Work Text:
I fell straight
Into your arms
Like a drunk
Who's been on it
All morning
“Cut!” the director shouts.
Alex exhales heavily. It’s another take of the same scene where he reaches for George, who brushes his hand away awkwardly before turning back to arrange the pieces of the puzzle they’re making. Or rather, the puzzle that Gabriel, Alex’s character, insists they finish together despite George’s indifference.
He looks up at Henry, his co-star playing George, and finds him pressing the heel of his palm against his chest and breathing slowly as if he’s trying hard to pull oxygen into his lungs.
Alex unclenches his jaw and lets out another sigh. “Fuck, this is heavy.”
Henry squeezes his eyes and mutters drily, “That’s an understatement.”
They’ve been shooting for three days already, and it’s been nothing but the heavy scenes – the quiet ones, the restrained ones, the painful ones. Every few takes, the director calls out reminders.
“Gabriel, you can’t touch George.”
“George, no, you are forgetting him. Less yearning in the eyes.”
As if they need the constant reminder of how painful it is for their characters.
To say it has been hard would be an understatement. It sucks that their director insisted on shooting the sad scenes first. Honestly, Alex thinks it’s cruel to do it this way. He may be new to acting, but even he knows that, especially in a romance film, it’s better to establish rapport between your leads first. Give them time to settle into each other and build a connection, a rhythm, chemistry, before asking them to break.
Yes, they had a full week of workshops prior to shooting. Time to get to know each other, build trust, ease into their characters, and get on the same page about the story – a virus that targets different parts of the body: Gabriel’s eyes and George’s legs, meeting in the facility where they are quarantined, falling in love amidst medication and waiting for the cure. And then inexplicably, George’s brain gets affected as well, and he loses his memories.
But instead of easing into it and letting them find the love first, they were dropped straight into shooting the saddest parts of the film – the forgetting, the distance, the angst at its highest point.
Though, Alex supposes, that might be generous. The film is angsty after all.
“Okay,” the director says after reviewing the last take, pulling Alex out of his thoughts. “One more time.”
Alex swallows hard, and Henry visibly flinches.
They reset again.
“Remember, George, you have to look at him like you don’t remember him. Like a stranger.”
Henry closes his eyes, jaw tightening. When he opens them again, Alex doesn’t even need to fake the hurt on Gabriel’s face. He lets it sit there, raw and unguarded, and he acts out the scene – wordlessly begging George to remember him by repeating the small things they used to do together.
When pack-up is finally called for the day, Henry offers him a weak smile and turns away sluggishly.
Alex’s chest aches, an echo of Gabriel’s longing every time George walks away without recognition.
“Hey,” Alex calls before he can think it through. He reaches out instinctively and rests a hand on Henry’s shoulder.
The contact feels almost shocking. To finally have a physical connection after three days of being told he cannot touch. Of standing close, just looking at George sadly and longingly, while forcing a smile as he engages him in a one-sided conversation or a silent activity.
Henry freezes, clearly startled, but then his shoulders relax as he turns back to face Alex. The look on his face is stark relief, and Alex thinks he understands.
Alex tentatively drops his hand from his shoulder to his arm, and it feels like victory that no one stops him; no one says cut.
Henry’s entire body visibly relaxes by the second.
“It’s hard for you, too?” Alex asks.
Henry grimaces. “Clearly. It feels… heavy. The repression.”
Alex nods, although he’s wondering why Henry, who just has to sit or stand there emotionlessly, feels that way too.
“Looking at you, when your smile doesn’t reach your eyes,” Henry continues, answering Alex’s unanswered question while gritting his teeth. “Tears clinging in your lashes, the obvious pain in your expression… And not being able to have any release. I just look at you like I don’t know you. No feelings, no reaction, not even a scene where I get to shout, or fight, or cry, or let any of it out. Nothing.”
Henry lets out a shaky breath and looks down.
Alex lets his hand slide further down to Henry’s hand and squeezes it. Henry looks up then and gives him another weak smile.
Enough of this, Alex thinks. They’ve been so down for the past three days. He tugs gently, urging them forward.
“Yeah, these scenes are eating away your sense of humor. Where’s the argumentative Brit I was with during workshops?” Alex teases, attempting to lighten up the mood.
Irritation flashes across Henry’s face, quick and familiar. Alex grins in triumph.
“I was not argumentative.”
“Combative, then? Belligerent?”
Henry huffs. “If anyone here is belligerent, it’s you. Always looking for a debate with anyone who has a different opinion.”
Alex laughs, glad to see a glimpse of the Henry he enjoyed getting to know during workshops before they started shooting.
Henry’s lips quirk up a little. “It’s nice to see you laugh again like that.”
That sobers Alex up. Yeah, the character bleed has been weighing him down, and he’s been subdued even between takes.
He sighs. “How about we grab dinner together? Instead of just going back to our rooms and stewing in our characters’ misery alone.”
Henry’s expression brightens even more. “I can’t believe I’m saying this, but that sounds like a great idea.”
Alex smiles. It’s the first time in three days that the weight feels… shared.
***
Dinner is, for lack of a better term, relaxing.
Alex watches in amusement as Henry eats with deliberate neatness and impeccable manners as if they’re in a formal restaurant instead of a hole-in-the-wall 24-hour diner they found several blocks away from the crew’s rented apartments.
Henry, for his part, has been patiently listening to Alex yap for a few minutes now.
“So,” Alex finishes, scraping another spoonful from his plate, “that's what made me finally try acting.”
“You make transitioning from modelling to acting sound so easy.” Henry shakes his head, smiling in a way Alex dares assume is fond. “Why does it not surprise me that you took on a role out of sheer spite for a music video?”
“What can I say? Pettiness is a powerful motivator.” Alex says with a shrug.
Henry laughs, warm and unguarded, and something in Alex loosens at the sound. He hadn’t realized how badly he’d needed this – a table between them, subpar food, conversation, laughter.
“So, you saw a music video when you were a kid, and it offended you so much that, years later, when a novel inspired by it was adapted into a film, you decided to audition, despite repeatedly turning down acting offers before.” Henry says, still smiling.
Alex snorts. “It didn’t offend me. It was beautiful and devastating. I just…” he hesitates.
Henry’s eyebrows lift, intrigued.
“I hated the ending. It was all repression and yearning and no payoff,” Alex continues, frowning. “Two people trapped in a place they can’t escape, and then one of them just forgets. And then that’s it, roll credits. It felt so unfair.”
“And you took that personally.”
“I took it creatively,” Alex corrects. “When the book came out years ago, I felt like someone finally understood what the video refused to give them. Like justice was finally given to that guy who kept trying to reclaim a love he shouldn’t have lost in the first place.”
He exhales, suddenly feeling a bit weird about oversharing. He knows he’s too invested, too intense. Too much.
“Auditioning for this felt like answering that call for justice. Even if I had to prove I belonged here first.”
Henry studies him for a moment, something thoughtful and unreadable crossing his face. “You do belong here, Alex. Believe me. I’ve worked with a lot of actors. Talent is one thing. But this? Caring this much about a story, about what it owes its characters? That’s different.”
Alex looks up at those beautiful blue eyes.
Henry smiles and continues. “I really admire your passion. During workshops, I thought it was just because this was your first acting job. You know, wanting to prove yourself and not yet jaded by the industry. But now I see it isn’t that at all. You’re passionate because the story really matters to you. You just… really care deeply.”
Alex feels his heart skip a beat.
“Hey,” Alex says with a playful frown, trying for levity. “I didn’t invite you to dinner to be psychoanalyzed like this.”
Henry chuckles, and Alex shoves food into his mouth to hide the weird feeling in his chest.
It’s unexpected. He feels oddly seen and understood by someone he just met two weeks ago.
***
I cocoon
'Round your shoulders
When you're half-cut
And you're frozen
And you've got that visible breathing
You're depending on me again
The next day is worse.
They’re shooting the scene where Gabriel finally breaks – where he starts facing the fact that George may never get his memories back. George hasn’t spoken in days now. He only stares, wide-eyed and overwhelmed, shrinking further each time Gabriel steps too close. The staff intervenes, and they tell Gabriel to stop harassing George, and that they may need to limit Gabriel’s access to George if he continues being like this.
Obviously, Gabriel snaps.
“You can’t do that! I love him! He loves me! You can’t keep us away from each other!” he shouts, voice cracking as tears spill freely. “How will he remember me then? I just need more time. He will remember me. He will… he will…” and sobs as he breaks down to the floor.
George only looks at him. Blank, unrecognizing, nothing there at all. Even looking relieved that the medical staff are restraining Gabriel.
“Cut!”
Two takes in, and Alex is a distraught mess. His throat burns, his chest hurts, and his hands won’t stop shaking. He can feel the grief clinging to him, heavy and invasive. This is his first acting job, and he can’t tell where Gabriel ends and where he begins anymore.
Henry looks just as wrecked. He approaches slowly, carefully, like Alex might spook if he moves too fast.
“Alex, I–” he starts, then stops. He takes a shaky breath, then swallows. “C-can I hug you?”
Alex looks up at him with bloodshot eyes, his chin trembling. He can’t trust his voice, so he just nods.
Henry wraps his arms around Alex’s shoulders, firm and steady, and the sound that breaks out of Alex is somewhere between a sob and a whimper. He melts into the embrace, forehead dropping against Henry’s shoulder as everything he’s been holding back finally gives way.
Alex feels Henry relax into it too, like he’s been waiting for this just as desperately – for release, for something, anything, after hours of restraint and silence and looking without feeling.
Henry tightens his hold, and being covered by those broad shoulders settles something in Alex. For the first time since they started shooting, Alex doesn’t feel like he’s losing his mind.
They stay like that until the director calls for another take.
Alex looks up at Henry, and Henry gives him a soft smile. Alex feels marginally better.
The next take is finally the last for that scene. And like magnets, as soon as the director yells cut, Henry drops his emotionless face and walks straight toward Alex. Alex meets him halfway, and they embrace again, Henry letting out a relieved sigh.
Alex doesn’t know how long they stayed like that. He only knows it feels grounding.
“Thank you,” he tells Henry. “I needed that.”
“I needed that too,” Henry answers softly.
And that’s how it becomes a ritual. Hugging after every scene, staying close to each other while waiting for the staff to reset the scene, a hand on the small of the back, shoulders brushing, hands lingering a second longer than necessary when they’re on breaks.
They also have dinner every night without fail and go to the gym together in the morning.
On their first day off, they hang out with the other cast and crew. Or more like Henry tags along with Alex. Alex thrives in social interactions, and he’d honestly expected Henry, introvert that he is, to endure it at best. He doesn’t want to make him uncomfortable, but surprisingly, Henry looks like he’s having fun. Even when Alex purposefully teases and needles him to rile him up enough that he’d throw his sharp humor and witty banter back at Alex.
On their second day off, they explore the neighborhood with a few castmates. Or, well, wherever they can go for a drive that’s at least not more than an hour away.
“I’m surprised there’s a museum out here,” Henry says. “In the middle of… well, nowhere.”
“Hey!” Alex says, affronted. “That’s mean. I grew up in Texas. States here in the Midwest aren’t all dull.”
Henry chuckles. “There it is. I was beginning to think you’d forgotten how to talk. You’ve been buried in that pamphlet.”
Alex narrows his eyes. “As if you didn’t spend a full twenty minutes reading the information board out front. And did I bother you about it?”
Henry rolls his eyes.
Alex is, of course, just being a little shit. He knows Henry enjoys museums. Henry’s mentioned more than once that he doesn’t go out frequently when he’s home in London, but when he does, most of those outings are to museums.
“I’m sure this is very different from museums in London, though?” Alex asks.
Henry hums. “Not really. They all have the same sort of vibe, you know?”
“What, quiet? Boring?”
“No,” Henry says, mildly offended. “Like... quietly alive. As if the history of everything that’s here has its own pulse. I find that so fascinating.”
Alex doesn’t know what to say to that. Henry is fascinating.
Henry glances at him and chuckles. “Sorry, I’m being such a nerd.”
“No, it’s cute,” Alex says without thinking.
Henry‘s ears turn red, and Alex feels flutters in his stomach at the sight.
“D-do you not go to museums in New York?” Henry asks, recovering. “I’ve visited a few whenever I’m there.”
Alex’s eyebrows shoot up. “Big-shot actor like you can just roam around museums in New York?”
“There’s such a thing as a disguise, Alex,” Henry says dryly. “Besides, people in New York care even less than they do in London. They mind their own business. I like it there.”
Alex hums. “That reminds me of something I wanted to ask. Why haven’t you moved to LA? I mean, with Hollywood and all.”
Henry shrugs. “Well, most of my projects are in England. Or elsewhere, really. So even if I moved to LA, I’d barely be there anyway.”
Alex considers that – the constant motion, Henry’s life scattered across countries and continents. It isn’t so different from his own life as a supermodel, always traveling for photoshoots and runways. Mostly New York, sure, but he’s in Paris and Milan a significant amount of time as well.
The thought comes unbidden that he and Henry are both always on the move. That it’s mostly impossible to be in the same place at the same time.
Not that there’s any reason he should be worrying about that at all.
***
The sad scenes are finally over. They move to the part of the story where George finally gets his memories back after years of Gabriel waiting.
It’s an amazing feeling to shoot the scenes of George apologizing for forgetting him, of Gabriel finally getting to hold George again, of George looking at Gabriel with recognition, teary-eyed and full of love, even if by then Gabriel’s vision has deteriorated so badly he can barely see it.
The first kiss after all that agony, and the first kiss Alex and Henry shoot too. Careful at first, but then surer as George cups his face and says, “I’m here.”
Gabriel and George supporting each other for the next year, Gabriel almost blind and George unable to walk.
And then later, when they both receive the cure, leaving the facility hand in hand, ready to face the world again. Unsure, after more than five years of being quarantined, where to go next and where life will lead them. The world has changed, and aside from their families and friends outside, nothing is set in stone. One thing is certain, though: George and Gabriel will face it together. Now with the promise of starting over, wherever they choose, always together.
It’s cathartic to shoot those scenes. Especially for Alex, finally getting that closure he’d wanted for the story all along. A happy ending.
And then finally, they shoot the scenes from before the memory loss. It’s a different kind of gratification. Playing characters who are falling in love. Fumbling words, fumbling with clothes. Sweet kisses, shy kisses, rushed and hungry kisses. Lying together on the bed, looking into each other’s eyes like they’re trying to see each other’s souls.
And Alex is… confused.
He’s not sure if this is character bleed anymore. Because when he looks at Henry, it feels like he’s really falling in love. And when Henry looks back, it feels like he can really see straight through him and feels the same.
The kisses are too sweet, and Alex has to stop himself every time from chasing Henry’s lips when the director calls cut.
After several weeks of shooting scenes like they’re in love, Alex once again doesn’t know where Gabriel ends and where Alex begins.
What makes it worse is that the line between George and Henry has become blurry as well.
They don’t hug after every take anymore since that grounding technique isn’t necessary now. But they still drift toward each other between takes, staying close without meaning to. They prep side by side, Henry reading his lines while drinking tea, Alex skimming his script while gulping down coffee and sneaking glances at Henry.
Sometimes, he catches Henry staring too. Henry always looks away first, ears pink, and Alex can’t tell if it’s really Henry, or if it’s Henry settling into his George character before the shooting day begins.
And at the end of every day, they still have dinner together, sometimes outside, sometimes in Henry’s room, sometimes in Alex’s.
The cast and crew tease them about being joined at the hip. Henry just smiles and shrugs, while Alex always laughs it off, playfully telling a joke or a tease, like claiming he’s just gracing Henry with his presence so he doesn’t get lonely.
Time moves too fast when they’re together. Sometimes, when they’re in each other’s rooms – between eating, watching movies or shows where they find small things to argue about, talking about their sisters, their careers, their hopes and dreams, things they care about – Alex would notice the clock creeping toward midnight. He knows Henry sees it too, but neither of them says anything. They stay until they can’t anymore, until they really have to sleep so they can have enough rest before call time the next day.
On days off, they push it even further, staying up until three or four in the morning, then finding a cozy place for brunch and driving aimlessly all day. Just them, without anyone else.
***
And if you wanna act more drunk than usual
To help you get away with more then
Rest on me
Honey, that's alright
Honey, that's alright
On the last day of filming, the cast and crew take turns giving speeches and messages to everyone. Alex is embarrassingly emotional. It’s his first acting job after all, and he’s genuinely grateful to everyone involved in this project. Henry looks at him fondly, passing him a handkerchief when a few tears cling to his eyelashes.
Later that night, they have a wrap-up party. Alex beelines to the seat next to Henry’s, which was deliberately left vacant. At this point, everybody knows they’ll sit together.
Much later, with their bellies full and several drinks in, Henry leans his head against Alex’s shoulder – which says a lot considering Henry is, begrudgingly, taller than him and has to fold himself in to make it work.
Then Henry mumbles something that Alex doesn't catch.
“What was that?” he asks.
Henry just shakes his head.
Even though he’d rather stay like this, Alex gently shifts his shoulder to dislodge Henry.
He tilts Henry’s chin up so he can see his face. Henry’s eyes are closed, cheeks flushed from the vodka, blond hair falling over his forehead. Alex has the stupid, overwhelming thought that Henry looks so unfairly pretty like this.
“Henry,” he says softly. “What were you saying?”
Henry keeps his eyes closed but smiles sweetly. “I said, I’m so fucking proud of you.”
Warmth spread through Alex’s chest.
“Yeah?”
Henry nods. “Yeah. You’re amazing. I know you’ll do great if you continue acting. You’ll be great at whatever you do.” He pauses, huffs a soft laugh, then keeps going in that loose, tipsy way. ”Because you’re amazing, and passionate, and hardworking. And you care so much about everyone and everything.”
Alex bites his lip. It’s another stupid thought, but he really wants to kiss Henry right now.
But he knows it’s totally wrong. They’re both a little drunk, and Alex is aware that they’ve been living in a bubble for the past two months, wrapped up in a story where Alex’s character is devastatingly in love with Henry’s. He knows how easily feelings can blur in situations like this.
And Henry’s a professional. He’s done countless movies and shows before. Surely he knows how to separate his character from reality. Alex is the one on his first job who stupidly thinks he’s caught feelings for his first co-star.
So, no. He’s not going to kiss Henry.
Instead, he chuckles lightly. “Thank you, Henry. I really appreciate that coming from you.”
He means it. Whatever he may be feeling, he’s honored to hear that from Henry.
Henry hums, a small frown creasing his forehead. “But I’m sad.”
Alex’s smile falters. “Why?”
Henry opens his eyes. They’re glassy, but the depth of those beautiful blue eyes is still breathtaking. “Because it’s the end.”
“The end?”
“The end of these amazing two months with you.”
The words land like a punch to Alex’s gut.
Because Henry’s right. After two months of seeing each other every day – of routines, shared meals, banter, deep conversations, and borderline co-dependency – they will now have to part. Go back to different countries and move on to other projects, be busy with their jobs and lose touch because of different time zones.
Just like that, he won’t be able to see Henry as much as he wants to anymore.
That puts a damper on Alex’s night. He stays, smiles at stories and laughs at jokes, but he’s not really enjoying much anymore. He feels kind of somber and mostly just watches everyone else have fun.
Henry remains quiet beside him, progressively getting even more drunk until he slumps against Alex’s shoulder again and Alex finally cuts him off from any more alcohol.
***
The next morning, Alex feels off. He’s always been a morning person, but he’s reluctant to get ready and head to the airport. He’s not even hungover – he’s switched to water long before the wrap-up party ended.
His bags are packed and he’s already dressed, and yet he’s sitting on the couch motionlessly and staring blankly at the wall, until a knock on his door startles him out of it.
Expecting his coordinator, he’s surprised to find Henry standing there instead, rumpled and pale, but still so beautiful.
“Henry? What’s up?”
“Alex. Er–” Henry looks down. “I just wanted to ask if you’d like to go to the airport together?”
Alex’s eyebrows shoot up. “Your flight to London isn’t until noon, right?”
“Well, yes. But it’s only two hours after yours.”
“Then you’ll have to wait for two more hours at the airport,” Alex says dumbly.
Henry shrugs. “I don’t mind.”
“Hen, you look like you’ll fall over anytime. Don’t you want to just sleep more?”
“I can sleep at the airport and on the plane.”
“But–”
“You can’t outstubborn me on this, Alex,” Henry says, his mouth quirking up a little.
Alex sighs, and Henry’s face suddenly drops.
“But if you’d rather uhm, go alone, that’s fine too.”
Well, that won’t do.
“Oh come on. Of course I want to go with you. I was just worried.”
Henry smiles properly this time and steps inside, ignoring Alex’s last sentence. That’s when Alex notices Henry already has his suitcases with him.
So they wait together for Alex to be picked up. He manages to convince Henry to lie down for a few minutes while he makes tea from the stash he’d stocked up specifically for Henry for all the times Henry spent at his apartment – the same stash Alex had, for some reason, packed into his suitcase to bring back to New York.
He doesn’t let himself think about that too hard.
When he returns, he joins Henry on the couch, and they sit close enough that their shoulders and thighs press together.
If this is the last time they can be this close, Alex will take what he can get.
At the airport, they fall into an easy silence. Alex keeps his voice low when he speaks, careful not to aggravate Henry’s hangover. Henry wears sunglasses, and Alex teases him that he’s being such a famous actor staple right now.
Henry weakly bites back that it’s just because of his hangover, and Alex is sure that Henry is rolling his eyes behind those sunglasses.
He’ll miss this, really. He’ll miss Henry. But he doesn’t let himself linger on that thought for now.
When Henry rests his head on Alex’s shoulder, Alex stiffens for a moment. It’s one thing to be close on set or in private, but it’s another thing to be this close in an airport. Even with the sunglasses, Henry is definitely recognizable.
But, well, Alex guesses there’s no harm in it. It would be free PR for their movie if someone took a picture of them. And besides, it’s an innocent gesture between close friends like them.
Close friends.
Alex feels his heart break a little at the thought that they might not even be that anymore after this – when they’re out of the bubble and no longer immersed in their characters.
He leans his head against Henry’s and closes his eyes, relishing Henry’s warmth and the scent of clean linen and fresh grass.
After a while, his flight begins boarding. He waits until the last possible minute before reluctantly nudging Henry awake.
“Hey, Henry.”
Henry lifts his head immediately.
“Sorry for waking you. My flight’s boarding, so I have to go.”
“Yes, I know.”
Alex stands slowly, slipping his backpack over his shoulder.
“I…”
“Go, Alex. They’ll be doing their last call soon. And your gate is all the way at the other end.”
“How did you–”
Henry stands as well and pulls Alex into a hug.
Alex is surprised for half a second before hugging him back automatically. It feels natural, like muscle memory at this point.
“You were awake?” he murmurs into Henry’s shoulder.
Henry just nods.
They stay like that, holding on a little longer than necessary. As always, he feels safe cocooned in Henry’s arms. Henry’s shoulders cover his, and for a moment, it feels like nothing else in the entire stupid world matters.
“Bye, Alex,” Henry whispers softly, and Alex feels Henry’s arms tighten around him.
Alex hugs him harder than he means to, and the words slip out before he can stop them.
“I’ll miss you, Hen.”
Then he lets go, and walks away without looking back.
***
And immediately I grabbed you
You go all red
Like the first time
I love it when you do that
God, I love it when you do that
Alex drops the script he’s reading the second his phone starts ringing on the bedside table. He swipes to accept the call and is greeted by sharp cheekbones and blond hair.
“Good morning, Alex.”
Alex grins. “It’s already afternoon for you. How’s your meeting?”
He sees Henry grimace. “The agency is stressed, so it’s horrible. But they’re rearranging stuff and squeezing in some more LA schedules to make the most out of it.”
“Great!” Alex exclaims. “How long will you be there? I have meetings in LA too for my new project, so I’ll be there for the entire week.”
Henry shrugs. “I don’t know yet, but I’ll let you know as soon as my schedule’s finalized.”
Alex smiles, satisfied, and leans back more comfortably against his pillow, settling in for their daily conversation.
It's been more than a month, and he and Henry have been calling every day and texting when they can't. He thought they'd lose the closeness once they got out of the bubble, truly believed that whatever was there would just fade away.
But it didn’t.
The day he landed back in New York after the shoot, he told himself he wouldn’t be ridiculous about it, but he hadn’t even exited JFK before he lost that battle and checked Henry’s flight status, and he kept checking it as the afternoon passed. He debated if he should message Henry when he knew he was in his layover, but decided against it and instead unpacked, brought groceries, then obsessively cleaned his apartment.
But as soon as he saw Henry’s flight had landed, he couldn’t help but text:
is it raining in London?
was the flight okay?
were you able to sleep?
And then immediately realized he was being too much again.
But before he could delete them and overthink what to send instead, Henry’s reply appeared:
Yes, it’s raining as usual. And yes, the flight was okay, albeit long. But no, I wasn’t able to sleep.
Alex breathed a sigh of relief at the quick reply. He asked why he didn’t get to sleep, but Henry brushed it off with his own question of why Alex isn’t asleep yet, given that it was already 3AM in New York.
And then they just…didn’t stop talking. The texts became constant, like another routine.
Then, about a week later, Alex was baking Tres Leches and impulsively FaceTimed Henry to show him. They talked about how different it was from what Henry saw on The Great British Bake Off Series 13, and kept talking until it was already past midnight for Henry.
After that, they kept Facetiming whenever their schedules aligned – which admittedly should have been more seldom, given the time difference and how busy they both are, but somehow they kept finding the time even just for twenty minutes every day.
Now Henry is about to fly to Italy tomorrow to start shooting for another project, but they’ll see each other in a month for ADR in LA. It means flying in from Italy mid-shoot for Henry, and Alex had expected him to at least be annoyed about it, but he didn’t. Henry actually seemed genuinely excited.
Supposedly, it’s just for a couple of days, but based on what Henry just said, it seems they’ll both be there a bit longer.
And that’s great news, really. Because he misses Henry. He wants to see him and spend time with him so badly. Make him laugh and see that blush in person instead of through a screen, and feel his arms around him again. Although the constant communication helps. And of course, the looking forward to seeing each other.
It’s like his life got more colorful – having something to anticipate. Seeing Henry in LA next month for work and hopefully more. Then Alex is flying to Italy too after that for a feature, but he’ll try to visit Henry on set. And a month after that, when Henry gets back to London, Alex will already be there for London Fashion Week.
He figures he was just being uncharacteristically pessimistic when he thought they wouldn’t see much of each other after their shoot was over.
And the thing is, he’s also realized his feelings weren’t just character bleed.
Because despite not being with Henry for a month now, they didn’t fade. If anything, they grew even more.
They’re now in different countries, different time zones, doing different projects. No scripts, no characters to play, no proximity. And yet Alex still wakes up with Henry as his first thought and still wants to talk to him all the time.
He really wants to shake his head at himself. He really doesn't do anything by halves.
Alex Claremont-Diaz fell in love with his first co-star, which is objectively ridiculous.
And maybe, just maybe, Henry feels at least a little bit the same.
***
Alex is bouncing his leg beneath the table, anxiously checking his watch every few seconds. He arrived in LA last night, but Henry just landed and is coming to the studio straight from the airport, truly the life of a busy actor.
Henry texted him that he’s on his way, and Alex feels like he’s about to explode.
Not because he’s going to see Henry after two months, one week, and four days.
But also yes, exactly because of that. It’s not like he has to deny it to himself at this point.
The door opens, and Alex looks up. Henry enters the room and it’s like the breath is knocked out of his lungs.
“Alex,” Henry greets with a beautiful smile, sounding breathless as well.
Alex wordlessly strides across the room and grabs Henry into a hug. Henry immediately turns red.
God, Alex loves it when he does that.
They pull away when a staff member greets Henry. Then they sit right next to each other as they’re handed their lines, like they used to, as if no time has passed at all.
The day goes by. They talk to the production staff, get back on the same page, rehearse their lines and record them, all the while staying close to each other.
Alex feels clingy, but Henry is just as bad. He keeps a hand on Alex all the time, or presses their shoulders or thighs together. At one point he even crossed their ankles under the table during lunch.
It’s as if Henry doesn’t want any distance between them either. Like Henry missed him just as much. Like Henry would be untethered as well if he’s not touching Alex.
When the day is over, they don’t have to talk about it – it’s understood that they’ll have dinner together.
“Do you want to eat out, or would you rather we just eat at the hotel? You must be exhausted. You were on a plane since yesterday and came straight to the studio.”
“I’m fine, but I’d love to have the chance to shower and change,” Henry says. “I smell like the plane. Good thing you’re not grossed out.”
“Baby, you smell good all the time. You smell like you.”
Henry stops mid-step and blushes so profusely in a shade Alex has never seen before on him.
“U-uhm, what did you say?” Henry stutters.
“I said you smell good. You always smell like clean linen and grass underneath whatever perfume you’re wearing.”
“N-no, you called me something.”
Oh.
“Oh,” Alex says dumbly. He just realized he called Henry baby.
“I, I’m... sorry?” he adds sheepishly.
Henry looks at him in a way Alex can’t quite read. They stare at each other silently for a few seconds before Henry clears his throat.
“Uhm. Let’s go to the hotel so I can shower, and then we can order room service and… talk?”
Alex’s heart is in his throat, so he just nods.
His mind is racing – afraid that Henry might have clocked his feelings and is going to let him down gently, but also hopeful that maybe Henry will tell him he feels the same way, and then worried again that Henry will say that he does but that they can’t be together because it’s too difficult.
Alex already has his arguments prepared for that last one. He’s been thinking about it ever since he acknowledged he was in love. Or maybe even unconsciously before that.
They talk about mundane things in the car to the hotel they’re both staying at. Then Alex says he’s going to take a quick shower and change too, and will just go to Henry’s room after.
Henry nods and gives him his room number.
Alex paces his own room once he’s done, trying to burn off some of the nervous energy. It feels like he’s about to go cliff diving – which is an apt description for this entire undertaking.
But the thing is, jumping off cliffs is kind of his thing. From studying politics to taking up modeling, starting acting because of a music video he wanted a happy ending for, and now trying to get in a long-distance relationship with a man even busier than him.
He huffs out a breath and walks resolutely to Henry’s room.
Henry opens the door immediately when Alex knocks, his knuckles still raised mid-air.
Alex knows it should feel awkward, but he steps inside and enters Henry’s space like it’s second nature. He sits on the bed while Henry retrieves the menu from the bedside table.
“What do you want?” Henry asks as he sits beside Alex, so close Alex can feel his breath on his cheek.
Alex opens the menu and scans it, too anxious to really think about food. He picks the first thing he sees and proceeds to watch Henry read through the menu, worrying his lip unconsciously.
Once he’s chosen, Henry walks over to the phone and orders their dinner.
Then he turns back to Alex and takes a deep breath, sticking his chin out like he’s trying to look tougher than he feels.
“So, uhm…”
Despite the nervousness, Alex looks at him fondly. God, he really loves this man.
He pats the bed beside him, signaling for Henry to sit again.
Henry does, and takes Alex’s hand. The gesture feels ominous – like he’s about to deliver bad news – and Alex can already feel himself starting to spiral.
“I think we should talk about this,” Henry starts. “It’s– It’s obvious there’s something more here. And you know we both have demanding jobs and schedules, and we’re always in different places–”
“I know it’s complicated,” Alex blurts. “The distance, and our schedules, but I really think we could make it work. And I know we’re both not out yet, but I’m sure that would come up once our movie is released, playing queer characters and all, and–”
“Alex–”
“Because I love you,” he rushes on. “And I know that sounds insane and you might think I’m being ridiculous but–”
Henry stares at him, face carefully neutral, but there’s mirth in his eyes that Alex can’t comprehend in this situation.
“You interrupted me,” Henry says mildly.
Oh God. He’s making this worse.
“Fuck, sorry,” Alex mutters.
Henry’s lips twitch. “I was going to say that I know we both know all those complications, but I don’t think I can keep pretending we’re just friends.”
Alex’s breath catches.
“And unfortunately,” Henry adds, voice softening. “Deep down, I’m also a gigantic, sappy, embarrassing romantic who just wants the happily ever after–”
And because Alex is Alex, he interrupts again. “Oh, I know.”
Henry rolls his eyes and smiles.
“Sorry,” Alex says quickly. “Go on.
“So, I wanted to ask you if you’d like to try this with me. Because I really, really want to.”
Alex’s answering smile feels like it might split his face in half.
“Yes! Yes!” he says, and throws himself at Henry.
Henry laughs and catches him easily, wrapping his arms around him.
“And by the way, I love you too,” he murmurs against Alex’s hair.
Alex squeezes him tighter before pulling back just enough to look at him. His eyelashes are wet, and Henry’s eyes look misty too.
And Alex finally, finally leans in and kisses Henry. Without cameras rolling this time.
They kiss for a long time, only stopping when the room service arrives, breathless and giggling.
They both know it’s not going to be easy. It’s a rough road ahead, but as both believers of happy endings, they also know they’re both going to do their best.
***
Six months later, press promotions for the film are in full swing.
Everyone keeps talking about their chemistry, and the fans are eating it up.
Alex and Henry are in bed, cocooned together under the duvet, Henry’s head resting on Alex’s chest as Alex scrolls through photos to post. He picks one of them getting their make-up done together, them backstage at a late-night show, and them eating burgers in the car after an interview.
“Should I caption this Press Tour Day 3 with great company? Or ‘Cause I'd rather go blind than let you down?”
Henry smiles, recognizing that line from their movie.
“Whatever you want, my love,” he answers softly, leaning up for a soft kiss.