Red, White & Royal Blue Stories

• It's Too Much 2 • Henry § Alex •

𝒉𝒆𝒍𝒍𝒐
• ———— •

"Good boy" Alex hummed, bending down to unclip David's leash and give his ears a well deserved scratch. He panted, leaning into his touch happily.

The brownstone was quiet, with Henry working on the shelter and Alex just returning from a walk, the television was off, the record lifted up from the vinyl once softly playing a song from his childhood. His father had sent him some of his vinyl collections a few months after originally moving in.

With a gentle sway in his steps he replaced the needle, turned up the volume and hummed to the Spanish lyrics. It was only early afternoon, lunch digesting in his stomach, David amusing himself with his toys, he had free time to do anything he liked.

That was a feeling he still wasn't quite used to.

He was four months into his gap year and it had been... a struggle. Every night he was plagued with anxieties and uncertainties, worrying his university wouldn't take him back even if they assured him they would.

Sometimes Henry would find him in his office, scrambling for something to do to escape his spiralling thoughts and desperate urges to cry.

Every time, Henry would collect him in his arms, sit him down on the living room couch and coax the tears out from his waterline.

It helped, in the end.

Early on he started his therapy sessions, at first he joined with Henry to get a feel for them, as soon as he was comfortable he began his own with the same therapist - a lovely non-gender conforming person who used all pronouns. They understood Alex's situation (as he had been outed before, although not to the grandiose scale, on a smaller level, he understood) and that was enough for Alex.

For the first time in two years, he's felt relief. He's felt like he's been able to talk and feel things without the gnawing guilt and jabs of selfishness.

He's allowed himself to feel weak in front of Henry. He's allowed himself to be mad.

It was just over the first month when he snapped. He was making himself an early morning coffee, the drudges of sleep trying to lure him back in. A moment of weakness struck him and his favourite mug slipped from his grasp and shattered against the floor.

He cursed. He slammed his hand on the counter and cursed again.

Henry pattered into the room curiously, his eyes sleepy. Alex straightened, ramrod, instinctively shoving the emotions away until he remembered that it was okay. He let them settle. Let them exist within him as Henry helped sweep up the shards.

In the end, he didn't feel hollow or tired. He felt calm, relaxed after allowing the emotions to run their course.

Henry had hugged him, kissed his temple and told him how proud he was. Alex could've cried if he had his coffee by that point.

As weeks went by, the time off became more freeing. He lost the sense of urgency to do something , and allowed himself to reprieve. He visited June and Nora, spent time with his father at the lake, hung out with his mother (her keeping an eye on him to make sure he didn't try and involve himself with her presidency work), and with Zahra always on his back (in the least stressful way she could manage) he's become better.

Most importantly, Henry is incredibly proud of him.

By the end of the year he might return to law school, or he might take another year to do other things. He didn't know yet. All he did know was this year was to do nothing but what he wanted; and he was basking in it.

Henry came home around six that afternoon, Alex had finished their dinner - enchiladas, one of Henry's favourites - only to notice Henry looked appalled. Incredibly upset, barely withholding his tears.

"Baby?"

Henry snapped up, forcing a trembling smile. "Love. How are you?" He asked first, stepping over and pecking his cheek before making a hasty retreat to the staircase. Alex frowned and followed after him.

"I'm fine. What about you?"

"Oh, fine, fine" Henry dismissed, entering their bedroom and letting the door glide halfway shut behind him. A hint to be left alone; but Alex knew this. He's done this. And he wasn't letting Henry fall into the same habits he had.

He stepped into the room, Henry was tugging off his cardigan, keeping his back turned.

"Henry," he said, "talk to me. What's wrong?"

A small sigh escaped him. Slowly, he sat on the bed, pressing a hand to his face.

"Must we do this tonight?"

"We must," Alex agreed, flopping down beside him. Henry hummed.

"Are you... well enough to deal with me?" He asked, half chuckling, half grimacing. Alex appreciated it nonetheless.

"Yes, I am" he promised, he was. "Talk to me" he repeated, grabbing his hand.

Henry ran his thumb across Alex's skin. His eyes were glued to their touch, bottom lip shaking.

"A girl-" he started, "Lacy, was her name. She- um. She was lovely. Came from a conservative family and visited the shelter when she needed an escape. She was- she was-" he hiccuped, biting his bottom lip. Alex kissed his knuckles gently, fearing the worst.

"She was attracted to girls and didn't understand why. We tried to help, she was getting better- but she-" he cut off again, sniffling deeply. "She took her life early this morning. News came to the shelter, I... I could barely do anything for the whole day" he admitted shakily, "it's so unfair, Alex. Her parents- she deserved to live " he said, anger pouring into his tone.

Alex shifted closer, wrapping an arm around his waist. "I'm so sorry, baby" he whispered against his ear, "this isn't anyone's fault. It's hard to notice the signs, sometimes"

"But I should have, Alex. I run the shelter to protect gay youth. How can I do that if I don't know when they'll-?" He cut himself off, too choked up to say it.

"Henry, look at me"

He blinked up.

"You are fucking amazing at what you do, I've seen how you interact with those kids. How you help them. You've saved so many of their lives, this isn't your fault" he repeated strongly, "it's her fucking parents and her fucked upbringing that did this. It's a travesty. But don't you dare blame yourself, you did everything you could" he said, holding his stare.

Henry made a strangled sort of noise, falling into Alex and burying his face into his shoulder. Alex held him, for the next few hours they cuddled in bed, sometimes exchanging soft words, but mostly to allow Henry to rest, and cry, because he's obviously bottled it up all day.

"Your dinner" he mumbled eventually, when the sun had set and the moon shine poured through their floor-to-ceiling windows. "I'm sorry, it must be cold"

"It's fine," he dismissed, playing with his hair. "We can heat it up. Or have it tomorrow"

Henry nodded, "that sounds good. I'm-... I'm not so hungry right now"

"That's okay, baby" he kissed his forehead. "Sleep, I'll be here"

Henry smiled, they both stripped to their boxers, Alex leaving Henry for a moment to put the food into the fridge and clean up a bit.

He realised, quite startlingly, as he began walking upstairs how much of a huge milestone this was.

Being able to comfort Henry without feeling like he was hiding a part of himself in the process, allowing both of them to feel the full force of their emotions without repressing a single part.

He smiled as he stepped into the bedroom, collapsing beside Henry and tugging him into his side.

Henry rolled into him, tiredly pressing his face into his shoulder.

"Take the day off tomorrow?" Alex requested quietly. He smiled against his skin.

"Of course"

• ———— •
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