Archive of Our Own ^beta

John loved Alexander. He loved him so much. The man was practically a part of him by this point. Using words to say how much John loved Alexander would be inadequate. But, that’s why he hated to see him like that.

Alexander thought too much, in other news: water is wet. However, every now and then, he’d think about them and their relationship. Alexander had always been prone to self deprecation, and for some reason that John would never be able to understand, Alex seemed to think of himself is less than; unworthy of John. The notion was ridiculous, because of course he wasn’t less than, he was everything to John, absolutely everything. But he couldn’t really call it “ridiculous”, because the thought tormented him.

“Hey, what’s up?” John fell onto their couch, glanced at Alexander’s phone from a distance as to not pry. He slung his arm around Alex.

“Nothing much,” he responded. “What about you? What’s up?”

“Mm. Just spending time with my favorite person in the world,” he grinned. Alexander’s smile was small, preoccupied. “Y’alright?”

“Yeah: perfect, because you’re here,” he deflected. Smooth. But not undetected.

He spoke through his smile, “You know I love you? Because I do. I could never tell you enough. I could count the stars in the sky before I could tell you how much I love you.” Alex’s hand cupped John’s cheek.

“My sweet boyfriend,” he hummed, “a real charmer.”

“Some might say that my boyfriend is a charmer, as well.” Alexander sighed, both content and troubled.

“What did I do to deserve you?” He wondered affectionately.

“You blessed me with your presence, that’s what you did.” Alexander’s hand fell and he kept up his smile to feign nonchalance.

“But I’m a handful.”

“I’ve got two hands, Alex.” He chuckled.

“I really am a pain, though…” He glanced to the side, leaned a bit away from John. “You’re so creative, artistic, wonderful, kind, passionate, and I’m just me.”

“Don’t you dare imply that you are none of those things. Only someone as creative and passionate as you could write me those old-fashioned love letters that you tossed onto my desk freshman year. Only someone as artistic as you could use that phrasing. Only someone as kind as you could comfort me when I do something stupid and I could only love someone as wonderful as you.” John placed his hands over Alexander’s, who still refused to meet his eyes. “Alex, can you look at me?” So, he did. “I love you.” His smile returned.

“I love you, too.” John kissed his boyfriend, held him close. He could feel Alexander relaxing, he could hear his mind quieting.