Red, White, & Royal Pain

11.2

Needless to say, sleep was foreign to Henry that night. Swirling through his mind was the tragedy that was Elio and Oliver, beautiful images of somewhere in Northern Italy, but most importantly, the rash accusations he threw at his boyfriend.

Alex would never leave him; he loved him, this he knew, so how come his words had betrayed him? How come he accused his boyfriend of breaking him in the way he said he would, the way Oliver did to Elio. After a film like Call Me By Your Name, Henry should have held Alex and they should have wept together. He shouldn't be alone in his cold bed, tossing and turning for hours on end. But it was his own doing, this he also knew. Perhaps he deserved this.

He managed to get an hour of sleep, somewhere around 7am, but once he awoke after that, he knew there was no more trying. Sighing, Henry stood up without bothering to throw on the discarded shirt at the edge of his bed or even comb back his hair.

A ghost of a smile splayed on Henry's lips as he thought of how his mornings following a sleepless night usually began. Alex would already be in the kitchen cooking him a breakfast of runny eggs and overcooked bacon. Henry would chuckle and lightly remind Alex that for someone with such a culinarily inclined father, he couldn't cook for shit. Alex would tell him to shut up but with a sweet smile on his lips and pull Henry in for a hug, the skin-to-skin contact of their shirtless chests would warm Henry even on the coldest of mornings, both inside and out. Your Song would be humming through the speakers, or something else of the sort. Then they'd dance and eat and talk and laugh and smile. Wishfully, Henry hoped Alex would be in that kitchen this morning, awaiting Henry's apology, willing to listen. However, that was only wishful thinking.

Henry sulked into the kitchen, David following close behind. He filled up his bowls with food and water before he let him in the backyard to urinate. The beagle gave him a confused look, as confused of an expression a dog could make, presumably at the notion of Henry letting him out to pee instead of being taken out for a walk as he normally is. However, this morning wasn't normal.

The rest of the morning, Henry merely went through the motions. He turned on the tv, some old sitcom was on that he and Alex would make fun of for the mere cheesiness of it on a normal morning, but it played in the background while Henry gazed out the window, sipping his coffee. It was raining, a drizzle but still pattering down hard and Henry almost chuckled at the irony of it all. The movie and the fight and the lack of sleep and now its bloody raining. He actually did begin to chuckle for a moment until he heard the sound of keys wiggling through the door.

Hesitantly, Henry stood and slowly walked towards the door as he took in Alex. His Alex. If Henry looked like a mess, which he was sure he did, Alex looked the same. His dark curls were ruffled and his eyes were bloodshot from the apparent lack of sleep, similarly to how he probably looked at the moment.

"Alex, I—" Henry began, his voice rough from the misuse, before Alex cut him off.

"Henry, if I've ever done anything to make you doubt my love for you, I'm sorry, truly." How could he think that, Henry thought. Oh, maybe because you practically told him as much you bloody idiot.

"No, Alex, no. You've done nothing to question your love for me. I know you love me, I—I was stupid and let my own dumb insecuries cloud my judgement and for that, I am sorry," he gulped.

"Baby," Alex cracked, opening up his arms, perhaps the most beautiful sight Henry had ever seen. "C'mere," Without a second thought, Henry ran into Alex's arms, admittedly cheesy and romcom-esque, but cheesy be as it may, it couldn't have felt more right.

"Your insecurities are not dumb, Henry. Not dumb at all, a movie like that is bound to make anyone feel insecure," Alex murmured into his hair. Henry simply nodded and breathed in his boyfriend, his beautiful, understanding boyfriend.

"I love you," Henry said, looking into Alex's eyes for confirmation, confirmation that despite his insecurities, despite how much of an asshole, he still felt the same.

"I love you, Alex," Alex said. Henry's eyes narrowed slightly before Alex kept going. "Call me by your name and I'll call you by mine," he spoke, his rough voice scarily resembling that of Armie Hammer's in that sensual scene.

"Henry," Henry breathed. "Henry, Henry, Henry."

"Alex," Alex repeated in a blissful moan of a tone.

And the look in Alex's dark orbs, with the love that shone from deep within them, Henry knew, they were not Elio and Oliver, they were Henry and Alex, which meant much, much more.