pushed the glass towards Alex. 

“Thank you.” He sipped and made appreciative noises while nodding his head. “That's good.”

“Glad you like it. Enjoying the view?" Henry asked.

“It's really something,” Alex replied. 

“You seemed to be enjoying it quite a bit, earlier.”

“Don't think I've ever been this high up before.” The obligatory Empire State Building tour didn't count as far as Alex was concerned. He walked over to the window, captivated by the breathtaking view. He couldn’t help but stare, despite not wanting to look too provincial.

Henry joined him, and Alex looked over after a moment – Henry looked quickly away, but Alex caught him staring. He had been smiling, was smiling still, even as he looked down at the streetlights. Was it because of the towel around Alex's neck or his probably ridiculous looking hair? 

Still, it was nice to see the usually stoic man smile, Alex caught himself thinking. 

“Nice digs,” Alex said to break the silence after a few minutes. Nice digs? Ugh. What was happening to him?

 “It's a place to sleep.”

“So’s a studio apartment in Hell's Kitchen, but here we are.”

Henry laughed, then. A full-throated guffaw that had Alex smiling along. 

“You've certainly got me there. Would you like a tour?”

Alex nodded and swished the ice in his glass. He cleared his throat and finished his drink. 

“Lead on.”

Henry gave a little salute and took Alex's glass from his hands. As they went through the kitchen, he dropped both glasses on the island. 

“The kitchen,” he gestured vaguely. “It's really more for show. I'm not here often enough to cook. Feel free to purchase anything you think you might need.” 

Alex wasn't much of a cook himself, unless you counted his mother's enchiladas recipe. Still, he nodded and followed Henry down the hall. 

“The penthouse has two bedrooms on opposing sides. Both have an en suite.”

He opened doors as he spoke, and Alex caught a glimpse of a sparsely furnished bedroom. 

Henry turned them around and went back through the kitchen. The living room furniture was a nondescript grey and looked uncomfortable, but very modern. No television, but a large painting of an animal carcass over a gas fireplace. Not a bookcase to be found.

“And here's your room,” Henry continued as he walked, and Alex hurried to catch up. 

The room was what one would maybe call minimalistic if they were inclined to be kind. With beige walls and slightly darker beige bedding, Alex hoped Henry hadn't made the decorating decisions. 

He looked around, peeking into the en suite. Smooth charcoal-coloured tiles gave the walk-in shower a cave-like vibe that Alex didn't hate. He was much more impressed by the deep claw foot bath next to it. 

He came out of the bathroom and took in the bare walls along with the immense windows. He made a silent wish they didn't face east or if they did, that there were some good quality blackout blinds built in somehow. 

“It's not much,” Henry said, sounding apologetic. 

“It's a place to sleep,” Alex replied and winked. Oh god. Henry was just being nice, yet Alex felt a flicker of something deeper stirring within him. He would not be the guy who flirted with his roommate. 

Except he'd have to, wouldn't he? This whole roommate with benefits thing had to be the weirdest situation Alex had ever found himself in, and he'd been around Nora and his sister for the past decade, getting into plenty of weird situations. 

“We can get whatever you need – a bookcase or something.”

“How did you know?” 

“You scowled at the walls. Also, what kind of librarian would you be if you didn't have any books?”

Alex chuckled ruefully. “A piss poor one, I suppose.” The contents of the book box that had moved with him probably wouldn't use up more than a few shelves, but they were well-loved copies of the few books he still owned. 

He'd had a lot more before moving in with Stacy, but he didn't like changing things in his apartment, and besides, “ you work at a library, babe. Just check them out.” So Alex had sold most of his collection. 

Well. His ebook collection followed him everywhere, at least. 

The thought of having his precious tomes in his room on display had him blinking away unexpected moisture in his eyes. 

“I'll, uh, let you get settled in, won't I?” Henry said in a gentle voice. Alex heard the door click behind him and he wiped at his eyes. 

The last 24 hours had been a whirlwind. He was running on very little sleep and too much coffee and the place was nice, was all. It wasn't because Henry Fox wanted to play house all of a sudden that Alex would fall for his playboy ways. What was he, born yesterday? No, this whole mess was just another episode in Alex's chaotic life. This was what he did. He flirted inappropriately with people he knew better than to do that with and then had a bit of a breakdown about his life -- just a typical Sunday.

He sank onto the bed, tears brimming in his eyes, the heaviness of his thoughts pressing down on him. This was ridiculous. As he made to get up, his eye caught the gleam of the tub in the open en suite. With a newfound sense of purpose, he flung the towel aside and quickly gathered his bags, heading toward the bathroom. He needed to know if his whole body could get underwater in that tub.

Chapter Text

The sun wasn't up yet when Henry's alarm went off. He opened the drapes to the street lights fighting for dominance with the fading twilight. He got ready quickly and quietly; he didn't want to chance waking Alex. After the weekend he'd had, the last thing he needed was to have his sleep cut short because of Henry.

Alex had looked so upset when Henry left him in his room. He should have said something instead of leaving Alex alone the night before. However, Alex wasn't Henry's biggest fan to begin with, so it was probably smart to take a step back, at least for now.

Henry tugged at his tie as Richard sped his way to the financial district. It was windy and damp when Richard pulled up in front of Pulsar Enterprises. Henry flashed his badge at the security guard and tapped it at the gate that led to the elevators. He would stop on 5th first to get a quick coffee, then go up to the 12th floor where his office was.

On 5th, the lights were still off. He didn't bother going hunting for the switch, content to know he was alone. Using his phone as a flashlight, he headed straight for the staff kitchen and filled the coffee maker. It wasn't anything special, nothing like his machine at home, yet almost every morning he found himself passing by and sneaking a cup upstairs. 

There was a perfectly serviceable, fully stocked staff room on the 12th floor as well. It reflected the people who worked on that floor – shiny, cold, and hard, while rarely doing any work. He might have one of those fancy machines at home, but it didn't mean that he didn't appreciate his time with the Black and Decker.

He carefully filled his paper cup and popped on the lid before making his way back to the lift. On 12th, the lights were already on. Henry hurried to his office and hoped he wasn't seen. 

He wasn't hiding, exactly; he just needed to gather his thoughts after the whirlwind of a weekend he'd just had. 

It had been a gorgeous wedding, graced with unseasonably warm weather. The food was excellent, and the drinks flowed. His date was exactly as advertised, if flighty with a tendency to wander off. The point was that he hadn't come alone.

That photoshoot, though…Henry cringed and sipped at his coffee in hopes of getting rid of the sour taste in his mouth. 

He couldn't believe he'd bloody tackled Alex. Okay, so he'd mostly been following instructions, but still, he hadn't held back, and the poor man had bounced off the ground when he fell, breath knocked out of him. Henry was like a kid on the playground, trying to pull at pigtails and pushing kids into puddles instead. 

He didn't exactly know what came over him. Asking Alex to move in with him and be his pretend boyfriend? He knew if he mentioned this to Pez, he’d get an earful and a half. He was taking advantage of the man’s situation to get closer to him, and it would do nothing to convince Alex that his reasons were anything but self-serving. 

He shook his mouse to wake up his computer while he sipped the bitter brew. At least Richard would take care of Alex; he'd made sure with André, the doorman. 

A few dozen emails later, Henry stretched and was surprised to find the 12th floor was now filled with people hurrying from one office to another. No one had noticed him yet, and his first meeting wasn't for another half hour – plenty of time to lose himself in his overflowing inbox. 

Just as he was debating how exactly to corporate speak “let the adults talk” in a reply, his assistant Sophie knocked as she entered the office. 

“Mr. Fox would like to speak with you, sir. Shall I tell him you're unavailable?”

Henry sighed but replied, “Thank you, Sophie, but no. I have a little time.”

He gulped the dregs of his coffee before dropping the cup in the trash can. He'd rather not explain its presence to Philip. In fact, he'd rather not have to see Philip at all, but his brother did outrank him; a fact he took every occasion to remind Henry of. 

Philip was a slight man, as blond as his brother, though on the shorter side and with a face many would describe as fox-like, as opposed to Henry’s more classically handsome looks. It suited Philip’s personality to a T. He was always trying to wiggle his way into deals and, coincidentally, looked like he could weasel his way out of any situation. 

“Why are you always hiding out in your office?” Philip asked as he walked in.

“Not hiding, Philip, working. You should try it sometime.”

“You think this place runs itself? You have no idea what kind of work I do for the company while you slave away on your computer doing what any of these peons could.”

“I’m pretty sure HR frowns upon calling our employees ‘peons’.”

Philip let out an exasperated sound as he let himself fall into the chair across from Henry. 

“You need to get that promotion and make it to the 15th floor, Henry. You’re going soft down here.”

Henry didn’t think treating employees like humans with value was “going soft”, but if it was, he saw no issue with it. He didn’t understand how Philip’s moral code was so skewed. They’d sort of grown up together, if one counted summers abroad and separate boarding schools. Still, they both shared the same parents, and one would think that would count for most of it. However, it seemed that Philip’s values had warped somewhere along the way.

Henry merely shrugged and turned back to his emails. 

“What are you even doing here? I thought you were out of town at a wedding.”

“Pez’s, yes. It was hardly far enough to warrant more than 1 night away.”

“Ah, yes, Mr. Okonjo. Meet anyone?”

Henry knew that tone. The one that left the “useful” bit out of the sentence but made it heard clearly nonetheless. 

“Mainly members of the foundation . It was a wedding, not a mixer.”

Philip scoffed. “You wouldn’t know an occasion to network if it bit you in the arse.”

It wasn’t worth arguing with Philip, so Henry simply didn’t. Even if he did, his brother would go on thinking what he liked.

“What about the company?”

“What about it?”

“Oh, come now. You’re telling me you showed up to that wedding without someone on your arm?”

“Oh. Yes, I did.” No need to clarify that he’d left on his own after thanking his companion of the evening for his time and reassuring him that his fee would be paid to the agency, even though his part of the contract had not been upheld.

“No need to ask about the rest of the weekend, then is there?!” Philip laughed uproariously at his own joke. 

Henry gave a pinched smile in Philip's direction. “Definitely not.” Caught between obligation and desire, Henry decided the whole Alex situation could wait for now. Philip had an uncanny ability to poke and prod, wielding his relentless curiosity like a sword, and Henry had no desire to engage in that duel. 

With a firm yet gentle knock, Sophie entered, her presence a welcome interruption to the brewing tension. 

“Your 9 o’clock, sir.”

"Thank you, Sophie," said Henry, and looked pointedly at his brother. "I'll see you later, Philip," Henry said, forcing himself to turn away despite the gnawing worry in his gut.

He huffed and barely avoided Sophie on the way out, but took the hint. She nodded at Henry before closing the door behind her.

She was an invaluable support when it came to his family. Either his mother or his brother came down often enough for them to have a shorthand when it came to unwanted visits. Despite the distractions swirling around him, his commitment to his work remained unwavering. 

Morning meetings came and went. Through it all, Henry's mind buzzed with anxiety. How could he possibly present his new sort-of roommate situation without it sounding like he was taking advantage of Alex?

He needed to discuss this whole arrangement with Alex. Make it clear for everyone involved what was expected before Henry lost his mind worrying about how he was going to pull off the plan. 

Oh God, he'd need to explain about the photogs—the very thought sent a chill down his spine. It was bad enough that they appeared out of nowhere, but now he had to convince Alex that the looming threat wasn't such a big deal.

Henry despised paparazzi; they were a thankfully dying breed. However, those that remained seemed rabid for any exclusive content now that everyone and their dog could livestream at a moment's notice. 

He took a slow breath in, the cool air filling his lungs, and concentrated on keeping it steady amidst the whir of thoughts, before finally letting it out slowly. It wouldn’t do to panic about it just yet. Who even knew if Alex would stay longer than a few days? The thought of him leaving so soon made Henry's stomach twist uneasily. 

With Henry's luck, Alex would realize the deal he made was a bad one, and the house of cards Henry was trying to build would come crashing down around him. 

Six months was all he needed to turn this risky arrangement into something manageable, to explore the possibility of something more with Alex. That was all he needed. After that, Alex could do as he liked. Move out, move on. Find another Stacy. Henry hoped that Alex would make better choices than a self-absorbed financier again. 

Yes, sharing his space for these six months was hardly an undue hardship, now was it?

Chapter Text

Henry wasn't kidding when he said he put in long hours. He was gone by the time Alex woke up with nary a sign he'd even bothered having breakfast beforehand. 

Alex attempted to decipher the expensive Italian coffee maker on the kitchen counter, hoping to make a much-needed caffeine fix, but even Googling was no help for it. He'd have to grab something on the way.

He was ready later than he'd wanted to be; the bed was plush and inviting, a stark contrast to his usual rush, making it hard to leave. On top of all that, he had no idea where the closest subway station might be. 

He slipped on his shoes, grabbed his satchel, and opened Google Maps. Engrossed in his research, he almost walked into the doorman as he exited the elevator. 

The doorman's face remained a stoic mask, yet something in his eyes hinted at amusement as Alex stumbled over his apologies. “Mr. Fox has advised us you'll be staying in the penthouse.”

“I – yes?”

“We're glad to have you, sir.”

Distracted, Alex replied, "Sure. Can you point me to the nearest subway?”

“The subway, sir? Richard is waiting for you outside.”

“Who's Richard?”

“Your driver, sir.”

“Oh no no no, that's Henry's driver, I'm not –”

“Mr. Fox said you'd object, but he asked me to tell you that Richard would most likely find offense in refusing his services.”

“Offense?” His head spun. What was Henry playing at, offering his driver? A whirlwind of confusion enveloped him as the doorman nudged him forward, and Alex felt a pang of reluctance stepping into the sleek vehicle waiting ominously at the curb. The same man who'd picked him up the night before offered a kind smile, encouraging him to make his way inside. Alex looked back in dismay, but the doorman only waved. 

"What the hell just happened?" The words escaped him, breathy and bewildered, as he stumbled forward like an actor caught in the wrong scene.

Alex jumped as the driver-side door shut. 

"The Schwarzman building, sir?" Richard asked as he glanced back.

Alex just stared open-mouthed.

“Sir?” The driver turned around in concern. 

“Yes,” Alex croaked eventually. 

Richard turned back with a nod and pulled out into traffic. 

He muttered, "What the hell?" the entire way to 5th Avenue.

The New York City Public Library, a monumental structure of stunning Beaux-Arts architecture, stood majestically at the edge of Bryant Park, contrasting sharply with Alex’s chaotic morning. He felt dwarfed by its grandeur, a stark reminder of how lost he felt. Its grand entrance, marked by two towering lion statues, beckoned visitors with an air of timeless elegance and knowledge. Inside, expansive marble halls echoed with the whispers of countless readers, while golden chandeliers cast a warm glow over polished wood and leather furnishings, inviting patrons to linger in its warm embrace of coffee and musty adventures. Rows upon rows of towering bookshelves stretched toward the high ceilings, showcasing a staggering collection of bound stories waiting to be explored. Sunlight streamed through the immense arched windows, illuminating reading nooks where students and scholars alike sought solace amidst the hustle and bustle of the city outside.

The employee-only area boasted a well-stocked coffee bar, with rich aromas of fresh brews and a variety of pastry delights ready to tempt any tired librarian. Alex savoured the cup he’d just made for himself, pleased to have the time to enjoy it before diving into the day's tasks. 

He hadn't gotten anywhere near the point of going on the hunt for beans in the cupboards yet he somehow knew without a doubt that, had he managed to find any, they would have been some fancy imported brand he'd never heard of. 

He sipped his coffee and tried to clear the fuzz from his head. The entire morning felt surreal; the bizarre encounter with the driver lingered in his mind. Not that he missed Stacy's messy morning habits, but the silence of the penthouse had echoed through him as he watched the early morning traffic below. 

He'd even popped in his earbuds when it became too much. Henry had to have a smart speaker somewhere in his designer getaway. Alex would have to add it to the list. 

So far, it included:

• Ask for instructions for the coffee machine 
• Did the building have a laundry room?
• Exactly what did he have in his kitchen besides liquor? 
• Was he expected to cook for Henry? Alex was far from the housewife type.
• How much was the rent? (Alex cringed. He'd never be able to afford half of that place). 
• What was that all about with the driver?

And also, 

• Was he serious about this whole arrangement?
• Would Henry expect to kiss Alex? 

Okay, so with so much uncertainty about Henry's expectations, he knew he'd have to work a bit on his priorities. 

Alex was aimlessly doodling in his notebook when his alarm rang, a reminder that the library would soon open to the public. He upended his coffee mug to get every last drop, then made his way to the Motherwell exhibit. 

As usual, he was bounced around and assisted four of his colleagues before lunch. He knew they saw him as a gofer more or less, and he was mostly fine with that. After all, it was made very clear to him during his internship interviews. 

Soon enough, lunchtime came around, and he made his way back to the staff room. He sat out of the way, by the window. The sun shone on his too-long curly brown hair. He'd meant to get it trimmed before the wedding but hadn't managed to snag an appointment. Now his hair fell over his face, caught by the rim of his tortoiseshell glasses. He brushed it back, but as soon as he looked back down at his book, there it was again. 

Giving up, he settled on brushing it back every few minutes while he read through his lunch break, being very careful to keep the food at a good distance from the book. 

There were few things in life that Alex took time to care properly about. His parents were one of them, June and Nora another. But near and dear to his heart? Books. And not just any books, but library books. There was something about knowing a book had gone through many hands before and would again that just tickled him, reminding him of his own journey through those same stories. The wonders of a shared experience were what had drawn him to librarianship in the first place. 

He had been lucky, he supposed, with his Austin suburb library. The librarians there saw him devour all sorts of books and helped him navigate the gap between middle grade and young adult books by directing him to the non-fiction section. Though he preferred spending his time with fictional characters and their fantastic adventures, he'd found an appreciation for research that wasn’t lost on the library staff. 

When college application time came around, nothing had seemed particularly interesting until it was pointed out to him that librarianship studies were an option. 

It had been as if a whole new future had opened up for Alex. He could continue doing what he loved and, hopefully, eventually get paid for it. 

Chapter Text

Alex wasn't proud to say he'd looked around in the hope of seeing Richard and his black car when he left work. Only one day in, and he was already acting spoiled. So it was windy, so what? He'd lived in the city for years and never had a car, much less a driver, to get him around. 

Google Maps gave him easy enough directions, which he'd follow as soon as he'd done a small detour. 

His stomach was grumbling, and he had no idea what Henry had in his kitchen. Unwilling to find out the hard way, he detoured two blocks down 5th Avenue to a literal hole-in-the-wall taco place he absolutely adored. 

They spoke not one word of English, which was just fine with Alex. He doubled his usual order, hoping Henry fancied tacos. With the stocked bar he'd seen yesterday, Alex was sure he could whip up a few margaritas if the mood struck. 

The subway noisily rolled along, and Alex saw a few passengers sniff appreciatively in the direction of the bag on his lap. His stomach growled and twisted in alternation. 

What if Henry hated tacos? Ugh, what was wrong with him? Henry could get his own damn food if he didn’t like his. 

Alex's stomach twisted again, harder this time. Fine. Not as if he wasn't planning on sharing to begin with, he sternly thought in the direction of his abdomen. 

The real issue, as usual, was that Alex had no idea where he stood. And tacos were always a good way to clear up some things. 

The subway slowed and stopped at 86th and Lexington. Before he knew it, Alex was propelling himself up the stairs and out onto the street. He had to get his phone out, but he managed to find his way quickly enough.  

Every building looked similar from the outside, and he was concentrating on addresses when he was hailed.

“Mr. Diaz!”

It was the doorman from this morning. Briefly, Alex wondered just how long his shift could possibly be, before gratefully entering the building.

“Good evening, Mr. Diaz,” the doorman said as he stepped aside. 

“Thank you,” Alex replied as he nodded. He headed to the elevator, waving away the eager attendant who had waited on him the night before. 

“It's like a hotel,” he muttered once he was alone. The lift rose quickly and Alex shifted foot to foot. A multitude of Alexs reflected his way, every one of them looking antsy. 

Alex determinedly cleared his throat and cradled his tacos close. He promised himself he'd enjoy them no matter what.

The penthouse was as dark as it had been the night before. The city lights shone enough through the open window to guide him first to the kitchen island and then to the closet to hang his coat and scarf. 

Using the flashlight on his phone, he scanned the walls for a light switch. He found it after a few moments, near Henry's bedroom door. For someone as flighty as Henry, he sure liked understated decor. Then again, if you could afford a penthouse in New York, you most likely had someone else do the decorating. It just so happened that Henry's decorator was a fan of the minimalist lifestyle.

Alex took the time to really look at the penthouse. It was bigger than he thought, with plenty of space between the kitchen and living room area. He went through the cupboards in the hope of finding a pantry, but all he found was a myriad of glasses in all shapes and sizes, along with elegant but simple plates and bowls. He did find a few staples, such as salt and pepper, as well as sugar, and what was probably vanilla. 

The fridge and freezer were just as poorly stocked. Nothing but soda water, lemons, and limes to be found in the fridge, alongside a lonely jar of maraschino cherries. The freezer housed a few vodka bottles along with an impressive variety of Cornettos. Henry must have a sweet tooth. 

Though it was dark, the sky was clear, and he got to take in the view of the cityscape. This view was what people who had never been to New York City would consider New York City – a panorama fit for a movie screen. Alex would like to think himself above such a thing, but the truth was that he was impressed. He didn’t want to be, hadn’t thought his life in Brooklyn had been missing anything. 

He had also thought Stacy was a good boyfriend, so what did he know? Clearly, Alex was not the best at reading people. Maybe he’d just wanted it too much. Stacy always presented his opinions to Alex in a way that made Alex think he was being cautious. 

Thinking about the dozen books he had remaining in the bedroom left Alex with a bad taste in his mouth. He’d convinced himself Stacy was right and that he didn’t need so many physical copies of books when he could easily borrow them or buy the infinitely more portable ebook versions, but the truth was he missed having them and seeing them up on a shelf, ready to peruse or to look at. 

He was starting to think he’d cut down a lot of things simply because Stacy had managed to convince him that it was “easier” for everyone (really, easier for Stacy). Would this arrangement with Henry end up just being a different flavour of that? So far, Henry had done nothing but offer things Alex hadn’t asked for. 

He sat in the corner seat of the breakfast nook and dug into his tacos, deciding to forego the margaritas. Drinking on his own on a Monday just seemed a level of sad that Alex refused to stoop to. He sipped at his soda water instead and scrolled on his phone. 

Most of his friends had posted pictures of the reception; thankfully, none of the photographer’s pictures had been posted. Alex wasn’t up to seeing himself be tackled by Henry quite yet. Okay, he would probably never be, but he’d rather see those than pictures of Stacy’s smug face any day. 

While he was busy eating and blocking Stacy on social media, he heard the burr of the elevator mechanism a moment before the doors opened to reveal a harried-looking Henry. 

Alex sat stunned with a taco halfway to his mouth while Henry stared. He nodded stiffly and made his way to the coat closet. 

Alex had never noticed how broad-shouldered Henry was before – must be from all his years of “rugby with the lads”. Did someone who lived in a penthouse uptown play rugby? Now golf, that he might believe. 

Henry turned and made his way to the kitchen, grabbing a soda water for himself. 

“Hello, Alex,” he said as he reached the table. 

Alex swallowed the mouthful of taco he’d forgotten about and gestured towards the chair in front of him. “Hi. Taco?”

“I wouldn’t want to impose. I can order something later.”

“Don’t be silly. I bought plenty for both of us.” 

“You did?" For some reason, Henry looked more surprised than Alex had expected.

“Didn’t know what your fancy kitchen had, so I stopped by my favourite spot.”

“Ah, well, that was for the best,” Henry said as he sat. 

Still, he didn’t reach for the bag, so Alex took it upon himself to serve him. He even pushed the container of salsa verde his way, his eyebrow arching in playful challenge, as if daring Henry. He looked taken aback by the whole thing as if he’d never been served food before. He was far from his usual composed and stiff-looking self. 

“Why is there nothing but vodka and Cornettos in your freezer?"

Henry coughed, nearly choking on his first bite of taco.

“Sorry,” Alex said. “It’s just, that’s a lot of ice cream.”

“I suppose it is,” Henry said as he caught his breath. He took another bite, savouring it. He clearly enjoyed it, making appreciative noises and drizzling his taco with salsa verde before taking another bite. 

Alex felt warm all over as he watched Henry enjoy the food. Stacy didn’t enjoy anything remotely spicy, and Alex had always found himself eating on his own before heading home if he was in the mood for Mexican. Everyone had their tastes, but with Stacy, it was best to keep certain foods out of the house. 

Alex had a smile on his face the entire time they ate their meal. It wasn't fancy – they didn't even bother using plates – but to Alex, it was flavourful and filling, the perfect comfort food after the last few days. 

“Speaking of Cornettos…” Henry fastidiously picked up the remains of their meal and disposed of it. 

“Chocolate or vanilla?” He asked as he opened the freezer.

Henry carefully handed over the vanilla cone when Alex reached for it, their fingers brushing briefly, sending a jolt of unexpected electricity through Alex. “Would have pegged you for a chocolate man.”

“Would you?”

“Sure. Vanilla is kind of boring, don't you think?”

Alex shook his head. “Vanilla is one of the most complex flavours when you get it right. Besides, if it's so boring, why have it?”

Henry just winked, and a smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. 

They ate in silence for a few moments until Alex couldn't hold it anymore.

“How much is the rent on this place? Because I was thinking and –”

“Rent? There's no rent.”

“What do you mean, there’s no rent?”

“I mean, I own the penthouse, so no, there's no rent.”

“Oh. Well, I'm sure there are building fees and whatever, so you can tell me how much those are and I'll work something out.”

“Absolutely not. Why would I do that?*

“I can't stay here for free.”

“Why not? I asked you to, didn't I?”

“Yeah, but –”

*I'm not taking your money, Alex.” 

“But, I –”

“What we can do is have a chat about expectations.”

Alex shifted in his seat but nodded amiably enough. Better for Henry to bring it up like this, anyway. 

Alex watched as Henry bit into his cone, pink tongue peeking out to catch a stray drop in the corner of his mouth. Alex shifted in his seat again, though from a different kind of discomfort. 

Maybe Henry was doing it on purpose to get Alex off balance. Probably not, though. 

“I think it's important to be clear so that neither of us feels like we're getting the bad end of the deal.”

“I bet you say that to all the boys,” Alex snarked as he tried to course-correct his thoughts. 

“I do, actually. I like clarity. Now, expectations. For starters, I expect you to not bring up rent again.” Alex opened his mouth, but Henry continued. “I also expect our arrangement to begin immediately, if that's alright with you.”

“Expecting me to run back to Stacy?” Alex asked, sounding bitter.

Henry looked down his nose at him and bit into his cone rather harshly. 

“Hardly.”

Alex stared and raised an eyebrow, leaning back in his chair.

“I would ask that for the duration of our ‘arrangement’, you and I be exclusive.”

“Not a problem for me.”

Henry squinted but went on.

“We'll have to be seen together.”

“Could you sound more upset about it? I think I might have a bit of self-esteem left.”

Alex would be the cause of Henry's next Botox appointment, he was sure of it. He was frowning so hard it was almost a scowl. 

“We will work out a schedule that works for us both, but this should be at least a weekly occurrence.”

“Wait, when you mean public…”

“I mean, there may be photographers.”

Alex’s face went through a journey, but finally settled on something resembling resignation.

“That's fine,” Alex said. Henry was still frowning, but no longer looked quite so frustrated. 

“When you're out on your own, please consider that those photographers might also be around.”

“What? Why? Are you some secret rockstar?”

“Have you ever read US Weekly?” 

Alex made a face. “No.”

“Unfortunately, their photogs don't just stick to B-Line actors anymore. Anyone who is remotely anyone is fair game.”

“And you're somebody is what you're saying.”

Henry pinched his lips and stared at the few remaining inches of his cornetto. “New York society is a ruthless game, Alex.”

Alex didn't remember ever seeing photographers hanging around any of their group outings, but maybe he hadn't been paying close enough attention. 

“I'll make sure I'm presentable.”

“Thank you.”

“Can I ask you something?”

“Of course.”

“What was the deal with the car this morning? I can take the subway.” Alex licked his ice cream, and his tongue peeked out to catch a stray drop at the corner of his mouth.

“I thought it might be nice not to have to rush. You don't know the area, and Richard had already driven me to work, and he likes to be busy.”

“Oh, that's uh, very kind of you.”

“Do you have to sound so surprised?” Henry asked, dry as anything.

“Sorry. And thank you.”

Henry nodded graciously. 

“So, how long do you think we'll have this thing going for?” 

“Six months, I think. Any quicker for an engagement would be suspicious.”

“Engaged!?” Alex choked out.

“I did say the goal was for my mother to see me settle down. I don't think having a roommate will cut it, do you?” Henry looked down his nose again and took the last bite of his cone. 

“You did, yes. I guess I didn't see it go that far, is all.”

“Now, after these six months, if I still haven't gotten promoted, you are free to go on your merry way. Back to Brooklyn or wherever."

"Thanks," Alex said with a wry smile, his tone dripping with irony. His internship was set to finish in May. Surely it shouldn't be a hardship to spend his time off work being wined and dined, even if it came with paparazzi as a questionable add-on. "What if this arrangement falls apart before those six months? I don’t want to end up painted as the villain."

“I just ask that if that is the case, that we have a suitable reason for our ‘breakup’. And that it does not involve infidelity.”

“Whatever shall I do about the slew of men waiting for me?” He waited for Henry to laugh, but noticed that his joke didn’t land. “It won't be a problem,” he conceded.

“Good.”

Alex looked around at the bare kitchen on one side and the fantastic views on the other and sighed.

“Good,” he repeated and popped the end of the cone in his mouth.

Chapter Text

All in all, Alex was almost the perfect roommate. He was quiet, kept to himself, and consistently brought home dinner. Henry often offered to order in instead, but Alex insisted it was the least he could do since Henry refused to have him pay for his accommodations. 

Still, Henry hadn’t had to share a living space in years and hadn’t exactly planned on that changing any time soon. He couldn’t even say why he got a two-bedroom in the first place, except maybe for the hope of having visitors. In the few years since he’d purchased the place, he hadn’t had occasion to have Pez over more than a handful of times; anyone else who’d come over had a place in the city and didn’t require somewhere to crash. 

Henry had never noticed the penthouse's lack of soundproofing. It had come to light when Henry had wandered into the kitchen early in the morning. He’d hoped a strong cup of coffee would help in getting him going – his insomnia wasn’t getting any better with a guest in the house. That is, until the sound of the shower came through the adjoining wall, and Henry realised he was hearing Alex sing. Henry smiled, appreciating Alex's good, strong voice and the comfort he found in being himself.

As he rooted for coffee beans, Henry couldn’t help his thoughts wandering to the way Alex was making himself at home. Alex returned with a few flat-pack boxes three days into his stay, along with a large bag filled with an assortment of Greek foods. Henry hadn’t had spanakopita in years and he’d happily dug in while Alex built a small bookcase in the living room. He’d brought it into his bedroom afterwards, but Henry had enjoyed watching him build it in the living room. Not only had Alex changed into a white T-shirt before starting on his project—his arms and shoulders pulled deliciously at the seams—but also, Alex would most likely not take the time to nest if he didn't intend to stay.  

Alex sang out a particularly high note and Henry laughed, coffee beans forgotten. Henry imagined Alex, eyes closed, as the water ran over him, and felt himself blush in the empty kitchen. He hurriedly shut the cabinet and made for the door as if Alex had caught him peeking. Pulling on his boots and yanking his jacket out of the closet, he slapped the elevator button, trying to distract himself from the increasingly difficult thoughts.

He concentrated on not imagining Alex drying himself off with the thick Egyptian cotton towels Henry had stocked in the guest bathroom.. He couldn't believe himself; here he was, admiring a man who was barely out of a relationship, wrestling with the urge to respect Alex's space while simultaneously grappling with his own intrusive thoughts. He was a lot of things, but he never thought he’d find himself grappling with thoughts that felt beneath him.. 

He walked to the car, admonishing himself for putting himself into the situation in the first place. He chuckled inwardly, half amused and half horrified at the idea of becoming a 'creep' in his own home.. Even if everyone thought Stacy and Alex were a terrible match, no one had ever said so out loud – but this was worse. 

If he were being fair with himself, he might say that he hadn’t actually done anything and one couldn’t control their thoughts, but Henry wasn’t feeling very fair at the moment. 

He nodded brusquely at Richard and slipped into the town car. He had to get his mood under control before he arrived and had to face his brother.   

The ride into work was a quiet one. Richard, who had been his driver for years and knew him well, kept the partition down and his gaze focused ahead, sensing Henry's reluctance to share his thoughts this morning. Most of the time, Richard was privy to Henry's ups and downs, but that morning, Henry was not inclined to share, preferring to keep his shame to himself.

He was lucky again in that he was in so early, no one was on 5th yet. He took his time making his coffee, allowing himself the time to take a much needed sip before covering it with a lid for transport. It was only slightly below scalding yet he reasoned he earned the discomfort, acting like he did. He almost talked himself into thinking he didn't deserve the coffee at all before reason overtook him, and he shook his head at himself on the way to the elevator.

So he heard his roommate in the shower, so what? Not a single New York apartment had good soundproofing, he was sure. 

The whole situation played on a loop while he headed up to his office and the more it played out for him, the more he convinced himself that walking out had been the only reasonable choice. He couldn't risk Alex finding out his not-boyfriend was perving on him through the wall. 

By the time Sophie knocked and walked in his office, Henry found himself looking up contractors for upgrades to his insulation. Surely he could find someone to help with the noiseproofing. 

“Your brother is here for your 9 o’clock,” she said, interrupting his thoughts, before ushering Phillip in. She closed the door behind her as she left, but not without a significant look back at Henry that meant she was available for any emergency interruptions if needed.

Phillip slid into the chair opposite Henry's and fiddled with his cuffs as he made himself comfortable. 

“Brother,” he started.

Bad sign. Phillip only ever called him 'brother' when he wanted something, and as Henry settled in, wary, he braced himself for what was to come.

“Yes, Phillip?”

“How well do you know X era tk?"

"Not really my thing, but I manage,' Henry replied, shrugging.

“That's fine. I have a project for you.”

“Phillip…”

“You'll like this one! Jackson is looking to buy a piece at the Monoi auction.”

“Then I'm sure Jackson will have a wonderful time betting on one.”

“See the thing is –”

“I knew it,” Henry sighed.

“The thing is that he wants it authenticated.”

“Then he should definitely avoid Monoi house.” Monoi was known for its controversial practices surrounding authenticity.

“Wouldn't you be able to tell, though?”

“I could. But I won't.”

“Come on, Henry. It's just a statue. A statuette, really.”

Henry looked down at Phillip and leaned in. 

“I will not vouch for stolen goods, Phillip.”

“He's willing to pay a pretty penny. We could split the fee.”

“No, thank you” Henry said with steel in his voice.

Henry couldn't believe his brother; despite his fleeting thoughts about crossing boundaries with Alex, he prided himself on integrity and would never tarnish it for anything—especially not for his brother's dubious schemes. The man had a sense of ethics equivalent to that of the British museum. Over the years, while managing acquisitions for personal collections and brokering contacts between clients and specialty buyers, he had built connections at the major auction houses and boasted a stellar record for researching a piece's history before making any purchase.

Henry's convictions were admired by those he did business with, but not so much by Phillip – or the board for that matter.

Finding the best auction pieces worldwide was his favorite part of the job. He wanted the promotion to the board primarily to steer the company towards a more ethical business model. Being on the board offered no guarantees, but he hoped to win at least his brother's support. One would think someone so affected by her husband's death would passionately preserve his vision, but something had fundamentally altered her perspective over the past decade.

“Come on, Henry! Wouldn't you say out of everyone here, that you're the best at ensuring what comes through our hands is the real deal?”

Henry frowned. “If any of you bothered to put the effort in –”

“We wouldn't want it known that a fake came through our hands,” Phillip interrupted.

“Really, Phillip? A fake would be disastrous but stolen goods, that's just fine?”

“As long as they're paying for it, I don't see an issue,” Phillip replied.

“Of course you don't.”

“That's why we have you, isn't it? Or is the view bothering you up on your high horse? Think about it, brother. Johnson has a lot of swing with the board.”

Refusing to rise to Phillip's bait, Henry turned his attention to his laptop. The very thought of Monoi House's practices made his stomach churn, but Phillip did have a point about Johnson's influence on the board.

“Mmmh,” Henry replied without looking up. 

Phillip rapped his knuckles twice on the chair arm before rising and taking his leave, leaving the door open behind. Henry would not risk his professional reputation on an X era tk statuette, knowing its provenance was questionable at best.

His father's company had grown since his passing, but not always with the cleanest methods. Henry had always taken a strong moral stance against the company's unethical practices, even though many of his colleagues seemed willing to turn a blind eye. The thought of being associated with Monoi House's dubious dealings made his stomach churn, as he refused to compromise his principles no matter the professional consequences.

Henry watched as the others at Pulsar went about their work, seemingly untroubled by the ethical implications of their acquisitions. He supposed acquisitions did have a kind of sordid reputation. Henry sighed heavily, the weight of his moral dilemma settling on his shoulders. He knew that compromising his principles to appease the board would only lead him further down a path he could never reconcile with his conscience. But with his father's legacy and his own ambitions hanging in the balance, he couldn't afford to be dismissed as a high-minded idealist. As he stared at the laptop screen, Henry steeled his resolve. If he was going to change this company, he would have to play the game, at least for now. But he would never stop fighting

for what he believed was right, no matter the cost.