Chapter Text
Henry liked school and he was good at it. He excelled in all his classes, got praise from every teacher, and never skipped a lesson. He took pride in being a good student and working hard. Being so focused on school meant he didn’t have time for other things most people deemed important; most notably he wasn’t very popular, quite the opposite actually. He had one friend — whom he met in boarding school— Percy Okonjo, Pez as everyone knew him. Pez was outgoing and bold, a stark contrast next to Henry’s shy personality, but they do say opposites attract.
“Henry, darling, you must come to this party on Friday, everyone will be there,” Pez says in a singsong tone as he sits down at the cafeteria table Henry is at, unaccompanied as usual.
“Pez, it's Monday. And I already said no. I do not want to rub shoulders with the fraternity bros.” Henry retorts pointedly.
“You weren’t saying that last we-” Pez splutters, cut off by Henrys hand over his mouth.
“That’s enough. I’m not going,” Henry emphasizes, rolling his eyes severely. “You’ll be fine by yourself.”
“I need you Hen, come on it’ll be fun!” Pez tries joyfully. “You know who will be there,” Pez says suggestively with a wink.
“Ugh, okay, I’ll think about it if you shut up right now,” Henry sighs. Pez whoops making Henry roll his eyes again.
They talk and eat their lunch; Pez goes on about the party and how fun it’ll be, making Henry promptly groan.
“It’s Liams party. It’ll be the best party of the year, like I said everyone will be there,” Pez says, beaming.
Liams parties were always the talk on campus, held at the fraternity house just across from the college. Pez wasn’t lying, everyone showed up to these parties because everyone knew Liam, the president of the fraternity. The parties were always loud and rowdy, definitely not Henry’s ideal Friday. It would more likely be him tucked into bed reading Pride and Prejudice until he fell asleep, not giving a single thought to what was happening across the road. Pez would do this often, try and drag him to parties, gatherings or bars. It was his scene not Henry’s but nonetheless out went both of them, dread filling Henrys chest every time.
“You might even get laid,” Pez says with a wink directed right to Henry. Henry groans, louder this time, placing his head in his hands, making Pez laugh.
“I’m going to class, see you later,” Henry says, rushing to stand up.
“Bye darling,” Pez chuckles.
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The walk from the cafeteria to his English Lit class was far — across campus — which he didn’t mind all that much. A walk allowed him to think more about the party, which he knew Pez wouldn’t let up on, and he would ultimately have to attend. His peaceful Friday night plans interrupted by a group of sweaty twenty-something year olds packed into a frat house, how fun. As he walked down the corridor, Henry always kept his head down, avoiding awkward eye contact with anyone, especially the fraternity bros. He could hear some of their voices as they exited the classrooms, which made him walk faster and his eyes burn into the linoleum floors.
“Oof,” Henry breathes, feeling someone shove past him. He blinks his eyes and finds himself on the scuffed floor, the books he was holding strewn in front of him. He looks up slowly, taking in the person in front of him. As his line of sight reaches the person's face, he gasps. Alexander Claremont-Diaz. Alex, with that smug smirk on his face and his calloused hand reaching towards Henry. Wait, his hand is reaching towards Henry?
“You should watch where you're going, sweetheart,” Alex drawls, grasping Henrys hand with his own, pulling him up. “Be careful next time,” he huffs, glancing around and throwing Henrys hand down.
Henry feels as though he can’t breathe. He picks up his books and scurries to his class at the end of the corridor without taking another glance back.
Once he reaches the classroom, he lets out a breath with a large sigh. Did that really just happen? Alexander Claremont Diaz. His feelings towards Alex are complicated. He knows Alex hates him, and deep down he hates him too. He’s popular and athletic and hot — all things Henry wishes he was — opposing Henrys shy and unfit disposition. Captain of the lacrosse team and copresident of the fraternity Alex is respected by everybody, and sometimes Henry wonders why. He is standoffish, rude, and doesn't even take a second glance at people that aren't in the same league as him. He thinks he’s better than everyone, and he doesn’t know how other people don’t see that. On the other hand, Henry has had a slight crush on Alex for a year now. A small crush that means nothing. Alex and Henry have had the briefest of brief encounters that Henry has held onto like how Alex held his hand: short-lived but memorable. Like that one time in debate class — in an unusual moment of Henry speaking up — they clashed over a political issue. Or that time when they accidentally locked eyes during one of Alexs lacrosse games that Pez somehow dragged him to. Or just now when Alex held his hand and called him sweetheart in the school corridor.
Henrys breathing quickened as he sits down, his thoughts only being taken up by Alex. Alex and his rough hands. Alex and his glowing bronze skin. Alex and his deep brown eyes. Alex and his strong arms. God Henry was so screwed.
For the rest of the class, his attention was not focused on what the professor was talking about. He certainly couldn't focus after what had just happened. He wondered how Alex really felt about him. He surely hated him, but why could he never look Henry in the eyes? But why did he call him sweetheart? But why did he throw his hand down? But why did he help him up? But, but, but. Henry feels as though he has done a lifetime of thinking in just a couple of hours as he exits the classroom, finally.
When he makes it back to his room, Pez is already there, sitting on his bed, painting his nails.
“Hey babe, you look exhausted, are you alright?” Pez asks sincerely.
“Uh, yeah. Class was just tiring today,” Henry lies, throwing his books on his bed — opposite Pez’s — as well as himself, laying down.
“No, something’s up. What is it, Hen?” Pez stops what he’s doing and leans in, concentrated and eager to listen.
“Fine. I ran into Alex in the corridor on the way to class. He knocked me over, helped me up and walked away all in a couple of seconds,” Henry exclaims, sitting up on the bed.
“And let me guess, it was all too much for your little gay brain to comprehend?” Pez laughs. Henry groans loudly, throwing himself back to lay down on the bed again.
“It’s not funny, Pez. He’s rude, he’s straight and he hates me. It couldn’t get any worse,” Henry rants, annoyed.
“You don’t know if he’s straight. Maybe if you actually talked to him instead of glaring at him all day, you would know more about him,” Pez jests, a hint of a giggle in his voice.
“You’re joking, right? No, not going to happen,” Henry refuses, shaking his head.
Pez laughs loudly and comes to sit beside Henry. “Let’s order some food and you can talk to me instead,” Pez says, comfortingly.
The rest of the afternoon is spent in bed, with takeout and Henry telling Pez everything in detail. Every thought, every moment and every worry. And of course, Pez would console him and validate his feelings. Thank God for Pez.
Later that night, as sleep washed over Henry, one of his last waking thoughts travelled to the weight of Alex’s hand in his. The only thing he could picture was Alex. He tossed and turned before finally falling asleep, the word sweetheart echoing in his mind.