Work Text:
Henry's phone buzzed over on the kitchen counter, pulling his focus away from the painting he was working on—a whale shark, commissioned by a marine biologist in Florida—and back into the real world. He tended to draw land animals more than creatures of the sea, but he appreciated the challenge in different textures and tones of color. Plus, it was another thing Sam had photographed at one point. While he could always pull references from various photos on Google, Henry appreciated his partner's photos as references the most. There was something about the way the other man saw the world, the creatures around them, and how he composed his pictures—it appealed to him, and it inspired him.
Sitting straight, his back made a loud cracking noise to remind him just how long he had been hunched over their shared desk by the window. It was hard for him to stop once he got into the groove of things, so the break was probably long overdue. He took one more glance at the painting once he had gotten up from his chair—Sam would appreciate how far he'd gotten while he was at the office. Some more details around the mouth, some adjustments to the spots—it would be ready for shipping in good time before their next trip.
>Us :)<
Henry smiled at the simple message from his partner, accompanied by a picture of two pigeons huddled together under a bench in the crisp autumn air, one preening the others' feathers.
>Us!< he replied quickly, taking a second to zoom in on it before firing off another text. >I’m the one on the left, you’re the one on the right.<
Silly, perhaps, but these little texts reminded him that he was always on Sam's mind, just like Sam was always on his. It was hard to imagine that they had ever been apart, knowing how they were together now. They didn't even have to speak to know what the other wanted, moving together in tandem around each other in the kitchen while making dinner or their hands always seeking each other when they were out in the world, not wanting to be apart for even a moment longer than they strictly had to be. But why would they ever miss the chance to hear each other's voices? Whether it was to express their love for each other or discuss the finer points of bird migration patterns—Henry always wanted to know what was on Sam's mind.
His phone buzzed again, and Henry smiled softly at the response.
>True :)<
>Home soon?<
>Just about to reach the subway station. See you in 10 ❤️<
Henry nodded to himself, set the phone down and took his wrist brace off. Time to get started on dinner.
Their kitchen wasn't exactly the biggest of spaces—much in line with the size of the rest of the apartment—but compared to other living spaces in New York City, Henry figured he had to be grateful they had one at all, and not just a microwave stacked over a sink. While he wasn't the most skilled cook, he thought it was a complete waste of money to have take-out for every meal of the day. Plus, they were saving up for a potential house, and he would eat a dozen homemade pasta meals for the chance at moving out of the city, no matter how grateful he was to be there and not stuck in his sad apartment in Phoenix. He was very happy that Sam felt the same, both excited to be closer to nature while still having easy access to the big city and Sunday dinners at Tom's place. It would be theirs, their place to shape the rest of their future together, with space for pets and maybe even kids, eventually.
"Would you ever want kids, Henry?"
The question from Sam wasn't entirely surprising, as they brushed their teeth together in the bathroom, elbows knocking together occasionally. They had gotten back from dinner at Tom's just a few hours ago, where Henry had ran around in the backyard with Tom's three children—Sam's nephews and nieces—pretending to be a T-rex chasing them down and getting some energy out before they would gather around the table. The delighted screams and laughter always made his day that much better. He had glanced over at Sam after releasing Suzy—having just lifted her up and enthusiastically pretended to bite her leg, only to receive some well-deserved kicks in the chest in response so she could continue running—and was met with an adoring look from him.
Kids. He'd be lying if he said he hadn't thought about it. But the thought of raising children of his own had terrified him enough to never consider it seriously. Who was he to think he'd be any better than his own parents? Would he be able to raise them to be decent human beings, despite not being one himself? Would he be able to not raise his voice—and hand—when they threw a tantrum, or did something that angered him? For the first time in a long time, Henry considered the question carefully. Sam spat his toothpaste into the sink and rinsed off his toothbrush, knowing he had to wait patiently for a response. And as their eyes met in the mirror, Henry knew his answer.
"Us together? Yes."
He could do it, and he would. With Sam. Us.
He went over to the fridge to start pulling out the ingredients for dinner, noting the sad lack of parmesan for their pasta tonight. Right—groceries. Tomorrow. They'd write a list after dinner, then probably throw on a documentary—Henry had seen a new one about gay penguins while absentmindedly scrolling the other day—us, us, us—and cuddle up on the couch. The perfect evening. Maybe he'd offer Sam a massage in the bathtub after, to really finish off the day on a good note.
Finding the ingredients they needed, he put them on the counter before making his way towards the front door, having a feeling that Sam would be there any minute. He heard a familiar set of keys jingle out in the hallway, followed by the telltale smack of them hitting the floor, and Henry smiled. That would be his man. He swung the front door open carefully a few seconds later, seeing Sam's outstretched hand holding the keys, and smiled warmly.
"Hi, darlin'," he said, met with a gentle kiss from his love.
"Hi, honey," Sam said in a similarly soft tone, and a warm feeling surged in Henry's chest. All was right in the world when they were together. Soulmates, some of their friends had called them—Henry couldn't help but agree, feeling how his entire being calmed with Sam's presence.
Another kiss, and Henry cupped Sam's cheek gently in his hand before letting him into the apartment properly, getting him out of his coat. Dinner could wait a few minutes longer, he thought, as they shared another searing kiss and their bodies moved closer, Sam letting out a soft sigh against his lips when Henry pressed him up against the door they had just closed. Once again, their bodies moved in tandem, not wanting to be apart for even a moment.
Us together. Us. Us. Us.