Archive of Our Own

“How long is forever?” asked Alice
“Sometimes, just one second,” said the White Rabbit.

Friday, November 7, 2025

It happens momentarily, the first time Alex sees him again. Time slows nearly to a stop— never mind the fact that he’s mid-pour; the bottle of Johnnie Walker Blue he’s using as a floater tipped just so, the golden liquid spilling into the rocks glass getting dangerously close to overflowing.

In the back of the crowd, on a typically busy Friday night at Allegory, a flash of blond hair pulls Alex’s attention; which wouldn’t be anything new—Alex has a type— except for the laugh that cuts clearly through the murmur of conversations. The bright bubble of incandescent joy that he’s somehow still entirely too familiar with, a laugh he would recognize anywhere, regardless of the number of years since it was last heard.

“Shit,” the word is quiet enough that no one around him hears it fall from his lips as reality comes crashing back in and time seemingly speeds up again. He rights the bottle and the pour stops just shy of the rim as Alex glances to the side, making sure no one caught his moment of— what even was that?— Hallucination? Insanity?

Picking up the glass carefully, Alex places it down on a cocktail napkin across the bar top as to not actually make a mess— or to seem like it’s his first night on the job, rather than the owner— he gives a smile to the man it’s placed in front of with a nod of ‘cheers’ to the look of absolute delight by the pour he’s just received.

With a chuckle to himself, Alex lets his eyes flick up to the spot he had just pulled himself away from, scanning the space quickly in search of a face he doesn’t dare allow himself hope to find.

That would be impossible.

No, that would be improbable. Alex would have a better chance of seeing a real ghost rather than the in-the-flesh stature of the not-actually-dead ghost that haunts his memory when he allows himself to let it wander that far. Turning away from the crowded interior of the bar, Alex places the bottle of whisky back into its spot on the shelf and allows himself a moment to take a breath, a steady 4-count in through the nose before he spots Natalie loading up a tray of cocktails.

Out– 2,3,4.

“You really think you’ll make it through that crowd with that?” he teases over the hum of the dozens of conversations happening around them.

“Is that a challenge, boss?” Natalie says with a grin forming on her lips, an eyebrow lifting in question. Grabbing a pint glass and flicking the tap arm so a dark stout pours from the mouth, it’s a quick moment before she's pulling it back and placing the beer on the tray with the other drinks and turns to fix her eyes back on Alex, “You think that’s wise?”

“Just an observation,” he says, his hands moving up in surrender as he dips his head slightly with a laugh.

“Oh, pleeease” her eyes roll with her expression, exasperated, yet fond. She was one of few that could handle Alex’s bullshit on the daily, after having worked with him since before the true conception of this place. “Besides, you ain’t got the height either, asshole.”

Alex gapes at her, his mouth opening and closing in a very fish-like manner. “Fuck off! 5' 9” is average!” he says, reaching for the drink ticket that’s printed next to his hip where he’s leaning against the bar back.

Lifting the tray effortlessly, Natalie sidesteps Alex, pauses at the edge of the bar top and says, “sure, sure— you keep telling yourself that,” before disappearing into the crowd. Alex shakes his head and reaches for a shaker glass at the same time his other hand grabs a bottle of Tanqueray, his mind temporarily forgetting about the not so stranger he didn't know if he even saw.

Nearly an hour later Alex makes a show of untying the deep green apron that had become the only uniform staple for the Allegory bartending team, unceremoniously relieving himself of bar duties for the night. He needs a different distraction, knows he's going to get it when he’s out on the floor talking to his patrons. If he happens to be able to take a lap around, happens to let his eyes scan the crowd– to wonder what he would even say if he did find that particular shade of blond hair amongst them; that’s no one’s business but his own.

He won’t find it though— because that wouldn’t be probable. Not here. Maybe in another life, another time.

It’s what they had said, after all.

2:42am. The glow of dim red numbers mock Alex as his head rolls back to focus again toward the ceiling above him.

His usual witching hour came quicker tonight than it normally did. Alex had left sometime around 11, falling into his own bed in nothing but a pair of sweatpants hanging low along his hips, something resembling sleep pulling at his consciousness.

He wasn’t that lucky though, his mind rarely turned off, and his thoughts soon had him wide awake, one arm folded behind his head as the other was extended above him— a matchbook that, somehow, time hadn’t disintegrated yet twirling between his fingers. Alex had dug it out of the confines of his bedside table not too long ago, his thumb now grazing the slightly raised letters that spelled out the pub's name The White Rabbit.

He always found himself smirking at the name—it was fitting. The White Rabbit; couldn’t stay, no explanation, late for something important, something life changing… and yet Alice followed him down the rabbit hole into Wonderland all the same.

Alex could relate; if given the chance, he’d have followed that man to Wonderland all over again. If only.

That was just one second though, in the grand scheme of things.

One afternoon that bled into night over a decade ago, and not ever since.

April 2015 - 10:17 am BST

If asked, Alex wouldn’t have an answer for what pulled him into that lecture hall to answer the call coming through that morning. Nor for why he sat there even after ending the call to sort through his inbox, sending off replies even though it was just barely dawn in New York. At this point, no one in the office should be shocked to receive messages from Alex as early as 3am. He and Raf had been in London for the last week, their final stop being here at Oxford University for a few meetings with the law faculty dean and some of his directors.

It wasn't until the door to the left of him shut rather aggressively that Alex finally looked up and took in his surroundings. The students that had filed in around him, most chatting amongst each other as they got situated for the class that was, apparently, going to begin shortly.

Alex took that for what it was; as he was bracing his hands on the table to bring himself to a stand so that he could leave, the door at the front of the hall opened and his eyes tracked a man as he walked in. Alex registered the distinct shift of something—he didn’t know what— in the atmosphere around him and at the same time, felt the air from his lungs leave in the same breath that had him slowly lowering back down into the seat.

The man stood at the front of the classroom— the professor, he assumed, though he looked a little too young for that. He couldn’t have been more than a year or two older than Alex, if that. A TA then, maybe. Either way, he seemed to waste no time in diving right into his topic, lifting the book he had been holding between his palms. Love In the Time of Cholera. It was worn in and tabbed in multiple colors—probably highlighted as well if Alex had to guess— and all at once he wanted to know every thought scribbled by this man in its margins.

“Right, so let’s pick up right where we left off earlier this week— who wants to start” Alex really shouldn’t have been surprised by the accent, the way it curled around syllables as he spoke. They were in the UK, at Oxford for fucks sake… he’d spent the last week in meetings with professors and heads of departments who all had similar accents with no effect on him whatsoever. Now, here he was in a lecture hall full of students, in a class he didn’t belong to, completely helpless to it.

He wasn’t going anywhere.

He would admit to exactly no one that he sat there in the back of that class for the entire 90 minutes, his attention never once leaving the man at the front of the room. He couldn’t help it, really. Leaning forward in his seat if only to get a closer look at him, his blond hair swooping across his forehead as if it just did that all on its own. He was beautiful, yes– but it wasn't just that, this man was passionate in the way he spoke and the way he engaged with the students, pressing them to look further, to dig deeper. There were more than a few times where Alex very nearly threw his hand in the air just to have his attention for a moment.

Never in his life had he ever been so taken by the mere presence of a person. He wanted more– fuck, he wanted anything if it came from him. He would never get it though, he never did have that kind of luck on his side.

As the class wrapped up, it was only then that Alex finally stood to let himself back through the doors he’d slipped in hours ago.

“Jesus, kid— I’ve been looking everywhere for you. Where the fuck’ve you been?” Luna’s voice cut through the shuffle of closing books and bags being repacked.

“Don’t call me kid—” Alex said on instinct, the usual call and response between himself and his mentor. “I was just… catching up on emails,” his voice trailed off distractedly. Alex’s hand flexed on the door he was holding open as he looked back towards the front of the lecture hall one final time. This time, he was met by a pair of crystal blue eyes watching him.

Fuck, if that wasn’t something.

Alex held his gaze for a moment longer than he probably should before he finally broke away, his eyes shifting to the floor as if willing his feet to move as he heard Luna call after him again.

“What the fuck—” he breathed once the door closed behind him, his hand raising to run through his dark curls, an attempt to ground himself back in reality before he started after Luna, who was waiting at the exit for him.

He doesn't see the blond push his way out of those same doors, eyes scanning the halls in search of something… or someone.

Tuesday, November 11, 2025

He’d be lying if he said that his mind hasn’t been stuck in an entirely different head space the last couple days. It wasn't the first time that this has happened, it wasn't the first time that Alex had been brought back to a moment 10 years ago, a moment that fundamentally changed his entire life. A moment that not a single solitary soul knew about outside of himself and the blond brit with eyes so many different shades of blue that Alex could make an entire swatch book out of them.

Eyes he still sees in his dreams far too often than he cares to admit.

He knows how crazy it sounds, and gets why June and Nora struggle to understand what’s wrong with him when it comes to his love life. He’s been on the receiving end of Nora’s rant about how he could pull anyone, guy or girl, at the drop of a hat, multiple times over the years. Has heard June—and his mother—tell him just how much of a catch he is.

And look, it’s not like he hasn't had relationships, he has. A few over the years (thank you very much, Nora); Kate had been his longest– 4 years and a handful of months. Their relationship had been great, Alex was pretty sure everyone around him assumed this was the one, that she was the one; he’s pretty sure Kate thought that as well.

He had loved her, he had— but it all became clear one morning in early August of 2020 as Alex sat alone at the lake house, a pen from another lifetime writing the words down on paper in black and white; the soft hum of the record player in the kitchen playing through the open window

’—when the truth is told; you can get what you want or you can just get old—’

He hadn’t been happy with where he’d been. He hadn’t been happy with what he had been doing, with who he had let himself, unconsciously or not, become. It had made him pause, made him wonder if this had really been it, if life had meant to be that uneventful stroll of acceptance. That’s really what it was, wasn’t it– acceptance because it had been there; not because it was something that he’d wanted. He’d prided himself on trusting his gut and knowing the right thing to do, or at least trying to do things for the right reasons; he didn't know where along the line he’d stopped doing that.

Alex had made himself take a real look at his future that day, and among a list of other things; the honest truth was that he didn’t see Kate in it.

If Alex really let himself think about it now, it was probably in that moment that he made the decision to blow the rest of his life up as well.

‘You’re gunna kick off before you even get halfway through—‘

Nothing says starting over like ending a 4 and a half year relationship and a 8 year, well-established law career in one fell swoop.

When will you realize? Vienna waits for you—‘

Tuesdays were generally slow at Allegory.

Actually, that was a lie, there was rarely a day that was slow; they just didn't have a wait list hours long on Tuesdays. The beginning of the week were the days that were mostly used for private events, when companies bought out either the entire space or just the Library, if it was a smaller affair.

In the almost 5 years that Allegory has been open, it still awed Alex what it had become, what he had made of it. It was something he created out of a last ditch effort to do something that felt right in the pits of his soul, something that fulfilled that empty feeling, and that longing to be the good— as cliche as that sounded. Becoming a lawyer was supposed to do that, and it had, for a little while; until it all felt wrong, until he wasn’t helping the little guy anymore, until it all felt like a giant joke that the universe was playing on him.

And so— Allegory.

Turns out, that hyper-focus that once was used for trial prep and endless sleepless nights of caffeine fueled research was easily redirected. Allegory went from mountains of lists on paper and in Alex’s phone to a brick and mortar reality in less than a year. He had help, of course he did, he had Nora running numbers on the neighborhood and doing his books for the first year that they were open. He had June’s creative eye making his vision something of a reality— and the vision was a hell of a story.

Allegory wasn’t just a bar, it was Alex’s riot against how things were supposed to be; taking the norm and flipping it on its head– making noise when everyone wanted silence because it was simpler, because it was more palatable. Alex had spent nearly eight years following the rules, and being quiet, and doing what he was told because it was simple, because it was easy; and it hadn’t made him happy, hadn’t in a long time.

By definition, Allegory was change; a push back— an interpretation. A bar that took literature, art, and social good, and blended it with cocktails and an experience one would be hard pressed to find anywhere else; at least that’s what he’s been told. He’d sent June on a hunt for a local artist to create a mural spanning nearly the entire length of wall space on either side of the room. He’d hired the best mixologists he could find and they had crafted what was now an award winning cocktail menu cheekily titled “Down the Rabbit Hole” that told the story of Alice in Wonderland and Through the Looking Glass through the eyes of Ruby Bridges– the first Black child to desegregate the William Frantz Elementary School in Louisiana in 1960– one cocktail at a time; the same story depicted in the murals on the walls.

Allegory wasn’t just a bar.

It was an experiment to see how far outside the box Alex could push himself. He’d been working in big law for closing in on a decade, he lived a modest life, had spent more nights with his nose in court briefs and depositions than out on the town; so that big law paycheck just sat there in his bank account, untouched for the most part outside of necessities and bills. The building that Allegory now occupies was the first real ‘dumb purchase’ Alex made in his adult life.

It wasn’t what it is now, of course— it had simply been a building with a quirky emerald green door at the edge of Brooklyn Bridge Park that happened to be for sale. For as indecisive and stubborn as Alex could be… for as much of an overthinker that he was, he hadn’t thought twice about it. He called the number on the sign and bought it at asking, full cash offer.

Now, it was more of the same. He still lives a fairly modest life, outside of the one splurge he allowed himself– his 2 bedroom townhouse in Brooklyn Heights overlooking the promenade. June says it was because of the vaulted ceilings and the skylights in the kitchen, Nora claims it was because of the 10 minute walk to work– both were valid reasons, and did go into the decision making process… but in reality, it was the terrace just off the living room. Big enough for a couple pieces of patio furniture and overlooking the East River– Lady Liberty in the distance on a clear day. Alex had strung up lights along the metal rails overhead for when it got dark and he wasn’t ready to face the quiet interior, preferring the chaos noise of the Brooklyn-Queens Expressway below— it made the noise in his head seem like it was less somehow.

For all that he has, for everything that he’s accomplished— for as full as his life sometimes feels; Alex still has that something in the back of his mind. He lost track of what it was years ago, but it had always felt important; like he’d know it when it found him.

So, he waits for it.

Alex is even less prepared the second time he sees him again. He had all but convinced himself he’d imagined seeing him Friday night; that there was no possible way that the leggy blond from over 10 years ago wound up in his bar. It would have been the first time in quite a while that Alex had conjured up that particular hallucination. It felt different though– the room, the atmosphere that night, he hasn’t been able to shake it.

Tonight on the other hand, there was no mistaking– he was there. There wasn’t that large of a crowd to swallow him— Allegory was closed to the public tonight for a private event. The English department at NYU having bought out the space for the night for some kind of guest lecturer meet and greet with the faculty and heads of the department; Alex wasn’t even supposed to be working tonight, but he’d be lying if he said that he wasn’t curious as to what this particular group of people thought about his bar.

So here he was, his usual black dress shirt with sleeves rolled up to the elbows, black slacks tailored to perfection, the only thing distinguishing himself from his staff was his lack of olive green apron that the rest of them sported. He gave himself away though, as he could frequently be found clearing table tops of emptied rocks and highball glasses, expertly balancing up to 6 glasses in his hands before making his way back behind the bar to get them into the dishwasher; never one to be able to stand around and just observe, Alex was always on the move.

“Is it possible to just get a simple Gin and Tonic?”

The voice comes from in front of him as Alex has his head down, amusingly enough, a bottle of gin in his hand that he’s silently measuring into a glass. Alex lets a laugh escape without looking up from what he’s doing, the gin bottle falls back into its place and he reaches for the tin shaker to his right, pouring the mixture of liquids into it, followed by the glass, giving it a smack to create the seal.

“We don’t exactly dabble in simplicity here—” Alex says, raising both the shaker and his head, the grin already playing on his face, ready to pitch something a little more fantastical. He isn’t expecting to be met with familiar blue eyes and blond hair; a little older but still just as striking as they had been when he left them over a decade ago. He doesn’t falter, not really, as he straightens up, his hands still around the shaker and glass positioned at his shoulder; Alex feels his heartbeat quicken, feels himself swallow hard as he allows himself a breath, a millisecond in time before he’s back to shaking the concoction in his hand. “I– uh,” Alex clears his throat roughly “ I think we can make an exception, though”

Alex brings the shaker back down to the bar, hitting the heel of his palm to the tin to break the seal, straining the orange liquid over a large cube of ice in a short rocks glass, and sliding it over to his right, letting one of the other bartenders finish the garnish.

Letting his eyes look back to the man on the other side of the bar, he sees the physical embodiment of the shock he feels on the face in front of him, and Alex nods in silent agreement, trying to find the words, any words.

“Please tell me this isn’t an insanely vivid dream– that you’re real right now” is the best he can come up with. He drops a few long rectangular ice cubes into a tall highball glass, picking back up that bottle of gin, another mental count to measure into the glass before pivoting to the fridge behind him and pulling out a glass bottle of tonic water, cracking the seal on it, keeping his hands busy and his eyes anywhere but on the guy in front of him.

“Actually– don’t tell me." He stutters out quickly, "I’m not sure I want to know if you’re not.” Alex pauses his movement for a moment as he says the words, his eyes shutting tight, as if he was trying to reset himself; fix the glitch.

“Alex…?” There is waver in Henry’s voice, a question in it— as if he's having the same thoughts, trying to figure out if this was truly reality or a sick twisted mind game.

But oh, did that voice sound so good around his name. He’d only heard it once before, and it felt just as visceral now as it did then.

Dropping a mixing spoon into the glass, he stirs the drink a few turns before grabbing a lime wheel, draping it across the top and sliding it across the bar, finally letting his eyes raise, taking in Henry once again, fully. He's now joined by what Alex assumes is one of his colleagues— which… brought up a whole new series of questions, starting with what the hell was Henry doing here, in his bar, at this event.

“A simple gin and tonic,” the smile on Alex’s lips is genuine as he pushes off the bar “...cheers” he adds, his index finger tapping the bar top twice before he turns, nearly running into Natalie as he does. He doesn’t say a word, doesn't realize he’s holding his breath; barely hears Henry calling after him again– only the third time he’s heard his name in that voice— as he pushes through the doors to the back of house, bee-lining to his office and shutting the door behind him, flipping the lock.

Alex lets his entire weight fall against the door, head thudding back against it in the same manner.

“What the fuck is happening” he says to himself, a hand running down his face as the silence of his office is interrupted by a knock to the door he’s still leaning against.

April 2015 - 2:04pm BST

“You know, trespassing on lectures you’re not enrolled in is against university guidelines…”

The voice came from his right side, too close for him to not have noticed anyone approaching, and caused Alex to jump, his cell phone doing a dance between his hands before he secured it in time to prevent it from falling to the ground.

“Jesus fuck! Warn a guy would—” the words die on Alex’s tongue as he spun around only to be met by a pair of deep blue eyes and blond hair and a sudden loss of air in his lungs that he was becoming strangely familiar with.

“Oh.” he breathed, “Hi–” Alex paused as his mind caught up with the words actually spoken to him rather than the lips they came from. “Sorry… trespassing? Really? You spent 90 minutes discussing a book. Not that it’s not worth the discussion, Love in the Time of Cholera is a masterpiece of Latino literature– The way it explores class structures and expectations and their influence on love and the struggle between what you want and what’s practical—”

Alex had to stop himself before he tailspun into a soliloquy he didn't even know he had cued up; despite the sparkle that seemed to appear in the other man’s eyes as he watched Alex, clearly making no move to stop him himself. “—but you weren’t giving away secrets of the monarchy” he deadpanned, unable to control the smartass part of his brain that, more often than not, took control of his mouth.

“And yet, you stayed. The whole time— even though we were just discussing a book.” The sarcastic air quotes around the last part of his sentence seemed to be implied, but there was a lightness to the man's voice giving away his amusement.

Alex couldn’t help the smile that pulled at the edges of his lips, his tongue pressing up into his back molar as he nodded his head in agreement “yeah— yeah I did.” he said in between a breathy laugh, his eyes shifting from the man in front of him to take a brief glimpse around the coffee shop they were standing in. Nodding his head in the direction of the counter, Alex let his gaze find the other’s once more.

“It wasn't the book that kept me there, though...”

Alex let the sentence trail off as he turned to the counter and the girl standing behind it ready to take his order “Americano, please. Triple shot, over ice and like a dash of cinnamon, if you have it? Oh, and a—” Alex’s body turned back slightly towards his current company gesturing for him to order.

“Oh, erm– Earl Grey, thank you.”

Alex couldn't pull his eyes away from him and he really didn’t know why, it was just like in the lecture hall when he was just stuck in place, completely caught in this man's orbit, fated to be stuck in his gravitational pull. His eyes traveled the length of his body this time, taking in the whole of him; all long legs and broad shoulders, the way his hands slipped casually in his pockets, and how it somehow accentuated exactly where his waist cut in.

He couldn't think of a time he’d been so instantly attracted to someone’s presence like he was right now. His gaze traveled back up to the man’s face only to find him looking right back, and Alex might have been embarrassed except for the fact that he wanted him to know. “Payment. For crashing your class” he said, turning back to the counter and paying for their drinks, hoping the gesture allows him to borrow a little more of this man’s time.

“What was it? That kept you in the class… earlier?” He asked as they stepped to the side to wait for their drinks.

“I think you know very well what it was.” Alex spoke around a laugh, their eyes meeting once again which only made the smile on his face grow wider.

“Humor me.”

Their drinks were placed on the counter in front of them and Alex picked the tea up, holding it out to him, their fingers brushing as it was taken from his hand. Bringing his own drink to his lips, he smiled into it as he took a sip, shaking his head.

“Are you doing anything right now? Would you want to maybe–” Blue eyes sought out Alex’s darker ones again as he paused, seemingly trying to decide what he wanted to say “find something to do?”

At this point, Alex was pretty sure he would follow this man into a dark alley if he led the way. As ill-advised as it might be, being that they didn't know each other from a hole in the wall, Alex wanted to know more. He wanted to spend his afternoon with him, wanted to listen to this guy talk about— well, anything actually, if he really thought about it. Alex would happily allow his voice to narrate his dreams for the rest of his days.

“I—” and the thing was, Alex truly couldn't think of a good enough reason not to, and he found that he didn't want to find a reason. “Yeah, I really fucking do, sweetheart”

Tuesday, November 11, 2025 - 8:07pm EST

Alex hasn’t moved from his place against the door, hoping that maybe whoever was on the other side would just turn back around. Another set of knocks follows that thought, this time a little more impatient.

“You know I have a key, right? Open the damn door, Alex” His name is punctuated by, what he assumes to be, a palm smacking gently against the wood.

Natalie. He should have known better than to assume any other person would follow him back to his office. Natalie had been right there as he had turned around, all but sending them both to the floor in his need to leave the room, probably the only one who noticed even the slightest hint of fluster from him. Once upon a time she had told him that she would be his greatest pain in the ass– she was living up to that claim with every year that passed of them working together.

He's grateful for it most days.

“Alright, alright!” Pushing off the door, Alex flips the lock and opens it, not even bothering to try and prevent the copper haired demon from pushing her way past him on her way in.

“You good…?” It’s clear that Natalie is holding back her preferred line of questioning, the way her eyebrows nearly hit her hairline gives her away. “I’ve never seen you flee before— like a murderer at the crime scene. What the hell, dude?”

Alex allows a deep sigh to escape him, probably a little more dramatic than it needed to be but he thinks he deserves the dramatics in this current moment. Shutting the door again, he walks over to the deep brown leather couch in the corner of the office, and sinks down onto it, his elbows propping on the top of his knees as his hand scrubs over his face.

“I’m fine” he says after a moment, “I might be going crazy, I mean… but I’m fine.”

“We’re all a bit mad here—” Alex very narrowly glares at her, an unimpressed look on his face at her terrible attempt at humor given the fact that they stood in a building riddled with Alice in Wonderland allusions. “Right, okay— we’re serious. Got it. What is going on?”

Honestly, Alex doesn't know where to even begin with that question. How the fuck does he explain that there is a guy out there in the bar right now. This bar. HIS bar— that he had spent one spontaneous, unexpectedly incredible day, —less than a day— with 10 years ago that he hasn’t seen or spoken to since, because he was young, and dumb, and a fucking idiot, and agreed to decide that fate was real and they were going to leave it up to the universe to bring the two of them back together?

There’s no way to make that sound less… crazy.

So that’s exactly what he says.

“Fucking hell.” Natalie is pushing a rocks glass of whiskey into Alex’s hand as she takes a seat on the coffee table, and by the look on her face, Alex can tell that she's going over it all in her head again. “Hold on— so… Hot blondie out there—”

“Yup.” Alex speaks into the glass as he takes a sip, his eyes closing for a beat.

“Professor Ken doll—”

“Profes– what? Nat!” Alex sputters at the comment, pauses the glass a few inches from his mouth as he looks at Natalie finally, his brow quirking up in both interest and question “wait...is he a professor?”

Alex is curious, okay?

“How the fuck would I know? They pretty much all are, out there,” she waves her hand in the general direction of the front of house. "It's what the rest of the crew’s been calling him all night.” He can see the amusement as it takes over her face “there's been a lot of talk about taking his class and not for the education.” Alex groans and lets himself slump back onto the couch, listening to Natalie laugh.

“Anyway, I just assumed.” Natalie’s shoulder lifts in a shrug as she allows the silence to settle between them. It was one thing that Alex was grateful for that had come from the last five years where they’d gone from coworkers to close friends, the ability to read one another. To know when enough was enough.

And when it was okay to push the other a little further.

“Soooo… you wanna talk about why you’re hiding in your office then?”

“I’m not hiding.”

“I had to threaten to break in”

“It’s not breaking in if you have a key—“

“Not the point, Alex”

So much for that, he doesn’t even have to see it to know the look of concern mixed with curiosity that is almost definitely on Natalie’s face. Alex lets the amber liquid warm his throat as he takes a lingering sip, eyes trained on the door, as if willing someone else to come through it.

“I don’t fucking know, honestly. I saw him there in front of me and,” Alex is shaking his head as he looks back at Natalie, his thumb skimming across the lip of the glass “I don't know. For as many times as I’ve thought about this actually happening—the fact that it was actually happening made it all the more unbelievable that it WAS happening.” Alex knows he's talking in circles, but he left his mind out front with the bottle of gin and a pair of blue eyes.

“It’s been 10 years.” Alex says around a sigh, his head dropping back as he looks up at the ceiling. “We knew each other for maybe 12 hours— but I can go back there like it happened yesterday. So what the fuck does that say about me?”

Sitting back up, Alex swirls the liquid in his glass around once, twice, three times before downing what was left of it, and leans forward to place the glass on the table next to where Natalie sat. Pushing himself off the couch, he walks around the edge of his desk and grabs his phone, slipping it into his pocket before grabbing his keys.

“What are you doing?” Natalie asks, speaking softly, incredulously– rising from her perch on the table.

“Going home. I wasn’t even supposed to be here tonight, you guys got this covered, yeah?” It's truly less of a question than it comes out as.

“Yeah— we can handle a couple dozen stuffy bookworms… but Alex. Seriously?” Now, she was looking at him like he was crazy, which isn't all that uncommon given his antics, but this is different. Natalie makes her way over to the door, her eyes never leaving Alex as she does so “Not for nothin’, but this sounds an awful lot like that whole fate bullshit you were spouting before. You’re not even gonna go talk to him? You’re really just gonna go?”

She isn’t wrong, exactly, but Alex has to stop the buzzing in his head, stop the rushing in his ears that tells him his mind was on overdrive, before it got too far. He needs fresh air, and a walk, and a distraction from everything else.

“Yeah. If fate or the universe or fucking Neptune in a god damn retrograde made this happen– it can do it again. Isn’t that how it works?” Probably not, but Alex needed to go. Pulling on his warm wool jacket, he pauses in front of Natalie as he reaches the door, dropping a kiss to the top of her head “I know you don’t understand, I don't think that I really do either. But I have to go. I’m sorry— and thank you… for knowing me.” he says with a smile, knowing she will understand, as he ducks his head walking towards the back exit and slipping through it.

[Unknown Number] 12:42am
I’ve lost count of how many times I’ve written and erased this message, so I apologize for how late this is coming through. Nothing I seem to come up with sounds adequate enough for this moment.
[Unknown Number] 12:44am
One of the bartenders gave me your number. Rather forcefully actually.
[Unknown Number] 12:47am
I believe her exact wording was ‘The universe did it’s fucking job already, so fuck fate. You better fucking call him.’
I hope it’s suffice that I messaged instead of called, I wasn’t sure calling would be appreciated, given the hour.

Alex 12:52am
That… sounds like natalie.
Hi henry

Henry 12:54am
Hello, Alex.

April 2015 - 08:54pm BST

“So, do you always tell your life story to strangers you meet in coffee shops?”

They’d been sitting in the outdoor area of a pub they had found for a little over an hour now, a comfortable back and forth of conversation continuing as if they were old friends just catching up. Lights were strung above them making a roof of twinkling orbs; the perfect lighting as the sun had dipped down over the horizon not too long ago.

They’d spent the afternoon with no real plan ahead of them, Alex feeling content and oddly safe in letting the blue eyes he was slowly becoming infatuated with, take the lead in where they were going and what they were doing; he was the one who lived there afterall and Alex hadn’t imagined he’d have time to go out and explore while he was here so there was no list he needed to check off. He was truly at the whim of this man he’d met only hours before– his only hope being that he wasn’t going to be murdered at the end of the night.

What a way to go, though.

“Only mouthy Americans that show up to my lectures, and then disappear after having the audacity to look like that.” He said gesturing to the whole of Alex, a pint glass in his hand.

“You saw me there?” Alex asked before he could stop himself, his brow knitting together a moment as he clarified his thought, “Like— before the end?”

“I saw you the moment I walked in this morning.”

“Oh.” He said dumbly, surprise in his voice.

The other man laughed at that, and even though it was a soft one, Alex wanted nothing more than to keep it coming, wanted to keep that sound in his head for as long as he was allowed. They were the only ones out on the patio, a chill still in the air now that the sun had left the sky; but Alex could feel warmth through his jeans from the leg pressed up against his own. They were sitting at opposite tables, on different benches but facing each other, their legs propped up on one another’s bench, lined up, the outside of both from ankle to hip pressing against the other’s.

“What? Did you honestly think the first time I saw you was when you were slipping out of the door in the back?” His hand had dropped to rest on one of Alex’s ankles, his fingers delicately tracing patterns along his calf, silently sending shivers all the way up Alex’s spine at the touch. Touches had become more bold throughout the afternoon between the two of them; a brush of fingers, a touch to the face, a palm against a hip under the guise of moving around the other.

“I guess so, I mean– I haven't really thought of it.” Bringing his pint glass to his lips, Alex took a lingering sip before continuing “I didn’t think I’d see you again, honestly— definitely didn’t think I’d spend half of an entire day with you after the fact.” He wasn’t trying to be coy, it was simply the truth, something he was oddly comfortable telling to this person “but for the record, I’m not complaining about a single part of it.” Another truth.

“You know, you never did answer me this afternoon when I asked what kept you there.” There was a tease in his voice, the same flirtatious lilt that he had been toying with all afternoon and Alex couldn’t tell if the sparkle of mischief in his eye was real or a reflection from the lights above them; he found that he didn’t quite care which it was, only that the smile that came with it needed to stay and Alex was more than willing to make sure it did.

“You.”

Alex knew that the other man was well aware at this point why he had stayed, knew exactly why Alex had so haplessly thrown his plans for the rest of the day out the window to spend it with him; but if he wanted to hear it point blank, well then Alex was going to tell him, he made him feel bold. It wasn’t that Alex held back or was shy in his normal life, not even close— but he wasn’t generally this forward with guys— or girls for that matter. Here though, in this moment, he wanted to make sure that his words held weight, left nothing to question, for fear of this all ending.

The moment, the day, whatever this was.

Finishing off the beer in his glass, his eyes found deep blue ones instantly as he looked over “Any more questions?” He asked, not daring to look away from those eyes— not that he really had a choice in the matter, he was happy to be lost in them.

“Another?” The question was accompanied by the raising of his own empty glass. Alex didn't stop the smile that pulled the edges of his lips as he silently nodded, handing over his glass and watched as the blond walked away back into the pub to get them another round. Letting his feet drop from the other bench they were propped up on, Alex reached for his phone for the first time in hours and he couldn't help but laugh seeing that it was past 9pm. He had messages that were unanswered, emails that were stacking up all on his lock screen, but Alex barely gave them a second thought as he tucked the phone back into his pocket; they weren’t important.

The last 7 hours had passed like minutes— they had roamed the city, stopped and had lunch, Alex had listened to this man tell him the history of at least a dozen different buildings and churches. Never once had there been a lull in conversation, Alex told him all about his career, his friends, his family— his parent's divorce, and all the ways he struggled to feel like enough, but not too much— in return he heard about a difficult childhood, the loss of a father and the spiral of a family so lost to even each other, and the long journey back to the man who stood in front of him. Somewhere in the middle of that story, Alex had slipped his hand into the other man’s, a quiet gesture of— not quite understanding, but of support; and it had just felt normal, like they weren’t two complete strangers spilling their every thought to one another.

This was supposed to be strange, right? Things like this didn’t happen, not like this– not to him. But Alex had stopped questioning it hours ago, he didn’t care what was supposed to be or what was considered ‘normal’. He liked this person and he wanted to get to know as much of him as possible, no matter what tomorrow looked like for them.

Alex let his eyes wander around his surroundings until they fell on a flurry of colored tabs sticking out from the satchel on the table top across from him. With the hint of a chuckle he rose from his seat and moved across the way to straddle the bench previously occupied by his company, Alex pulled the book from the bag and ran his hand over the cover. Flipping through the pages, Alex stopped at a flagged passage, his eyes followed the lines of highlighted and underlined words, flickered over to loopy cursive handwriting that seemed rushed, like he had been trying to keep up with the thoughts in his head, but also still so perfectly legible it almost made Alex roll his eyes. Of course this man wrote in a delicate script even in marking up a book.

“What are you doing?” It was almost as if Alex’s smile was now triggered by the sound of this man’s voice.

“I’ve been wanting to see your notes in this since I saw it in your hands this morning” Alex looked up as a new pint of beer was placed on the tabletop next to him and an increasingly familiar body in the space beside him, the man’s hip resting comfortably against Alex’s knee with the position he was currently in. “Where’s your pen?”

“Sorry, what? My pen?”

“Yeah, your pen– I wanna add something.”

“What makes you assume I have a pen on me?” The blue eyes were alight with a mixture of humor and confusion when Alex raised his own to meet them.

“You’re a student. Better yet, you’re a teacher—“

“I’m not a teacher.”

“—where’s the pen you grade with?” He raised an eyebrow as his lips pressed to the rim of the pint glass, and Alex’s eyes tracked down to that as well, letting them linger there a moment before raising once more, a playful sway in his voice as he continues, “Come on, sweetheart, I know you’ve got one.”

Alex was rewarded with a laugh of defeat as he produced a pen from the same satchel that Alex had slipped the book out of.<

“You are an absolute demon” he spoke as he pressed the pen into Alex’s waiting hand, the smile still playing on his lips that told Alex he didn’t truly mean a word of it. “What are you adding?”

“You’ll find out one day—” Alex mumbled around the cap that was sticking out of his mouth, having used his teeth to remove it so he could start underlining. Looking up at the man quickly, Alex—as much as he tried to play it cool— couldn't help the smile again, one that was almost instantly returned.

Fuck, that wasn’t ever going to get old, was it?

Using his hand to shield what he was writing, more out of amusement and commitment to his bit than anything else; he looked up briefly, a warm feeling flooding his chest to find himself being watched, before he flipped to a different place in the book and did the same thing. While it started as just something fun and flirtatious in a way; there was a part of Alex that reveled in the idea of leaving his mark in something for this person, something for him to remember Alex by one day when he stumbled upon the two passages he had added his thoughts to, his messy scrawl tucked in between the loops and curves of the other man's handwriting.

“There. All yours again. Don’t even think of looking at it” Alex handed the book back, waiting and watching as it was pushed reluctantly back into the satchel as he recapped the pen, leaning over to slide it into the front pocket. There was a scent on his nose as a light breeze blew around them; the lightest hint of fresh cut grass and something sweet like linen, a little earthy that Alex couldn't quite put his finger on “Fuck, you smell good.”

A laugh. A punch of bright, cheerful— if not slightly thrown off by Alex's seemingly random outburst— laughter lifted through the empty courtyard, and Alex wanted to bottle it. He never wanted to forget what it sounded like. It was becoming a pattern when it came to this man.

“I’ve never met anyone like you.” Is the response he gets and the smile still lingering on the man’s face tells Alex that it’s not in a bad way; but still—

“Good thing?”

“Unequivocally.”

Wednesday, November 12, 2025

Admittedly, Alex didn’t get much sleep after hearing from Henry. They hadn’t texted for long, but Alex now had a new number saved in his phone, and an itch under his skin to use it that he was currently trying to neutralize by keeping himself busy. Lucky for him, it was Wednesday and those came with a 7am wake up call, a boatload of coffee and a dip back into a past life he once believed was his entire future.

The perks of owning the building that Allegory resides in, is the ability to do whatever he wants with the space, when he wants to– so every Wednesday, Friday and Saturday morning from 8:30am-1:30pm, Alex opens the Library and the multi functional space on the floor above it as a free legal clinic for the Brooklyn community and its surrounding boroughs. He may not be practicing law anymore, but he’s never formally resigned from the New York State Bar and he’s kept his license up to date. He had gone into law to help people; the people who didn’t have the means or know how, the people that the system was actively working against, and he had left law because he wasn’t able to do that.

This allowed him to do that.

Alex had worked in big law for 8 years, spent the 3 years prior busting his ass, and almost killing himself in law school— in all that time, Alex had amassed a truly shocking backlog of connections in the field; to absolutely no one’s surprise.

The clinic was filled with them every week, a revolving door of lawyers and attorneys from nearly every legal discipline— Constitutional law to family law to immigration and human rights law. All there pro bono, all there to do the good that Alex wasn’t able to find when he sat in their seats, but was able to facilitate now. From the outside.

He got to do his part as well, sitting down with a few people a couple times a week, if it was particularly busy, just so someone didn't have to wait too long; Alex knew his shit, he’s never forgotten it, doesn’t think he ever will. In all honesty, he could probably step right back into that world without a second thought. He doesn’t want that though— not anymore. This was enough.

Alex is sitting on the floor in the Library, there’s not much by way of seating in there, not compared to the space upstairs, and he’s fine on the floor, happy to let Mrs Ruiz settle into the overstuffed chair as he had offered to look over the contract she brought in to get clarification on.

For the second time in less than 24 hours, Alex looks up from his work to find a familiar shade of blond in his building.

For the second time in his life, Alex feels the air leave his lungs at the sight of him.

“Henry?” Alex is already lifting himself to his feet as blue eyes meet his brown, and the resulting smile is just as devastating as he remembers.

Turning back to Mrs. Ruiz, Alex promises to be right back, the contract still in his hand as he crosses the room to where Henry is stopped just inside the doors. “What are you doing here?”

“Taking a chance—” is the response Henry gives him and Alex is— well, Alex isn’t sure what that means. His face must show it because Henry quickly adds on “You. I was looking for you; hoping I would find you here.”

“How… nevermind,” Alex has no idea what was even happening, only that he is trying incredibly hard to keep a professionally neutral look on his face even though everything in him wants to turn into a puddle of mush at just the sound of Henry’s voice. Biting the inside of his cheek, Alex nods his head towards a different set of doors at the head of the room, a motion for Henry to follow him.

Pressing a code into the door, he listens to the lock click off before opening it for Henry to go through, following right after him, fingers flicking the light panel to his left as he passes it, illuminating the main bar space of Allegory.

“I have to finish this… or find Jay and see if he’s free to take over” Alex starts as soon as Henry’s turned to look at him.

“I’m sorry, of course. I didn’t mean to pull you away, I wasn’t even sure I would even find you here. Take your time, please” He’s nervous, Alex can hear it in his voice— which was an interesting turn of events, but Alex could dwell on that later.

“I won’t be long,” he promises.

Disappearing back through those doors, Alex is true to his word as he goes to check in with Jay, the contract specialist, who had set up upstairs. After 10 minutes and a successful pass off of Mrs. Ruiz, Alex makes his way back into the main bar, listening for the lock to click into place behind him.

Instead of a contract in his hand, Alex has his coffee mug from this morning; refilled for the third time since arriving, in one hand and a new cup of brewed tea in the other as he walks further into the space, looking for Henry.

Alex finds him standing in front of one of the wall murals, he’s shed the camel-colored peacoat he had come in wearing, leaving it draped nicely over the back of one of the chairs, the burberry scarf folded neatly on top of it. Alex allows himself to take in Henry from behind, a light blue chambray button up, sleeves rolled up to his elbows from where he could see, with his hands in the front pockets of his navy blue slacks. In the low lighting Alex’s gaze travels along the outline of his shoulders, wondering how this feels both so incredibly familiar and yet so foreign at the same time.

Taking in a deep breath, Alex steps up beside Henry without a word, letting his own eyes glance over the piece of art he knew all too well.

“It’s rather unsettling, is it not?”

“Art should comfort the disturbed and disturb the comfortable” Alex quotes with a smirk, surprising himself with the quick reference. “Art should make you feel something… if it doesn’t what’s the point? Everything has a story to tell— you should know that.” Turning towards Henry, Alex offers the cup of tea to him before it goes cold “I’m almost certain nothing about this will be up to your British standards.”

Alex hides his smile behind the coffee mug, bringing it to his mouth, and watches Henry from over the rim as he takes a sip. A fleeting moment from last night, telling Natalie that fate could make them meet again if it really wanted to, flashes in front of him as he continues “but I added in a little sugar and milk, to hopefully keep you from running away.”

There’s a feeling in his chest. It wasn’t one that Alex could put words to, a tightness almost, as Henry simply shakes his head, the words “I’m not going anywhere,” forming in his perfectly practiced British drawl that morphs that tightness into something a little more soupy. “Thank you, Alex.” There’s a pause as Henry takes a sip “It’s actually– quite nice, what is it?”

“Not a fucking clue, but I was told it was good choice by Mr. Thomas whose third wife was apparently a Brit, so.”

Henry laughs as Alex shrugs a shoulder up, lips closing in around the rim of his mug again, savoring both sensations; the bitter taste on his tongue and the beautiful sound of the laugh he’s spent a decade hoping he’ll never forget.

Alex was half convinced that he was dreaming currently, that there was no way that Henry was real, standing in front of him.

“What are you doing here, Henry?” There’s a sense of wonderment in his voice, as if he’s sitting in the middle of that dream, waiting for the moment his alarm goes off and he finds out that this morning hasn’t even begun.

“I saw the bulletin for the legal clinic last night, I suppose I assumed,” Henry’s looking right at Alex as he speaks, and Alex would be lying if he said he didn’t preen at having the entirety of his attention again. “I took a gamble that you might be here.”

“No, I mean–” Alex pauses, mentally trying to find the quickest route to what he was actually trying to ask. “How? I guess? New York. Here.” And just for further clarification in case Henry’s forgotten where they had met the first time around, “On this continent.” he says succinctly, adding after a beat “in my bar”

“YOUR bar? This is yours?” The look on Henry’s face rivals the one he wore last night seeing Alex again for the first time. “I thought you were a lawyer?” The words are hesitant, Henry draws them out as if he’s trying to figure out if he’s the crazy one or not.

“I was– or, I am. Sort of.” So much has happened in the decade since they said good-bye and Alex understands how this seems like a particularly confusing turn of events, given the fact that Henry had found him helping in a legal clinic just now. As far as Alex is concerned, he can consider this payback, he still has no idea how or why Henry is even in New York.

“Sorry, so you–”

“Henry.” Alex says softly as he steps forward, reaching his hand out and letting his fingers brush gently against Henry’s forearm. For a moment Alex feels like he’s gone back in time standing underneath a streetlight, and they’re both 10 years younger. Henry’s eyes track down to where Alex’s fingers linger against his skin before raising back up.

He says it quietly when he finally responds and there’s a look on Henry’s face that Alex can’t quite place, something almost like he’s been waiting for this moment. “I’m at New York University —work at— I’m a professor. Have been for a little over a year”

“Jesus fuck–” Alex nearly chokes on the air he sucks in as his eyebrows make a valiant attempt to merge with his hairline “A year? You’ve been in New York for a year?”

“A few, actually. It’ll be three years in February.”

And Alex— well, Alex can’t help the laugh that bubbles up inside of him, doesn’t even try to stop it as it escapes, echoing into the quiet open space around them. To find out that Henry had been living, not only in the same country as him, but in the same city; for more than a couple years, working at the university that he had not one, but two different degrees from. It was a hilarious work of divine comedy, or— more fittingly, and for as much as Alex had rarely allowed himself to think about it over the last few years, an act of fate.

“Can we go back to how this bar is yours, now?” Henry’s amused in the way he’s saying it, clearly caught up in Alex’s laughter, this entire situation was absolutely insane and impossible in equal measure.

“Oh,” he says around a laugh “now that’s a long story. One that requires a hell of a lot more time than we probably have right now.” Truth be told, Alex wants to tell him everything. Every fuzzy detail, every fleeting thought that has happened over the last 10 years.

He thinks about a horrendously crinkled, coffee stained piece of paper sitting on his desk at home; one he’s folded and unfolded hundreds, if not thousands of times— full of songs found from over the years that have brought Henry to mind. Thinks about the matchbook in his bedside table, and confessions left between the pages of a book, written by a younger self unafraid to wear his feelings on his sleeve.

He remembers the fleeting moment, years ago, where he almost bought a plane ticket to London with no plan or idea of how to find him.

“I’ll tell you all about it, sweetheart; I promise.”

The name slips out, as if it’s been waiting there on the tip of Alex’s tongue for a decade, waiting to find its home again, and Alex catches the hint of a smile tick at the edges of Henry’s lips; files that away for future analysis.

“So you’re not a lawyer.”

“No.”

“But you are working at a legal clinic…”

“...yes.”

“And you can see how this might be perplexing to someone who knew you as a lawyer when he last saw you, correct?”

Just as Alex was going to respond, the door back into the Library opens and a head appears around it, “Hey, Alex— they’re asking for you upstairs, some question about the process.”

Alex is already nodding his head before the sentence is even complete, his body pivoting to address the person. “Okay, thanks— let ‘em know I'll be right there, yeah?”

A nod and nothing else before the door shuts again and Alex turns back to Henry “I want to see you again. Later— if you want to. If you can?”

“I came in search of you. Of course I want to see you” Henry says it with a boldness that borders on reckless; something Alex is all too familiar with, though it’s usually coming from himself rather than focused on him and all at once he remembers what it feels like to stand in front of Henry as he reaches for what he wants; that something being him.

It makes him flustered, makes him forget himself for the tiniest of moments. Reminds him (not that he really needs it, it never truly went away) of what had drawn him to Henry all those years ago, and how, somehow, after all this time even though they were a blip in each other’s lives, it still makes him want to follow Henry back down that rabbit hole as if they had never left Wonderland in the first place.

Fuck, he really needs to get a grip on reality, immediately.

“Okay. Awesome— I’ve got this for another couple hours and then I have some work here to do” Alex gestures to the space around them, his actual day job. “I can call you— or you can call me. Or text; whichever”

“Alex, breathe” Henry’s hand moves to the side of Alex’s face, and he lets out a breath he wasn’t aware that he was even holding. “I’ll wait for your call, or text— I’ve got office hours until 4 at the university, I can be all yours after.”

“You want me to breathe and then you say things like that, and it makes it a little more difficult,” Letting his eyes take in the copper tiled ceilings above them for a second, he stops trying to hold back the smile from his face. Motioning towards the door, Alex lets his eyes sweep over Henry fully once more, watching as he winds his scarf back around his neck and Alex can’t help the way his eyes track the movements of him pulling on his coat over his shoulders. Time looks good on you, Alex can’t help but think.

It was the simple knowledge that he gets to see Henry later is enough to keep that smile in place “I’ll walk you out”

Alex 3:29pm
You know where the Brooklyn Heights Promenade is?

Henry 3:31pm
Quite well, actually.

Alex 3:31pm
meet me there when you’re done?
the entranceway… on Remsen

Henry 3:35pm
I should be finished here shortly. How does an hour from now sound? 4:30?

Alex 3:38pm
Perfect. see you soon, H.

April 2015 - 12:47am BST

The night was coming to an end.

It wasn’t that Alex was delusional enough to think that it would last forever, but that didn’t mean he liked it any more. The minutes were ticking closer to 1 in the morning and there was something in the way they both lingered in one another’s space, an unspoken want to make time slow down, to stay in this moment they both were all too aware was going to be gone soon.

Alex was lost to the whole of this man. He had so quickly, so easily, unwound him in a way that Alex had never experienced and it felt like something he never knew he had wanted. Alex had spent so much of his life running at full speed, always jumping into the next thing and the next thing after that, fearful that if he slowed down that everything he had worked so hard for would crumble under his feet.

Today was an anomaly, it wasn’t something that Alex could explain with logic and a concise argument. He didn’t know what caused him to walk into that classroom that morning—he couldn’t explain why he felt not only a desire, but a trust in the man that had approached him in the coffee shop; so much so that there was no question to whether he wanted to spend his time with him. He wanted everything he could get from him for as long as he could get it. He didn’t know what this was, where it was going—if it would even go anywhere for that matter but for once in his life he didn’t let that uncertainty stop him.

So, here they were. Both finding reasons to push off the inevitable goodbye.

“Hey—“ The voice was soft in the darkness as Alex was pulled from his thoughts at the feeling of a hand slipping into his own, and tugging him to a stop underneath the glow of a streetlight. Turning towards the voice, Alex swayed right back into the gravity that he’d been caught in all day, allowing himself to be pulled close. “I just…”

A pause.

A hand grazing his cheek, another finding a place on his hip.

The press of lips against his own.

Oh.

Alex took all of 3 seconds to get with the program, shifted up on the balls of his feet to lean into the kiss as his fingers skimmed gently over the skin on the side of the other man’s neck until he could feel the hair at the nape thread between them. Alex opened up to the kiss instantly, though it remained soft and slow, nothing short of indulgent for the both of them as if they had all the time in the world right there on that sidewalk. To Alex, in this moment, there wasn’t anything that was going to tell him otherwise, no other thoughts in his head outside of the feeling of the tip of a tongue tracing along his lower lip and the hand that slipped around to his back, pulling their bodies flush against one another.

“Fuck,” Alex gasped, chasing Henry’s lips as they’re pulled away, feeling the hum of agreement against his own as he stole another kiss.

Alex kissed him until he couldn't any more, until his lungs were burning for air and he had to pull away. He lets his forehead fall to press against the other as he took in a shaky breath “All that, and I still don’t know your name”

The laugh that rang out between them pulled one from Alex as well, their breaths intermingling in the space between. Though he didn’t move, didn’t let an inch between them just yet. It had barely even crossed his mind until just now, that they had never formally introduced themselves to one another, they had just jumped in head first, eyes closed— not daring tempt fate by asking too much.

“Henry,” Alex opened his eyes at that, meeting crystal blue ones reflecting moonlight “my name is Henry.”

“Alex.”

”This is bloody insane… you are aware of that, right?”

“I know. But,” Alex paused, his tongue tracing over his bottom lip, the same path Henry’s had moments ago, trying to decide how he wanted to continue. “Stay with me tonight.”

The words came out before Alex had time to talk himself out of it. He wasn’t even sure that he had meant to say it out loud, but there it was, hanging in the space between them, in the silence of the night right there under the streetlight.

“I can’t,” Henry said, his eyes finding Alex’s before shaking his head “and not because I don’t want to—but because I do; more than I can even begin to explain.” He swallowed hard and Alex found his gaze trailing down his throat, following the bob of his Adam's apple before he pressed his lips together, looking back up at Henry “I don’t think I could say goodbye to you if I did.”

“Would that be such a bad thing?”

Alex wasn’t thinking rationally, he knew he wasn’t, but every instinct he had was telling him to fight for this. He knew beneath it all that this was never going to be a thing, it was never supposed to go beyond this right here; it wouldn’t work. Henry still had another year for his PhD, and Alex—Alex had his whole life and career in a whole other country, a life he had worked hard to build and he knew Henry had the same kind of ambitions, and they all resided here—in the UK, across an entire ocean, in a whole other time zone.

This wasn’t meant to go beyond this moment, Alex knew that.

Alex hated that.

“Maybe you should give me your number then… you know, just in case” Henry was warm against him where they were still flush together, and Alex could feel it through his entire body the way Henry chuckled at that; a new facet to the laugh he never wanted to forget.

“Just in case? In case of what?”

“In case of—life. Fuck, I don’t know!” Alex was pulling at straws now, but his smile was reflected on Henry’s face so he was going to take that as a win. Sobering his expression, Alex chewed on the inside of his cheek, his eyes casting a downward glance, away from Henry’s.

“What if we never see each other again?” His voice was quiet, almost a whisper, a stark difference from the exclamation of words not moments before. “What if this is the first and last time we ever meet?”

“I have to believe that this isn’t the last time. If we’re meant to be again—we’ll meet again.” The look on Henry’s face was thoughtful, though Alex had a feeling that he was saying it for himself just as much as he was saying it for Alex. “It’s just… not the right time, right now.”

Alex hated that, too.

“Another life… Another time” Alex spoke the words around a laugh, an attempt to make light of the heavy air that had settled between them, “It’s not fucking fair, all this and for what??”

There wasn’t anger in his voice, not even frustration, despite the way he was silently cursing whatever spiteful god had it out for him. But then there was a smile slowly growing on Henry’s face and Alex was curious all over again. Lifting a brow in question as their eyes met, he watched as Henry hesitated for the smallest moment

“Serendipity.” He said simply.

“Come again?!”

“Finding something beautiful completely by chance,” Henry mused, that smile growing wider as his fingers touched Alex's chin, tilting it up so that he could press a lingering kiss to his lips before speaking against them. “Serendipity.”

Alex’s eyes closed on instinct from the kiss and the rapid beating in his chest surprised even himself. He didn’t think when he had begun his day some 20 hours ago that it was going to end this way, that it was going to take everything in him to walk away from a person he just met 12 of those hours ago.

“So what now? We just—“ Alex didn’t want to say the word, his voice hitching as he took a steadying breath in, “leave? That’s it?”

“For now, it seems.” Henry’s voice trailed off as his eyes searched Alex’s, though for what he wasn’t sure.

All at once, Alex remembered a passage from the book in Henry’s bag and he nodded his head to himself as he took a small step back. If they were going to leave things up to fate, Alex was going to leave his own message right there with it.

“Let me see your book again—and the pen”

Henry looked at him now like he was crazy, and okay, it was a little abrupt but he had a reason. Alex held his hand out, fingers wiggling in a ‘gimme’ motion, and watched as Henry dug into his satchel producing the book first and then the pen on top. He wasn’t getting the pen back, but Henry didn’t need to know that. Blue eyes watched as Alex skimmed his finger along the pages, watched as they fanned over from beneath his thumb.

“Turn around.”

Looking at him through narrowed eyes, Henry slowly turned his back and Alex started flipping through chunks of pages, looking for the exact passage he wanted. It took a couple flips back and forth until Alex found what he was looking for and bit down on the cap one more time, removing it from the body of the pen before propping the book against Henry’s back, using him as a desk. Splaying his fingers against the pages to hold the book open, Alex set about underlining a few lines on the page before trying his damnedest to make his handwriting neat for this one, it was important.

It wasn’t much that he wrote, but it was enough.

Connecting the underlined words with an arrow to the ones he wrote, Alex sighed as he recapped the pen and slipped it into his own pocket. Moving around to stand in front of Henry he forced a smile onto his face, still genuine—but difficult nonetheless.

“I’m really fucking banking on the universe being on our side, sweetheart, because this is going to go down as one of the hardest things I’ve had to do. And I stand in front of a judge and jury on a near weekly basis.” Alex let out half a laugh, he was not going to cry– but it was a damn close thing. He could feel Henry’s eyes on him as he opened the bag hanging from Henry’s shoulder, slipped the book inside and closed it back up again. “I don’t think I’ll ever be able to forget you, forget this.”

Henry was quiet, but Alex could read it on his face that this was becoming just as difficult for him. Neither of them could have guessed that this is where their day together was going to take them; how could anyone have known?

This wasn’t something that happened in everyday life, to him specifically. The cruelest twist of fate being that he didn’t get to keep it—so really, it was par for the course in the life of Alex Claremont-Diaz, everything just a little too far out of reach.

“You’re mad if you think I’ll ever be able to get you out of my head. This day has been—“ Henry’s words paused as he tried to find the right one, but Alex didn’t need to wait to know how Henry felt; he’d seen it all day in the way that he spoke, the way he had allowed Alex, a stranger, even though not for one moment did it ever feel like they were strangers, to see the more vulnerable side of him. Reaching up to brush the blond strands away from Henry’s forehead, Alex let his fingers slip further back into his hair until he had enough leverage to pull him down into a searing kiss.

There was so much that Alex wanted to say, and so much more that Alex knew he couldn’t; so he pressed it into Henry’s top lip, left it in a trail along the seam of them with the tip of his tongue, asking permission without saying a word. Henry granted it and pulled Alex closer at the same time, his fingers dancing along where the hem of Alex’s shirt met the top of his jeans, brushing the skin at his waist just barely. Alex felt it all over, like Henry’s fingers were a livewire sending a shock through his system that made him clutch at the back of Henry's neck in an attempt to keep him close, to make this last.

He doesn’t know how long the kiss goes on for, just that when they finally part they’re both out of breath.

“You have to go.” Alex’s words are reluctant yet firm in the way that he takes a step back “Because, I will stand out here and kiss you until the sun comes up otherwise, and you’ve got classes in the morning and I— I've got to catch a train back to London”

Alex’s train wasn’t until the following night, but Henry didn’t know that.

“I will,” Henry steps back into Alex’s space, completely contradicting what he had just said, his hands moved to either side of his face as he kissed Alex with what felt like some kind of finality, a literal sealing with a kiss. It wasn’t as desperate as the one before, but the slide of Henry’s lips against his own was just as intense; a goodbye, yes— but also a hope that maybe it wasn’t for the last time.

Something to be remembered by.

Henry was the one who broke away this time, his hands falling to Alex’s lower back, a calm silence falling between them and Alex watched him as he finally stepped away, arms tugging away from his back, though Alex felt them still as hands trailed along his waist again. Felt his fingers catch on the front pocket of his jeans before they fell away completely, a loss Alex wasn’t ready for— didn't think he’d have ever been ready for.

“Good bye, Alex” Henry’s voice was nearly a whisper as he spoke and Alex watched as he backed away, those blue eyes finding his brown again, one last time before he turned around. Alex didn't look away though, he continued watching Henry’s figure as it disappeared from the glow of the streetlights, until it turned a corner and he was completely gone.

“Bye, Henry” He spoke into the night air, his hands slipped into the pockets of his jeans. As Alex turned to walk in the opposite direction, the fingertips inside his right pocket came in contact with something that hadn’t been there before. Catching it between his middle and forefinger, Alex extracted it from his pocket and held it out in front of him—

A white matchbook, a simple line drawing of a rabbit on the back and as Alex turned it over, his thumb brushed over the raised letters on the front that spelt out the name of the pub he still stood in front of; The White Rabbit.

Wednesday, November 12, 2025 - 4:23pm EST

“I’m not doing this with you now, Nora.”

“We’re not doing anything Alejandro– I’m simply asking a question”

They’ve gone back and forth with this no less than three times already, “and I’m simply not answering.”

“You have a date, just admit it. I know you— you forget that.” Alex removes the phone from his ear and presses the top of it to his forehead, eyes closing as he lets out a deep sigh.

He knew he shouldn’t have answered her call, he knew why she was calling, knew that June had told her he canceled their bi-weekly facetime without much of an explanation— which he didn't do. Ever. He didn’t do elusive, not with them; this is what he gets for not thinking it through before shooting off the text to June that afternoon.

“It’s not a date”

Alex all but hears her smirk from the other end of the line as she says “But it’s date adjacent.”

“I’m hanging up now.”>

“Oh, stop it. I’m just teasing. Anyone I know?”

He’s gone 10 years without having to explain that day with Henry to Nora or his sister. It wasn’t that he didn't want them to know, it wasn't that he was hiding it from them; he just didn't want them to analyze it, or analyze his feelings towards it. He didn’t want someone trying to explain it, or giving an explanation to it. There was a reason that day had stuck around in Alex’s head for so long– a reason why, even now, as he thought about the possibility of a ‘maybe Henry’ as he, for the first time in too many years, he allows himself to wonder ‘is this it? Do I finally get this?’ He didn't want an explanation for that.

‘Definitely not— and it’s not a date. It’s not… anything. I don't know. It’s complicated.”

“I live in a world of complicated Alex, my entire job is cracking codes and analyzing data. Spill”

“It’s not anything right now. He’s just—”

“A he, huh? You haven’t traveled the ‘he’ road in a minute”

His fingers were pinching the bridge of his nose as he looks up to see Henry approaching, and somehow that alone seemed to be enough to make him drop his shoulders and breathe a little easier, “I have to go, Nora. I’ll call you, I promise.” Alex was already pulling the phone from his ear and hitting the end button barely registering Nora’s protests before she was cut off, his attention focusing in on the blond now in front of him

“Girlfriend?”

The single word has something of a worried curiosity to it and Alex wants to laugh, but also wants to pull Henry close and let him know without any words at all, exactly how wrong it is.

“Nora? God, no.” An actual frown forms on Alex’s face “We tried that once when we were seventeen, and let’s just say that it didn’t take long for us to realize we weren’t meant for that kind of relationship.” He pauses, a smirk pulling at his lips as he motions for them to start walking. “She’s also with my sister now, so.”

That was usually enough to squash any further questions about his relationship with Nora, because no, it wasn’t the first or fifth time that he’s had to succinctly quell any fears of a romance there. She was his best friend, they had a comfortable and at times confusing relationship that they were both very well aware of and were known to use it to their advantage from time to time.

“I am very much unattached. Very much single—” Alex tilts his head, looking over to Henry next to him “just to put it out there.”

Huh. 10 years later, Alex wasn’t expecting to feel that level of boldness from being around Henry once again. Maybe some things haven't changed.

“Noted.” The hint of a smile that stutters softly across his lips before Henry gives into it fully is so uniquely beautiful, Alex can’t help but feel an odd sense of deja vu. It was a little like last time; so long ago and yet he could remember it like it happened just a day ago, like no time had passed at all.

The sun had started setting rapidly around them about 20 minutes ago, the downfall of daylight savings ending two weekends ago— though it made the skies glow in shades of pink and orange, the warmth in the color so brilliant that it could almost convince someone that the temperature wasn’t sitting just above freezing. The last vestiges of light left above the horizon were reflecting off the gold of Henry’s hair and it was a sight, Alex wouldn't even argue if someone were to call him out on the fact that he just let himself watch Henry for not the first time that day.

“I have a confession to make,” Henry’s voice is soft as he looks over, a hand adjusting the strap of the bag hanging from his shoulder, “I may have looked you up— now that I had a little more information to narrow down the search.”

Alex barks out a laugh at that, “narrow down the search?”

There’s a hum of admission from Henry as his gaze follows along the path ahead of them “You’ve made quite a name for yourself, Alex Claremont-Diaz”

And oh.

He wasn’t prepared to hear his whole name just like that. In that accent, causing that smile on Henry's face.

“It’s quite impressive, what you’ve built— what you’re doing. You’ve got articles written about it—about you.” Alex feels pride well up in his chest as he looks down towards the pavement below his feet, the compliment sending a new kind of zing up his spine. “I know I’m as good as a stranger to your world— but it makes sense. The legal clinic, the bar; even the bloody name.” Henry says, his hand lifting to wave through the air as if to emphasize his point.

“You’re not a stranger.” There was more to Henry’s sentence that Alex maybe should have latched onto instead, the stalkery parts, perhaps, but he found himself saying the words before even thinking about them “I don’t think you were even a stranger the day I met you.” Alex shook his head, guiding them over to the railing off to the side of the path, the lights of lower Manhattan glowing from across the East River in front of them now that the sun was all but gone.

“So, three years, huh? Where’ve you been hiding, Fox?” Henry looks at him with a raised eyebrow in surprise which only leaves Alex shrugging a shoulder up sheepishly as he slips his hands into his jacket pockets “So maybe I pulled the guest list from last night— I was curious.” So he might have done his own stalkery things.

“After you ran away from me?”

Alex lets his mouth fall open as he scoffs “Why does everyone keep saying that! I didn’t run away exactly, I panicked.” He definitely ran away. “I also wasn’t entirely convinced that I wasn’t hallucinating the whole thing” Alex admits, his voice dropping as he shifts against the railing, his body facing toward Henry’s.

“And now?” Henry’s fingers raise to brush along Alex’s cheekbone gently before moving up and brushing an errant curl from his forehead.

“Now, what?”

Henry grins down at Alex as he lets his fingers linger on his skin, “do you believe that you are hallucinating?”

“I really fucking hope not.” Alex says, feeling his entire chest seem to pull tight with the words and the way Henry was stepping closer to him.

‘‘Is it crazy to say that I’ve missed you?”

The thing is, it wasn’t crazy. It hadn’t been crazy 10 years ago when Alex felt something pull him into Henry’s orbit from the back of a lecture hall. It hadn’t been crazy sitting across from him for hours underneath a ceiling of strung up lights talking about everything— and nothing— and still wanting to know more. It hadn’t been crazy kissing him goodbye underneath the glow of a streetlight at 2 in the morning, like he was leaving the love of his life.

Maybe he had been.

Leaving things up to fate, on the other hand— that had been crazy. Alex has admitted that to himself more than a few times over the years. He couldn’t help but thank it now, though.

Alex is leaning up to kiss Henry before he even realizes it, one of his hands holding tight to the lapel of his coat, the other palm flat against his chest as he feels Henry’s fingers trace along the line of his jaw until they are threading into his hair.

The kiss is sweet, a little slow— almost tentative at first, and Alex feels Henry smile into it; it is all he needs to press his own smile into the kiss before he pulls back, grinning at the groan of disapproval from Henry at the loss.

“Not crazy” Alex says into the space between them “I don’t know how to explain it, haven’t been able to figure it out in the last 10 years… but I’ve missed you too.” It is the most honest Alex has been with himself in years, since making the decision to leave law, to leave the entire life he’d made for himself.

Henry’s hand that isn’t still entangled in his hair moves to slip itself into where Alex’s coat hung open, winding around his waist and pulling Alex closer, the familiarity of the move causing Alex’s breath to catch as he meets Henry’s gaze.

“I’m going to kiss you now— again. You’ve got that look from last night, like you might not be thinking this is real, and I’d very much like to dispel that this time,” and so he does, though Alex can’t really say it does anything to make him believe it is any more real than before; he felt outside of his body.

Kissing Henry is— surreal. Alex has spent years convincing himself that he’s imagined how good it felt, has kissed more than a few people trying to find something to compare it to, something to surpass it. He’s spent almost half a decade in love with someone that, in hindsight, never stood a chance; which he felt like shit even thinking that, but it was the truth ,and Kate deserved better than that.

“Ask me.” Abruptly, Henry pulls back, his tongue darting between his parted lips, wetting them.

Alex is… confused. And thrown off. His brain needed a moment to reboot, let alone process what Henry is saying. “Huh?” It’s truly the best he can do right now.

Henry looks at him pointedly for a second before he stifles a bit of a laugh and removes his hands from Alex’s body— and it takes everything in Alex not to whine at the loss. He watches with a furrowed brow as Henry rifles through his bag, finally removing a hauntingly familiar paperback. He watches as Henry flips through the pages, finding exactly what he was looking for without having to really look for it at all. Like he just knew— like he’s found it a million times before.

“Ask me.” he repeats, deep blue eyes boring into Alex’s; hopeful as he presses the open book into Alex’s hand.

Staring at the page, at the worn in dog eared edge of the page and then to his own handwriting, of which, unfortunately, has not improved in the last decade. Alex reads what he had left there for Henry, his rebellion against the idea of fate at the time. Looking back up, he finds that Henry's gaze hasn't wavered, softened slightly, but still there— waiting, hoping; and Alex doesn't even try to fight the smile this time

“Stay with me” Alex asks Henry for the second time in his life; less of a whim this time, less of a gamble, but meaning it just as much as he had the first time. Wanting it even more.

Henry’s nodding before Alex even finishes those three words “Christ, yes” he says almost like he’s been waiting to say it for years.

Maybe he has been.

Thursday, November 13, 2025 - 7:42am EST

Alex doesn’t know the last time he saw a morning that wasn’t ushered in by the blaring of an alarm telling him he was going to be late for something if he didn’t get moving.

Doesn’t know the last time he woke up fully naked in his own bed.

Really doesn’t know the last time he woke up with someone in his bed, someone pressed to his back, an arm draped heavy around his middle. Alex smiles into the feeling that blooms in his chest and allows himself to curl deeper into the surround of Henry.

He still can’t believe they are here. That Henry had walked into his bar, had been living in his city for years and it was now that their paths have finally crossed, or at least that they have finally noticed. What-ifs begin to form in Alex’s mind all too quickly; What if they’d run into each other sooner, what if it hadn’t been the right time again, would they have still gotten now?

They had spent a good portion of the night last night, after Alex had cooked them dinner and pushed Henry up against the panty door to kiss him breathless— not particularly in that order; out on the terrace wrapped in blankets filling each other in on their lives. Alex got to tell him how he’d become a non-lawyer lawyer who owned a cocktail bar, and he learned that Henry was also living in Brooklyn, in the Park Slope neighborhood that Alex had laughed at, because it made entirely too much sense.

They were so close to each other for years and they had no idea. What if they had just run into each other sooner.

“It’s entirely too early for you to be thinking that hard, love.” There is a kiss pressed to the back of his neck as Alex feels Henry’s legs twine with his beneath the down comforter. He isn’t ready for the low gravel of Henry’s sleep-heavy voice twisting in that accent and can only respond with a soft hum, all other words completely lost on him.

Alex takes the moment, knowing that Henry is at least partially awake, to turn in his embrace. Letting their legs tangle back together, his lips press to the center of Henry’s chest, lingering there for a moment before letting his forehead press to Henry’s collarbone, closing his eyes as Henry adjusted his arms around Alex, clearly just as content to stay the way they are for a little while longer.

“How is it possible that the rest of your body gives off so much heat, but your feet are fucking icicles?” Alex mumbles against Henry’s chest and all he feels is the rumble of a laugh before he lets out a yelp at the feeling of two freezing cold feet against his shin.

He doesn't move away though, and doesn't dare push Henry away either. He’ll happily deal with the freezing feet if he gets this too.

Sleep threatens to pull him back under as he feels Henry press a kiss into what is undoubtedly a disaster of curls, a muffled “good morning” spoken and Alex might actually die of happiness.

That is until Henry abandons him.

Which– rude. It’s November, mornings are bitter even in the best of heated homes.

He still watches as Henry pulls on the black boxer briefs that Alex had tossed over his shoulder the night before without a care in the world where they fell; his sole focus having been Henry in his bed and his need to get his mouth on him. Both huge successes.

He watches in silence as he shuffles into the ensuite bathroom, a hand running through his mess of golden hair and Alex has to stop himself from burrowing back into the sea of blankets until Henry finds his way back to bed.

Instead, Alex slides out of bed as well, pulling on his own abandoned sweatpants before making his way to the kitchen, making himself a cup of coffee, tea for Henry— mentally thanking June for threatening to disown him if he didn’t have it whenever she was in town to visit.

Alex drinks down half a cup of coffee as he waits for the tea to steep, refilling his mug before making his way back to the bedroom, a smile spreading across his face seeing Henry back in the bed; a sight he is more than happy to get used to.

Kneeling on the bed, Alex presses the mug of tea into Henry's hand, though doesn’t let go right away, he leans in and steals a kiss, unable to help the way he is smiling into it. “Good morning” he speaks against Henry’s lips, accepting the press of a kiss he receives in return.

“Thank you, I was just about to come find you”

“Baby, I just got you in my bed, you’re crazy if you think I’m letting you out of it any time soon.” Alex sees the pause, the way Henry looks like he’s about to say something but instead just brings the tea to his lips, holding it there as if trying to hide his smile, hide the pink in his cheeks, and the way it blooms on the tips of his ears.

Oh, Alex likes that entirely too much.

“I have something to show you…” Alex says after he has climbed fully back into the bed, under the comforter— another half mug of coffee gone. Leaning over to his bedside table, Alex deposits the coffee for the moment before opening the drawer and reaching into it, pulling out something small. “I’m pretty sure this was your doing?”

Opening his hand and holding it out to Henry, in the center of his palm is the matchbook, face down with the single line drawing of a rabbit still clear as day. The edges are worn and he isn’t entirely sure that a match would be able to strike from the strip on the back anymore, but for all intents and purposes, it is still the same matchbook Alex found in his pocket after Henry left that night.

“You kept it?” Henry’s fingers brush Alex’s skin as he picks it up, holding it delicately between his fingers, flipping it over and running his thumb over the raised letters, much in the same way that Alex tends to do whenever he finds himself with the desire to visit the past.

Alex nods his head, bracing himself for the honest truth that was coming next, that he hasn’t ever allowed himself to say out loud before.

“You’ve kind of always been there in the back of my mind, consciously or not– always been there telling me to wait.” His very own white rabbit telling him that he isn’t too late, not yet; he isn’t missing this life changing thing. Forever isn’t simply just one second— but in one second in time, he had found the forever that he wanted. It may have taken a decade for it to return, but here it was— right in front of him. He wasn’t late, and he wasn’t letting it go this time.

“No waiting,” Henry says softly, shifting back over into Alex’s space, leaning over him to place the matchbook on the bedside table and letting his lips skim the top of Alex’s bare shoulder “not any more,”

“You think we beat the fates?”

“I think the universe and the fates and all the other mythical gods you want to call upon have conspired for this, and I’m not amenable to tempting their displeasure in saying we beat any one of them.” Henry’s lips start trailing up the length of Alex’s neck and along his jaw with every word he’s saying until he is hovering over him, pressing a chaste kiss to Alex’s lips.

“No more fate. No more universe intervention” Alex murmurs against Henry’s lips, his head nodding up just slightly, their noses brushing as Alex kisses him a little harder, catching Henry’s bottom lip between his teeth as he pulls away gently. His hand finds its way to Henry’s jaw, cupping it softly as the pad of his thumb smooths over that bottom lip, following the curve of his mouth, and Alex watches as Henry purses his lips to press a kiss to his thumb.

“Just you and me” Alex continues, surprising even himself at the softness of it, his hand slipping to the back of Henry’s neck, fingers tangling in the baby hairs at the nape.

“You and me.” Henry responds as their eyes catch and somehow, even with 10 years between them, it’s as if it were only just a second.

And Alex knows.

This is what his forever feels like.