Henry is Jeff

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You're in a car with a beautiful boy, and he won't tell you that he loves you, but he loves you. And you feel like you've done something terrible, like robbed a liquor store, or swallowed pills, or shoveled yourself a grave in the dirt, and you're tired.

Richard Siken, You Are Jeff


Alex's POV

Oh. Henry kissed him. Was kissing him. And Alex wanted it to continue. He kissed girls in the club, and Liam a few times as a joke. But it hadn't felt like this. Kissing is slimy and gross and Alex made this one worse by pushing his tongue forward, but the burning want in his stomach made it good. His tongue touched Henry's teeth and then he was pulling it back and being pushed away. He stared at Henry dumbly for a moment. And then Henry turned and ran. Bastardo, Alex cursed internally.

He was supposed to hate this boy. He was supposed to kill this boy. So why did he want to kiss him again?

He thought of Richard Siken and the two Jeffs. That was Henry's poem, one Alex had learned from a book on Henry's shelf. Because he read the books on Henry's shelf, fascinated for the first time by poetry and romance. Henry had good taste in poetry and romance. And in romantic tragedies; he liked Bronte and Victor Hugo.

Alex wasn't even gay. Was he? Shit. And Henry had run away. That bastard.

Henry's POV

Henry had all of ten minutes of peace, twiddling his thumbs on Pez's mattress, before mad knocking sounded on the door. Henry's thoughts were jumbled and nervous. The electricity of the kiss had worn off and now he was just overwhelmed and tired and Alex was going to whack the door off its hinges.

"Sound like yours" Pez said sarcastically,

"Don't let him in, I need to think." Henry said, quietly. But apparently Dorm room doors are about as sound proof as paper because Alex immediately shouted,

"Stop thinking! LET ME IN... Pez!"

Henry sighed and opened the door. Alex had wild hair and focused eyes. He smelled like spilt beer and looked like a dangerously handsome rogue. Henry sat down again. "So now you're here." He said dryly

He was shaking inside. He had kissed ALEX. Enemy spy Alex. Angry roommate Alex. Overcaffeinated and overstudious Alex. Terrifyingly charming Alex. Alex, who had his father's gun. Alex, who was straight. Alex who was too good for him, and probably hated him and could not possibly want this and...

Alex grabbed Henry's collar and almost pulled him off the bed, whispering in his ear, "Do it again, do it again, do it again," Oh. "Please." Alex whined. He was staring at Henry's lips like they were the most important thing on earth. Of course he couldn't wait until they had a civil conversation and signed the requisite, updated NDAs. When Alex wanted something, he wanted it immediately, they don't teach Americans patience. And Alex wanted Henry to kiss him again. Alex. Wanted. Henry. To. Kiss. Him. Again. Henry had so many thoughts rushing through his mind; this was wrong, Alex liked him? Why did Alex like him? "Stop thinking and kiss me!"

Henry suddenly obeyed, pulling Alex into his lap and kissing him properly on Pez's bed. Alex gripped Henry's collar so tightly he almost choked. Henry didn't care. Fuck breathing. Alex wanted his kiss. Alex wanted him to stop thinking and kiss him. He licked Alex's teeth and battled with his tongue for dominance. His fingers scraped up and down Alex's back until he found soft curls and pulled, hard. Alex threw his head back, gasping.

"You are the most annoying human-" Henry breathed into his exposed throat, placing a kiss on his collarbone.

Pez cleared his throat, "Love is great and all- Can you guys do this in your own room maybe?"

Henry lifted Alex off of himself and pulled him out of the room. Then Alex turned around, shoved him against Pez's door and made out with him in the middle of the hallway. "Alex," Henry said, gasping for breath. Alex kept tonguing his throat. "Alex!"

Alex looked up with his intense brown eyes so blown out by lust Henry almost kissed him again. Instead he stepped back and straightened his clothes. "We can't do this here."

Alex glanced around and Henry could already see he had come to a different conclusion, "Yes we c-"

"- No, we can't" Henry said firmly. "Don't mope."

Alex looked at him with puppy eyes under dark lashes, "I'm not moping. I'm stating a fact. We can. You might even argue we should. I would argue-"

"Are you even gay?" Henry cut him off, surprising himself and Alex.

"I don't know." Alex fidgeted, and stepped towards Henry. He looked a bit lost but mostly just... focused on other things. Well, one other thing. One other thing that Henry could just make out the outline of in his sweatpants. "We shouldn't go further until you do know." Henry said. Then he sighed, looking at the ceiling. "We shouldn't have gone this far, really."

"I know what I want, why does the label matter?"

"Because..." Because you call me the 'progeny of genocidal maniacs' and then watch me read Richard Siken with heart eyes. Because you're a spy and you hate everything I am and everything I stand for. Because an hour ago it had not even occurred to you you might like me. Because this was sudden and you're not sure, and you need to be sure. "Because this was awfully quick, and I don't think you can promise me you won't regret it in the morning."

Alex was looking at him with those intense eyes, so focused on getting what he wants all the time, but Henry knew he had won.

They walked back to their dorm in silence. But before they reached the door, Alex reached for Henry's hand and interlaced their fingers.

"Lord, this is a horrible idea." Henry muttered, staring at their hands. Alex hummed in agreement, but he was smiling. Trouble, Henry thought, but kissed him on the cheek before bed.

You're in a car with a beautiful boy, and you're trying not to tell him that you love him, and you're trying to choke down the feeling, and you're trembling, but he reaches over and he touches you, like a prayer for which no words exist, and you feel your heart taking root in your body, like you've discovered something you didn't even have a name for.

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