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Henry hates New Year’s Eve.
To him, it’s just another excuse to throw a party and to get absolutely sozzled on whatever alcoholic drink happens to be handy. Or a shoddy reason to choose some empty resolution for the new year and often used as an opportunity to kiss a truly horrid amount of people.
While Henry is not morally opposed to kissing strangers or having a tipple or two–he does hazily remember his Oxford days–it’s simply not his cup of tea any longer. He’s grown and matured as a person. In other words, he’d much rather curl up on his sofa, Earl Grey in a mug beside him, Bake Off on the telly and his dog David at his feet than subject himself to a loud party or a rowdy crowd.
And if Henry is being honest, kissing strangers no longer holds any appeal. Not since he met Alex.
Alexander Claremont-Diaz, who is devilishly handsome, sharply intelligent and intensely fascinating. The same man whose dark curls, infectious laugh and overall existence Henry can’t stop thinking about. Alex, the man who Henry is in love with.
They met 11 months, 4 weeks and 3 days ago when Alex sat down beside him in their History lecture and yes, Henry has been counting the days. He would count down to the minutes and even the seconds, but a man must have some standards for himself and not be completely pathetic. Henry’s at least making an attempt at that, though Pez tells him he’s a lost cause. Because from that moment on, his life could be summed up into two distinct parts–B.A. and A.A., or Before Alex and After Alex.
In Henry’s After Alex era, he and Alex have become close friends. It’s nice. Quite a bit more than nice, actually. It began when they were assigned a group project and exchanged numbers. Alex was an avid texter and after the initial message, they found themselves in a conversation that just never seemed to stop. Alex, with his penchant for random thoughts and strong opinions, keeps Henry on his toes and makes him laugh. Alex never seems to mind when Henry blathers on about ancient mythology or Byron–though he does seem to draw the line when it comes to sailing. Something about it being an activity that only rich, entitled white people do.
And now that they’re friends, it’s not just texting. They have movie nights, their own study spot in the library and go for walks together with David in the park. Henry knows even more about Alex–how he likes his coffee with one sugar and a dash of cinnamon, that he wears glasses when his eyes get tired, how hard he tries and a million other little things that allow Henry to see just how wonderful Alex truly is. He’s been in love with Alex since the beginning, but their friendship has made his feelings grow even stronger.
And now, there's another reason that Henry hates New Year’s. He’s going to have to bear witness to Alex kissing someone at the stroke of midnight. Someone who isn’t Henry, because he still hasn’t found the courage to tell Alex how he feels, or figured out if there's any chance that Alex could feel the same way.
He tried to beg off from the party, knowing that Alex would be there, but Pez was having none of it. He had looked at Henry with narrowed eyes. “This isn’t because you hate New Year’s Eve, Henry. This is because of Alexander, isn’t it?” Pez asked over their Christmas ham. He wiped at the corner of his mouth with his brightly coloured napkin. “Hazza, I keep telling you that–”
Henry interrupted. “Yes, Percy, I know you keep telling me that I should make a move,” he said, swallowing his food with great effort. The ham was suddenly very dry and too salty. “And I do plan to. Eventually.”
Pez smiled with great delight, looking almost like he could start clapping at any moment. “Wonderful news, darling!” he cheered. “Should I start pricing skywriters? Perhaps we should look into ordering a cake with Marry me, dearest Alexander written in blue, or maybe red on it? I know a lovely bakery. It’s the one that I ordered that penis-shaped red velvet cake for Mariane’s bachelorette. Oh, now there’s an idea…”
“Absolutely not, Pez! I haven’t even asked the man out on a date yet,” Henry said. “A phallic-shaped cake and a marriage proposal is not going to be my opening move.”
“And why not? If you try to tell me that you haven’t been planning your wedding to that delicious man since the moment that you met, I would have to call you a deceiver!” Pez smirked and gestured widely with his fork. “I’m sure that you have been writing Henry Claremont-Diaz-Fox in your diary since that very first day.”
“It’s a journal, not a diary, Percy,” Henry grumbled. He looked back to their Christmas dinner spread, avoiding Pez’s all-seeing gaze. The roasted potatoes looked particularly interesting at that exact moment.
“That’s not a denial I’m hearing, Henry. I should maybe take an old gander at this diary and see for myself,” Pez teased. “I mean, I am absolutely dying to know what names you have picked out for your children. How many are you planning? Ooh, will you require a nanny? Please let me offer my services!”
“Ha ha,” Henry had chuckled darkly as he pushed his brussel sprouts around his plate. There’s no way in hell he’d ever let Pez see his diary–no, his journal–he did have some sense of self preservation, after all. He means well, truly, but Pez never seemed to have Henry’s penchant for privacy. “Pez, honestly. I do want to ask Alex out. If it makes you happy, let’s say it’s my New Year’s resolution or something.”
Pez nodded as a slightly diabolical expression had slowly spread over his face. There was a brow raise and a slight quirk to the corner of his mouth that made prickles of nervousness crawl up Henry’s spine. Henry had seen this look a few too many times before and knew that it would mean trouble, especially for him. Pez rubbed his hands together and looked all too pleased. Without a doubt, he was plotting something.
“Darling, you simply must come to my party then,” he grinned, an impish sparkle in his eyes. “Leave it all to me; you know that I’m aces at basically everything. We’re going to get this resolution completed in no time.”
And now, here he is at Pez's Resolution Revelry party, leaning against the bar in a tuxedo with a glass of something that tastes suspiciously of vodka and bad decisions. As always, Pez had gone all out with party planning. He hired a bartender, an actual DJ and set up a dance floor, instead of having just a keg, a playlist and sofas pushed against the walls. He’s managed to transform the frat house into something festive–though the main theme of this party seems to be glitter. It’s absolutely everywhere; Henry is sure he’s going to be finding glitter on his person for the next week.
The person beside him moves away after they get their drink and that’s when Henry spots Alex at the end of the bar. He swallows the dregs of his drink, sets down his glass and heads towards him. Henry manages to greet him without making an entire fool of himself. Alex smiles when he sees Henry, causing a feeling in Henry’s chest that only vaguely resembles a heart attack.
Because it’s absolutely criminal how good Alex looks. With dark stubble on his jaw and his unruly curls tamed, Henry feels like his heart is making an attempt to leap out from behind his ribcage. Alex is wearing a black jacket and sinfully tight pants that emphasize his broad shoulders and narrow waist. The white silk shirt, with more than a few buttons opened at the neck, makes Henry want to reach out to touch, to see if the fabric is as soft as it looks.
But before Henry can give into any urges, he and Alex are interrupted by a girl with dark hair in a green dress. She makes a beeline for Alex the moment she sees him and swings an arm around his shoulders with familiarity.
“Alex! How’re you doing?” she asks, looking up at him through her lashes.
“I’m good, how’re you?” Alex answers. He glances back at Henry. “Have you met Henry?”
Green Dress Girl’s gaze briefly flickers over to Henry, like she’s only just noticing that he’s there. Henry clears his throat and awkwardly introduces himself. “Hi, I’m uh, Henry.”
Before Green Dress Girl responds, the music changes. Her eyes light up in recognition and she pulls on Alex’s hand, tugging him towards the dancefloor. “Oh my god, this song! We have to dance, come on!”
Alex reluctantly lets himself be pulled, but glances back at Henry as he’s being guided away. “You’re not going to dance?” he asks and Henry almost thinks that he might see something a little hopeful in Alex’s eyes, but he’s probably only imagining it.
Henry forces a smile and shakes his head. “You go ahead. I don’t think my ballroom dance lessons will be useful here. Besides, I’m sure that Pez needs help with adding a bit more glitter to the decor. I don’t think there’s quite enough yet.” He rolls his eyes fondly and gestures at the decorations that sparkle and shine from almost every available surface.
Alex smiles back, walking backwards away from Henry. “Well, if you want to dance, sweetheart, you make sure to come and find me. I can help you with your dance moves. After all, you wouldn’t want to embarrass yourself doing the polka or something.”
Left alone at the bar, Henry watches Alex head to the dancefloor. He watches as his hips start to move to the music, but has to wrench his gaze away when Green Dress Girl presses herself closer and wraps her arms around Alex’s neck. He can’t watch that.
Henry turns back to the bar. He hails the bartender, orders another drink and tells himself that he shouldn’t feel jealous because Alex isn’t his. It almost works, aside from the fact that it reminds Henry of how he needs to tell Alex how he feels, before he loses his chance altogether. Alex is so effortlessly charming and handsome, Henry’s sure that Alex has no problem getting a date. While he’s waiting for his drink, Henry tries to recall the last time Alex mentioned dating anyone.
But he can’t seem to recall Alex mentioning anything to do with dating, or even being interested in anyone in at least a couple months, now that he’s thinking about it. Henry wonders why that is. When the bartender sets the gin and tonic down in front of him, Henry stares into his drink as though it might have the answer to his question. However, the bottom of the glass holds no wisdom so Henry takes a long swig, and the alcohol burns a little when he swallows.
Henry has only been standing there for a few moments when Pez leans against the bar beside him. He’s resplendent in a deep purple sequined tuxedo jacket, with his hair dyed to match and glitter dusted across his cheekbones. “Darling, why are you not dancing with Alexander?” He asks, leaning in close to Henry so he can be heard over the music and waggles his eyebrows suggestively. “Tonight’s the perfect opportunity for you to complete your New Year’s resolution.”
“Percy, I don’t believe that I’m going to have a chance to profess my undying love tonight,” Henry says dryly. He swirls the almost empty glass and sighs. He’s going to need more alcohol if he’s going to last until midnight, assuming that Pez won’t let him duck out early. Finishing his drink, he shrugs. “Though I suppose I’ll have the entire year to complete my New Year’s resolution. If I’m not too late.”
“What do you mean?”
Henry turns back to face the mass of people dancing. Alex is at the edge of the crowd, dancing like he was born to it, laughing and smiling as he sings along with the lyrics. Green Dress Girl has her hands in his hair and Alex’s hands are on her hips as they move together to the music. “They look good together,” he tells Pez, shrugging, trying to play it off like he’s not yearning to be the one in Alex’s arms.
Pez doesn’t look convinced. He huffs, watching Alex dip Green Dress Girl and spin her. He looks at Henry then, a flicker of something on his face before he smiles serenely and reaches over the bar. Lifting up a bottle of champagne, he deftly opens it with a few practiced movements. “Henry, do you remember where the Games Room is?” When Henry nods, he continues. “Take this and make your way there. It’s off limits to most of the other guests, but you’re with me. Use the quiet to recharge. I have a few things to accomplish–you know a host’s duties are never quite finished–but I’ll meet you there as soon as I can.”
Henry wraps his hand around the neck of the bottle and sighs. “I could use a little quiet, if I’m honest,” Henry admits. “I just need a moment or two.”
Pez pats his cheek. “No worries, Hazza darling. Auntie Pezza will take care of everything.”
With that, Henry makes his way upstairs to the Games Room, the loudness of the music fading the farther away he is from the party. He finds the space empty, just like Pez said it would be and shuts the door behind him. There’s a loveseat by a window so he flops down, spilling a little champagne in the process but can’t seem to find it in himself to care. He wraps his lips around the bottle and takes a less than delicate swig.
Henry tries not to think about Alex, but it’s no use. Even now, he itches to pull out his cell and send Alex a text. Ever since they met, Alex has invaded his thoughts to such a degree that it distracts him from things that he normally would occupy his time with. Maybe that’s how he should try to get over these feelings.
Henry takes another long drink from the bottle, wiping his mouth on the back of his hand. Leaning back on the loveseat, he rests his head against the soft cushion and stares at the ceiling. He groans and runs a hand through his hair.
Maybe he should change his resolution to something that’s actually possible, instead of some far-fetched dream that won’t come true. Maybe Henry should get preoccupied by learning a new complicated piece of music on his piano or attempting to finally make an edible quiche. Perhaps he could finally write that novel he’s been talking about for ages or take up a new hobby, like rock collecting.
Henry’s contemplating learning how to knit–and how lovely would David look in a handmade sweater–when the door opens. It’s Pez and he’s followed by a small group of people, most of whom Henry recognizes. The last person in the room is Alex, no Green Dress Girl in tow.
Pez motions for everyone to find a seat and there’s a low hum of conversation as the other partygoers settle in; grabbing nearby chairs, sitting on the floor or on the sofas situated about the room. Alex walks across the room to grin down at Henry as he stands in front of the loveseat.
“Is this spot taken?” Alex asks, eyeing up the free space beside Henry. Not waiting for him to reply, Alex plops down heavily on the empty cushion and leans closer so that he can whisper to Henry. “Do you know what Pez is up to? He just asked a few of us if we wanted to play pool.”
Henry quirks a brow, looks around the room and whispers back. “There’s no pool table in this room.”
“Wow, Fox, you’re as sharp as tack,” Alex bumps his shoulder into Henry’s. He doesn’t move away. “Nothing gets by you.”
He shakes his head. “Yes, well, you already knew that there’s no pool table in here, Alex. You live here, the last time I checked,” Henry grumbles. “You didn't have to follow Pez. Why did you not just continue dancing with…that girl in the green dress?”
Alex’s smile turns a little softer on the edges and his gaze feels warm on Henry’s face. Henry flushes. His heart flutters in his chest and he wonders if should schedule a check up with his doctor–just to make sure he doesn’t have a heart problem. Because the way his heart is acting? It could be Alex, or it could be atrial fibrillation.
But then, Alex scooches across the loveseat until he’s right beside Henry, his leg pressing against Henry’s and his arm resting on the back of the loveseat, near Henry’s shoulders. He leans even closer. “Pez said you were in here,” Alex tells him, voice low and his lips brushing the sensitive skin of Henry’s ear in a way that sends sparks down Henry’s spine. There’s a hand on his thigh that makes it hard for Henry to concentrate when Alex continues. “I want to spend New Year’s Eve with you.”
Oh, Henry thinks, or tries to think. His thoughts are muddled and it’s not due to the few drinks or the half bottle of champagne he’s imbibed. He swallows as his heart beats madly against his ribs and his breath catches in his lungs. He’s almost sure that he doesn’t have a heart problem. With the way that his heart’s beating right now, Henry’s sure his heart’s healthy. This is just the Alex effect.
Trying to calm his racing heart, Henry searches for something vaguely intelligent to say, some response that doesn't give away how his thoughts are disordered, how his normally clear and concise thought processes are just a jumble of observations about Alex. Like the scent of Alex's cologne invading his senses and Alex’s eyelashes, the longest ones that Henry's ever seen. The deep coffee brown of the eyes that meet his, the warmth of Alex sitting so close and how Alex's gaze has dropped to Henry's lips. Or how it feels like Alex is moving even closer…
He can’t seem to find a coherent thought. The best Henry's able to manage is “Oh.”
Henry doesn’t get a chance to continue his search for a response when Pez interrupts. “Hello, my nearest and dearest! I apologize for pulling you away from the revelry, but I do have a good reason,” Pez tells the group.
The chatter dies down as the partygoers listen to Pez. Alex turns to pay attention, sitting a little straighter, though he’s still leaning into Henry’s side. His mouth dry, Henry holds the neck of the champagne bottle tightly and takes a drink.
“As you all know, this little shindig I’m throwing has been dubbed Pez’s Resolution Revelry, which is a wonderful example of alliteration, if I do say so myself,” Pez says proudly. “And while I do believe that we have managed to accomplish the revelry portion of the night, we haven’t had a chance to work on our resolutions. So I thought, since we still have a few minutes before midnight, we could have a fun little activity and write down a resolution or two.”
There’s a mumble of chatter about the room as Pez hands out sheets of paper and not surprisingly, glitter gel pens. Pez does love a theme. Once the paper and pens are handed out, Pez excitedly claps his hands together. “Okay, my lovelies, let’s see those resolutions! Be creative! You’re all capable of great things, so I expect exciting goals for the new year!”
Pez has only just stopped speaking when Henry notices that Alex has already written something down. He’s biting his bottom lip and looking deep in thought, as he stares down at his sheet like whatever he wrote will be life-changing. It makes Henry deeply curious.
But looking down at his own sheet, Henry does not have the faintest idea what he should choose. He thinks about just writing anything down, even perhaps a resolution that he has no plans to actually follow through on.
Although Henry remembers a few years ago, when he had sarcastically told Pez that his resolution was to go base-jumping in Malaysia, never thinking that he would be taken seriously. A few months later, however, Pez had dragged him along on a trip to Malaysia, expecting Henry to jump off the side of a mountain with him. Needless to say, Henry did not do that.
So, his resolution should likely be something that he wouldn’t mind doing and something that is reasonably feasible. Something that won’t cause him to fear losing his life or limbs. Henry thinks again about trying a new hobby, but doubts that he has the patience to learn knitting. And rock collecting sounds all well and good but what exactly do you do with the rocks? His brow furrows and he taps the pen on his bottom lip as he contemplates his options.
What he really wants to write down…well, Henry’s starting to think that it's really not that far out of his reach. He glances quickly over at Alex, wondering if getting a midnight kiss from Alex is actually possible?
Alex looks up and catches Henry staring at him. Henry’s face flushes with heat and his heart starts to once again act like he’s in danger of cardiac arrest. There’s something in the way that Alex smiles, a softness in his expression that makes Henry feel brave; like he actually could go base-jumping in Malaysia and live to tell the tale. Surely, taking this leap is a little less death-defying?
So, Henry begins writing. It doesn’t take him much time at all. For a man with a penchant for prose, he writes only a few words on the paper. In fact, Henry only needs four words for his resolution.
Kiss Alex at midnight.
“Hey,” Alex murmurs. “So, what did you write?” His own paper is folded and clutched tightly in his hand. He almost looks a little nervous.
Henry flips his paper over, blocking Alex’s view of what he’s written. “Percy said nothing about sharing our resolutions. Perhaps mine is deeply personal and private.”
“I highly doubt that. Besides, we don’t keep secrets from one another, do we?”
“Honestly, sometimes I think that you overshare.”
“Excuse me? Don’t lie, Henry,” Alex grins. “You desperately want to know my every waking thought along with the nitty-gritty details of my life. In fact, you already know pretty much everything about me and I know everything about you.”
“Yes, it’s my burden to bear,” Henry sighs.
“Burden?! That’s fake news, sweetheart.”
Henry raises an eyebrow. “I did not need to know about the Gas Station Sushi incident and the ensuing…issues.”
“Come on, Hen. That was a learning opportunity.”
“I am quite capable of understanding the perils of gas station sushi and do know how to avoid food poisoning without the PowerPoint presentation you provided,” Henry grimaces, those 20 slides still emblazoned in his memory. “I especially could have done without slide 13.”
“Don’t try to distract me from your resolution. It’s not going to work,” Alex says, eyes narrowing. “Listen, I’ll show you mine if you show me yours. And yes, I meant to say it like that.”
“Alex–” Henry starts, but Alex interrupts.
“Show me your resolution, Henry.”
“It’s almost midnight–” Henry tries.
“Show me. Show me. Show me, show me, show me, show–” Alex repeats, grinning at Henry. It should be annoying, but it isn’t. Henry’s too enamoured of this foolish man.
“Fine.”
“–me! Wait, you will?” Alex blinks at him. He swallows, seemingly anxious. “You really don’t have to, honestly.”
“No, I want to but…I’ll show you mine, if you show me yours. I think that’s fair, don’t you?” Henry asks.
“Yeah, yes, that’s fair. Totally.” Alex nods slowly.
They switch papers a little clumsily. Henry’s hands might be shaking slightly, his palms a little sweaty. He’s nervous, but he wants to do this. Henry wants to jump off this cliff, but he’ll steer clear of any base-jumping.
Meeting Alex’s eyes, Henry nods and opens the folded paper. Turning, he looks down and reads the words written in Alex’s messy scrawl, blinking at them. Alex only wrote four words too.
Kiss Henry at midnight.
It feels like Henry’s heart may have stopped beating. Those four words bounce around his brain. He can’t stop looking at them. Henry takes in the red glitter gel ink and the shape of his name in Alex’s writing.
Kiss. Henry. At. Midnight.
It’s still there. It’s not a figment of his imagination or some kind of illusion. Alex wants to kiss him.
He looks back at Alex, who’s already focused on him. “Henry,” Alex begins, starting to say something.
Then there’s someone at the door, reminding everyone that there’s only a few minutes to midnight. People rush out of the room, eager to make their way back out to the dancefloor or to grab a glass of champagne before the countdown begins.
But Henry and Alex, they stay where they are. They don’t move an inch and Henry can’t seem to pay any attention to the people leaving.
The room empties out and they’re alone.
Alex speaks first. “I want to kiss you at midnight.” It’s not a question, but a statement of fact.
Henry nods. “It seems so.”
“And you want to kiss me at midnight.”
“I do,” Henry manages to say, throat dry and pulse racing. “I want to kiss you at midnight, Alex.”
“Henry, I really want to kiss you at midnight,” Alex repeats, voice low and sure. “Glad we cleared that up.” Alex’s gaze drops down to his lips and Henry feels a little lightheaded, but he’s got to know.
Henry clears his throat and fidgets. The rustle of the paper in his hand seems loud. “Do you only want to kiss me at midnight?” Henry asks. His hand shakes when sets the paper down on the coffee table.
“Fuck no,” Alex grabs for his hand, his thumbs caressing the back of it as he looks earnestly at Henry’s face. “I want to kiss you when we’re in the library, studying at our table. I want to kiss you during our movie nights, even when you’re wrong and have bad opinions about Christmas movies–Elf is a classic and I won’t hear anything to the contrary. I want to kiss you when we take David for a walk, even when you don’t let us stop to get a little treat.”
“Alex, an Americano with four espresso shots is not a little treat,” Henry protests.
“What I mean, sweetheart,” Alex continues. “I want to kiss you all the fucking time.”
There’s a stutter in Henry’s heartbeat. “Oh,” he breathes.
“What about you?” Alex asks. “Do you only–”
“What about me?” Henry interrupts. “Alex, I’ve wanted to kiss you the whole bloody time, since that very first day.”
“The whole time? Alex repeats, stunned.
“Yes, Alex, the whole time.” Henry shakes his head. “What about you, he says, like he doesn’t bloody know–”
Alex laughs and leans forward, pushing Henry back into the arm of the loveseat, hovering over him, his mouth only inches away from Henry’s. “Shut your mouth,” he says, grinning brightly. “I’m going to kiss you now.”
Alex leans down slowly, his nose brushing Henry’s as he brings their faces closer. When Alex presses his mouth to Henry’s, he’s smiling into the kiss. Henry kisses him back and pushes a hand into his hair, grabbing the dark curls in a tight grip. It makes Alex groan and push his hips into Henry's. Henry gasps, as Alex slides his tongue against his, and Henry can’t believe how bloody good it feels. It's both sweet and messy, and better than Henry thought it could ever be.
They kiss until they’re both breathless, panting and laughing, and Alex’s forehead rests on Henry’s as they try to catch their breath. From far away, they hear the sounds of the countdown to midnight and outside, Henry’s sure there’s fireworks exploding in the night sky. He doesn’t care about any of it.
Because when the clock strikes midnight, Henry and Alex kiss again and again. And Henry? Well, he no longer hates New Year’s Eve.