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2023-09-25
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never too much (or not enough)

Summary:

Alex is a bit of a disaster the night before his finals at NYU, thankfully he has a very supportive boyfriend.

Notes:

(See the end of the work for notes.)

Work Text:

"Sweetheart, are you sure you don't want to come to bed?"

Four hours later and Alex still can't get the question out of his mind, cannot stop seeing the adorable furrow in Henry's brown when he'd asked, not for the first time, if pulling an all-nighter was the best decision. Looking back now, maybe he should have just gone to sleep and trusted that his busy brain had absorbed everything he had learned during the semester.

He'd felt a pang of longing, deep as ever, when Henry bent down to kiss him sweetly and walked away with David on his heels, leaving Alex sitting crossed legged in front of his textbooks and notes for the rest of the night. It still amazes him, how much he misses Henry, even when he isn't thousands of miles away anymore. Even when he is just a room away. Sometimes he thinks he misses him even more when he has to actively restrain himself from being glued to the man he loves at all times.

Times like now.

That string in his chest is always pulling him toward Henry, it always has been - and tonight is no different. Two hours into last minute cramming he knew it was pointless, the words on the pages blurring together. Useless. Now, it's nearly four in the morning and the thought of tossing and turning in bed until sunrise makes him feel guilty for waking Henry up, even if it's just an idea and he logically knows Henry wouldn't mind one bit. 

For as long as he can recall, Alex has always felt like he's a bit much. Not that he dislikes himself, but he can't help but feel like everyone is sort of just putting up with him. Putting up with his boundless energy and his well disguised anxiety. 

Everyone except Henry; that is.

Since the big leak, his mother has been very careful to remind him that he has never let her down. Which, like, thank you but also please don't read any more of those emails, mom. The thought of her stumbling across one of the many, many emails that detail his cock and ass makes him shudder in horror.

Sucks that the whole world knows about his imposter syndrome now too. But no one actually knows the way Henry does. No else ever will. Therapy has helped, for both of them. Mental illness isn't so simple to shake somedays though, and he is attempting to not lean on whiskey as much as he used to.

With a sigh, he takes his glasses off and tosses them onto the nearest table. He pinches the bridge of his nose and takes a deep breath. It's hard to know if the palpitations in his chest are from the copious amounts of caffeine he has consumed or his anxiety about the damn test.

Probably both. 

Some quick math tells him that if goes to sleep in the next ten minutes he can get a good three hours before he has to get ready. If he times it right and doesn't oversleep, it might be for the best. Just as the thought crosses his mind a huge yawn escapes him.

"Alright," he says to no one in particular. He sets an alarm, then another three, and stumbles over to the couch. 

—

Turns out that there is no better alarm than David, who trots up to him just before seven in the morning and jumps onto his stomach without much warning. When the hell did I fall asleep?

Alex grunts, rubs his eyes. When he looks down David is looking up at him, his head resting against his ribs.

"You're lucky you're cute."

It's more than that, though. If David is up then Henry must be too. There is a quiet, soft moment where David curls into his side and Alex scratches his head. In the distance he can hear Henry shuffling around in the kitchen. Still real, still not the best dream he's ever had.

It lasts about thirty seconds, his phone blaring, trilling and vibrating so intensely that it slides off the table, falling onto the floor in a god awful way that has Alex crawling onto the floor to make it stop.

"Can you turn that bloody thing down?!" 

Alex rolls his eyes, knowing Henry can probably sense it from the other room. "I'm fucking trying."

Relief pours through him when he manages to turn it off. It definitely succeeded in waking him, and maybe the rest of the street too. Still, that serenity he'd felt evaporates, tension squeezing his heart when he remembers why he set that alarm to be so loud.

—

The first time that Henry managed to successfully fry an egg his excitement had been so infectious that Alex hadn't been able to stop himself from kissing him senseless against the stove.

It's a memory Alex finds himself coming back to quite often, especially with how applied Henry has become at bettering himself in the kitchen, in learning to do things on his own and take care of himself.

Henry has graduated onto omelettes, and the kitchen smells divine. It's actually insane what a little bell pepper and onion can do.

"Oh, um-" Alex starts, mouth going dry when he sets eyes on his boyfriend. His boyfriend. His, his, his. He hadn't expected Henry to be fully dressed yet. And it's unfair for Henry to look as gorgeous as he does when Alex doesn't have time to do anything about it. "Good morning."

A knowing smile spreads across Henry's face, one that he attempts to fight off by biting down on his bottom lip. A course of action that make Alex's knees feel a bit like butter.

Henry, the bastard, knows how much Alex loves when he wears this outfit. It's just a simple rosy pink button down and a pair of sand colored trousers that hug his hips perfectly, but it drives Alex absolutely insane; the way the color makes Henry's lips pop, the way it makes the slight blush across his cheekbones just a little more obvious.

"Good morning-" A few quick strides across the room and Alex is crushing his mouth against Henry's, his hands pressing into his waist. "Alex!" Henry laughs into the kiss, cupping Alex's cheeks face with one hand and kissing him back while he puts the plate he was in the process of placing onto the table down.

After allowing a few nibbles at his bottom lip, Henry pushes Alex away reluctantly. "No time for that today, dear."

Alex frowns, sighs. With minimal grumbling he sits and bites into a slice of toast.

"You're going to do fine." Henry says, reaching across the small table to take Alex's hand. He rubs his thumb back and forth until some of the tension in Alex's shoulders eases. "And I already hid your cold brew, so don't even think about it."

"But-"

A firm headshake from Henry has Alex closing his mouth, "Oh, put those pixar eyes away. I am quite certain you still have enough caffeine in your system to power a small village."

He drinks his water.

—

Henry's cup of tea had been nearly empty anyway when Alex reaches over and snatches it, gulping it down with a grimace as if it were commiting a heinous crime for daring to not be coffee. 

"Caffeine is caffeine," Alex says, pecking Henry on the lips before heading toward the shower. The ice cold water serves a double purpose: to wake him up and to rid him of the stiffy he is about a thousand and ten percent sure Henry was aware of all through breakfast and fought off paying attention to. 

Anyone else wouldn't know, but Alex is incapable of missing it. The way the tip of Henry's ears are pink, his jaw a bit clenched. It reminds him of the old Henry, tight and drawn up with want.

He can't wait to fuck it out of him later. 

The door is left ajar so Henry can tell Alex about his plans for the day, and Alex smiles listening to Henry talk about what lies in store for the shelter. While Alex dresses, Henry takes David for a quick walk.

"Keys, phone, wallet." Alex mumbles outloud, patting himself down at the same time that Henry and David walk back into the brownstone. He can feel himself forgetting something extremely important but cannot figure out what is. 

"Alex," Henry says, his voice a combination of amused, fond and a bit exasperated. "Darling. You're not wearing any shoes."

"Oh, shit. I'm so gonna bomb this test. I can't even remember to put on my shoes."

"You are not going to "bomb" anything. And if you somehow happen to fail, a term I am using loosely, which you will not, I'm sure your professor will allow you to retake it. Your brain is simply too full of legal terms for shoes."

It sounds true when Henry says it.

"Yeah. Okay. Yeah, you're right."

Before he can make to do it himself, Henry is grabbing the closest pair to the door and handing them to him.

"Very Prince Charming of you, baby," Alex teases, just to see Henry restrain himself from rolling his eyes. "You totally lost points for not slipping them on for me though."

"I'll keep that in mind."

All in all, Alex feels a lot calmer than he had all night and most of the morning. He marvels at the effect that Henry has on him, on how he treats his anxieties with respect and finds ways to help him without infantilism. For the maybe millionth time he wonders how this is the same man he was convinced hated him. 

"Seriously though, thank you."

The smile that Henry gives him is blinding. He knows it won't always be there, and on the days it isn't, he'll do his best at taking care of Henry, just like Henry has done today.

"Always."

When their eyes meet he feels a childish urge to run outside and grab a rose from the nearest garden and place it behind Henry's ear. The only urge stronger is the one to drop to his knee and propose. 

Instead, he wraps his arms around Henry's waist. He pulls him close enough that their chests press together. They stay like that for a long minute. Henry's hand runs up and down his back, between his shoulder blades, and he feels everything in his chest loosen, his mind clear. The other hand massages Alex's neck, his shoulder and biceps.

He pulls back enough to press his forehead against Henry's, his hands moving to his hips. His heartbeat is steady under Henry's palm, where he's placed his hand.

"Go pass your exam," Henry whispers, presses his lips to Alex's forehead then his mouth.

—

In the back of his mind, Alex is aware that he could be getting photographed leaving their apartment with a big, dreamy grin on his face.

But there are way worse ways to end up in a tabloid.

Besides, paps don't really care about the happy moments. 

(They're not in tabloids that often these days.)

Notes:

this is sort of based on my own experiences with anxiety before exams in college, but also inspired by the little scene at the end of the film where henry comforts alex.

but really this started cause i wanted henry to help alex with his shoes lol

hope you enjoyed this silly lil thing, and if you did i would so appreciate hearing from you 💓