Then Came a Baby Boy with Long Eyelashes - sunflowerjpg - Red White & Royal Blue (2024)

Alex has a binder.

He’s had a binder since he was 12 years old and June wouldn’t share her binder with him because he’s a boy and he “simply wouldn’t get it.” Alex thought that was ridiculous because boys get married, too, so he decided to create his own Dream Wedding binder just to prove a point.

He dug through his old school supplies to find his fifth grade math binder, the one with a dog holding a thumbs up on the cover, and promptly emptied it out. It was inconspicuous, no one would know. It still lived under his bed for safe keeping, just a bit embarrassed by it.

It stayed relatively empty for a long while as Alex realized he had no frame of reference for what constituted a good wedding, let alone what he would want for his own future wedding. All that was in it was a single sheet of college ruled paper that said:

Alex’s Dream Wedding:

1. Find the perfect partner.

He was 14 years old when he added more to it after falling irrevocably in-love with Henry Fox. To Alex, love didn’t exist until Henry shyly handed him a jar of homemade cajeta—his parents had helped so it was perfectly edible, was the disclaimer—as a thank you for inviting him over for ice cream and movies. Who even does that? Alex had been so shocked by such a thoughtful act of kindness that it was miraculous he hadn’t ended up in the ER from all the flies he could have swallowed, what with his mouth hanging open for far too many minutes in that summer heat.

Henry had blushed and pushed his way into Alex’s home to avoid further scrutiny. Alex had the first draft of his wedding vows floating in his mind.

So, the list was amended and the binder gained traction again.

Alex’s Dream Wedding:

1. Find the perfect partner. Henry Fox.
2. Blue wedding theme—to match his eyes and the blue bonnet for texas pride
3. small ceremony at the lake house. henry complained about his cousin’s big wedding in england and said intimate weddings are so much better. i agree!
4. red velvet cake because it’s his favorite. maybe like 3 tiers, not too big. NO FONDANT. buttercream frosting is elite
5. suits… non traditional, maybe light blue and white
6. the person who proposes waits at the altar just to make it fair (it’ll be me)

And so on.

Even when Alex decided to not pursue Henry romantically, he would dig up the binder and staple business cards from floral shops and bakeries that he came across throughout his life, with annotations on their offerings and who to ask for, on random sheets of paper. By age 18, those flimsy notebook sheets were replaced by fancy cardstock with self-adhering film, pages he’d stolen from a photo album no longer in use.

The binder was thick, color coded, with a table of contents at the front where his original list once was. Of course he had heard of Pinterest and even considered creating a private Tumblr for it, but nothing beat being able to open his binder and knowing he could turn to page 14 for all the floral arrangement inspo photos he’d stolen from magazines or the internet.

By age 23, he thought he was a bit insane for still having this binder. Alex was sure Henry would never be his, especially after seeing all the men he’d go on dates with and invite into his bed. None of them resembled Alex, not even a little bit, which only meant he was so not Henry’s type.

It was a bit pathetic, but it made him happy. He could open the binder to page 52 where he’d find polaroids of stolen moments where Henry looked happy and carefree, imagining a future where Henry did love him back and would want to spend forever with Alex. It was his happy place.

Then, miraculously, at age 27, Henry did love him back.

At age 28, Henry proposed to him, with his father’s wedding ring.

And Alex has a binder. His dream wedding, a vision sixteen years in the making. But… It was his vision, not Henry’s.

After their engagement party, curled up together under the sheets, warm and sated, they decided to hold off on any wedding planning until after Henry’s book was released and Alex’s current case wrapped up. They wanted to be at liberty to focus on every nuance and detail of wedding planning, together.

“I better be dead if I’m not accompanying you to a taste testing or deciding how much baby’s breath is too much for all our floral arrangements,” Henry had stated firmly. It made wild butterflies erupt in Alex’s stomach to know their wedding was so deserving of Henry’s careful focus.

5 months later, a book tour successfully postponed until next Winter, and a decreased workload courtesy of Zahra, Alex and Henry were ready to discuss wedding plans.

And Alex has a binder.

It had taken him a year of being Henry’s well kept and beloved boyfriend, and a sentimental engagement ring permanently on his left ring finger, for Alex to feel confident that they were both walking at the same pace, towards the same goals. It was admittedly strange to be freed of the shackles of insecurity that had long convinced him he wasn’t good enough for his precious Henry, but it was mostly a great relief. Those lingering worries that this relationship was a free-trial with a looming expiration date ceased to exist, as if they had never been there in the first place. Rejection sensitivity dysphoria did not stand a chance against Henry’s impenetrable affections.

Henry loved him with all his quirks and flaws and high energy, even with his low energy and needier days. He was happy to receive and to provide, no request felt silly or insignificant. Henry was there, offering his love and tenderness with no strings attached.

Alex, impossibly, fell deeper in love with this perfect man.

Better yet, he knew he was enough. Not too much, not annoying, not overzealous. Alex Claremont-Diaz was perfect as he was, all for Henry's taking. In fact, Henry embraced how truly imperfect and human Alex was. He felt increasingly weightless since beginning his relationship with Henry, realizing he didn’t have to play pretend anymore or put on an act. He could just be and Henry would be right there to kiss his head and call him good—sometimes it was ‘good boy’ but that’s a different topic for a different day.

If anyone else thought him too anything, that was their problem. The only person Alex had anything to prove to was to himself and to Henry, and that was that.

As long as Henry existed, Alex would always know acceptance.

So, the binder.

“I have a binder,” Alex blurts out the second they’re comfortable on the couch with his abuela’s quilt over their laps, settled in to lay out the groundwork for their wedding.

They’re both dressed in ratty old clothing relegated to house pajamas, Alex has his glasses on—another new development, and maybe one he abuses a bit because the flush that covers Henry from head to toe when he sees Alex in his glasses is just too good to pass up—and Henry’s overgrown bangs are clipped back with pink hair clips that Martha had left behind during Christmas. Alex is contemplating pulling out the sheet masks while they’re at it. Maybe after dinner.

Henry turns his head to look at him curiously, lifting a brow to signal ‘go on.’

“I have. A binder. A Dream Wedding binder with ideas and suggestions. Maybe you’d like to look at it and we can curate it to our taste. If you hate everything about it, we can start from scratch,” Alex explains, feeling that telltale warmth creeping up his spine and up his neck despite the confidence he feels. It’s a little bit embarrassing to admit he’s had a perfect wedding with Henry envisioned since he was 14. It’s only mildly comforting that it’s probably one of the lesser unhinged things he’s done to show his devotion to Henry.

“It would mean a lot to me if you could take a look. Just to humor me, or whatever.” He finishes with a small sigh and a smile just too timid for someone whose dick has been inside Henry in every biological way possible—and who’s had Henry’s dick inside himself all of those same ways. This feels a bit more vulnerable than that.

Henry’s face twists further in confusion, yet his eyes sparkle in wonder. Not a drop of judgment mars his features, Alex relaxes a bit. This is his Henry, of course he’s not judging.

“Let’s see it, then,” is how he responds.

Alex is, of course, prepared for this response and pulls the binder out from under the couch like a poorly executed magic trick. Henry laughs in amusem*nt and laughs a bit more joyously when he opens said binder and flips through each page. Alex’s ears turn red.

“How long have you had this?”

“I’ll tell you but you have to pinky promise not to run for the hills or, like, have me committed.” Alex says very seriously.

“My love, I quite literally proposed to you. I thought it well established that I’m keeping you forever, even if it’s locked in a cage,” Henry responds easily, the corner of his lip that usually pinches in annoyance at the world quirks up in amusem*nt. Alex feels really good about that, leans forward to press his lips against it for emphasis. Henry laughs again, then turns his head to capture Alex’s lips in a proper kiss, all tender and soft. These are arguably his favorite kisses, the ones they exchange just because, no sexy ulterior motive lurking behind it.

Alex has also grown incredibly fond of the way Henry adds ‘my’ in front of every pet name, it makes him absolutely preen with pride. Yup, that’s him! Henry’s darling, Henry’s love, Henry’s.

Sorry, feminism, Alex does quite love being owned and claimed by this man. He promises to support the cause in other ways.

“I made this when I was twelve, but, uh, didn’t start filling it until fourteen…” He trails off as Henry gets to the end of the binder and pauses on that original list written in his chicken-scratch handwriting.

His fingers delicately trace bullet point one and when he meets Alex’s eyes, his own hold all the stars in the galaxy.

“I am utterly, devastatingly in love with you, Alex. This is so… Christ. I don’t even know. Not even Austen could come up with something this romantic.”

“So you don’t think I’m insane?”

“Oh, I do, you’re a proper nutter but it’s my favorite thing about you.”

Alex sets the binder on the coffee table, then climbs onto Henry’s lap and hugs his head to his chest. Gently. Henry’s own arms wind around Alex’s waist and squeeze him tightly.

“I f*cking love you.”

“Well, I’d hope so. You did say yes, after all.”

They get a bit distracted by an impromptu make out session that ends with Alex riding Henry slowly and deliberately on the couch, taking advantage of their position because when in Rome or whatever they say…

Minutes later, when they’re tucked back into their jammies and their bellies are stuffed full of pizza, Alex circles back to the binder.

“So, thoughts?”

“Ten out of ten, feel free to do that more often.”

Alex smacks Henry’s chest. “The binder, baby.”

“Oh! That! Yes, I quite like your ideas, my darling. We can definitely narrow down the floral options but I do quite like two of the suggestions. Maybe we hire one for the wedding party bouquets and the other for venue arrangements, yes?”

Alex scoots himself closer until he’s fully pressed up against Henry, squirming happily. A person more perfect for him than Henry simply does not exist.

“Although, I do have one small criticism,” Henry says as he puts the binder back on his lap and points to bullet point 6 on that original list. He smirks up at Alex smugly. It should be annoying but it’s so hot, he thinks he could ride Henry again in 30 minutes.

“You were quite confident at fourteen, hm? Yet, you’re the one with the ring.” Henry points out while bringing Alex’s hand up to his mouth.

“Motherf*cker! I have a ring! You—you stole my thunder because you couldn’t wait one more year! I HAVE A RING!” Alex argues with feeling, raising his voice as Henry falls back on the couch in a fit of laughter.

“What is it that you Americans say? Oh, right: You snooze, you lose, my love.”

“Do you f*cking want the ring or not, asshole?” Alex asks in faux annoyance. I mean, really, who could feel anything other than warm at the sound of Henry’s laughter and the sight of his gummy smile? Stronger men have tried and they have failed.

“As a matter of fact, I would. I want the physical reminder that I am betrothed to you.”

With a ring snuggly on Henry’s left ring finger and a second round of debauchery, the two agree to use ideas off the binder.

—

They decide on a late-May wedding to commemorate the date on Arthur’s letter to Alex, a way to renew his promise to fiercely love and protect Henry with all his might. It allows them to celebrate their birthdays as they normally would, then dive head first into wedding preparations all of April.

It is quite a time crunch, the burden significantly lessened by choosing the lake house as their wedding venue. Lucky for them, their friends and family have waited for this moment with bated breath just as well, and it becomes an all hands on deck situation.

Just like for their engagement party, all of their friends assist with making calls and scheduling their appointments. Alex has never been more grateful for Nora’s spreadsheets and itinerary making skills, keeping Alex and Henry on track and providing them with progress reports as they go. She could make a killing out of wedding planning, if she ever tires of her big corporate logistics job.

They do almost everything together except for suit fittings. Alex insisted on the tradition of the wedding dress reveal, wedding suits in their case. They split up so that Pez and Bea drag Henry off to a mystery tailor on Pez’s speed dial, while Nora and June take Alex to what he’s certain is a celebrity stylist.

Either way, Alex gets to have his yes to the dress! moment when the girls burst into tears the minute he steps onto the platform in his powder blue suit—Pantone 14-4214 TPX, according to the swatch he’d shown his stylist, per his binder—fitting him like a glove with minor alterations. If he cries, too, that’s his business.

In the end, everything is set and ready for the big day a week ahead of schedule.

They decide to forgo the traditional bachelor parties for a week of family bonding time leading up to the event, at his abuela’s insistence that she help any way she can. She suggests it’d be the perfect time for the Diaz clan to bless Henry with the family recipes and a choked up Henry agrees immediately. Abuela also suggests that it would be so much fun for the family to decorate and set the backyard, pergola and all, together. It would be so impersonal for some strangers in a moving crew to do it, she’d said.

Alex can tell she is using their strong family values for her own gain, he can see it in her mirthful eyes that she has some ulterior motive to get the clan involved, but he doesn’t know what it could be. No matter how hard he thinks about it, he can’t identify anything unreasonable or sinister about her intentions, so they agree. There’s no harm in it, really.

It’s how Henry finds himself alone with abuela, tia Lucinda, and prima Carmen in the kitchen, learning how to properly roll tamales while Alex runs around the yard with the kids, tasked with tiring them out.

It’s quite lovely, actually. They teach Henry step by step and never scold him when he makes a mistake. They throw in some tips about Alex’s preferences, too, along with some childhood stories. They gossip about such and such cousin’s ex-boyfriend getting some girl pregnant, about uncle Ramiro’s gambling problem, and about little Chris’s travel soccer. Even lovelier is when they try to teach him Spanish phrases.

Henry fights to keep his tears just under the surface, overwhelmed by all the kindness and acceptance these ladies have shown him. All of the Diazes have been nothing but friendly towards him, easily adopting him as if he were their own flesh and blood.

“You’ve always been family but a marriage seals the deal, mijo,” Oscar pointed out when he’d caught Henry trying to subtly wipe a stray tear away.

“Uno de nosotros, an honorary Diaz,” abuela had easily agreed.

They couldn’t possibly understand the magnitude of their acceptance. Henry, who had grown up fairly estranged from his family after his father’s death allowed his villainous grandmother to poison his surviving family. Only her untimely death 6 years ago had removed the shroud of darkness and allowed them all to be close again. As much as Pip’s misguided bigotry growing up had hurt Henry, he was happy to have mended that bridge after extensive therapy and two years worth of groveling, all from Pip’s side of the aisle.

Here were the Diazes, accepting him easily for everything he was. He felt like he understood Alex a lot better, like he’d found a misplaced puzzle piece and slotting it in place made the image so clear. Everything else fell into place easily.

Alex’s caring nature and general loving demeanor, even in the face of his parent’s divorce, had the space to grow in abuela’s house. Henry might even argue that’s who nurtured it. He’d be forever indebted to these people. His people, now.

As the tamales are placed in the pot and Henry gets assigned to dishes duty, he has a front row view out into the backyard where Alex and David are keeping all of the kids entertained. There’s a toddler in particular, can’t be older than five, that attaches themselves to Alex’s leg as if physically adhered to him. They have wild, untamed curls, dressed in blue overals and a yellow tshirt. Alex lifts the child into his arms, holding them on one hip to keep his other hand free, so the bigger kids don’t trample them in whatever game they’re currently engaged in.

The child whispers something in his ear that causes him to burst into raucous laughter, uninhibited and so damn happy. Henry’s heart stutters in his chest at the sight.

He’s reminded of Alex’s comment about babies for David to play with, a joke about two kids and a brownstone. Henry’s very bones ache with desire, stealing his breath away like a punch to the gut.

This feeling had existed for a while, theoretical and in the back of his mind. Seeing Alex wrangle Pip’s children over Christmas had pushed the thought to the forefront of his mind. Wedding planning had distracted him, but now this feeling sits at the surface, impossible to ignore.

A new ache grows in his chest. His stomach tumbles uncomfortably, a warning to halt that train of thought immediately. Henry sighs wistfully, drawing everyone’s attention back to him.

It’s abuela who speaks up first, “What ails you, mi niño?”

“Oh, nothing, I…” he snaps his eyes away from Alex and the kids, meeting abuela’s kind eyes instead. He tries for a smile.

“Ni que, tell me what’s wrong. You’re not having doubts, are you?”

Henry shakes his head vehemently and sets down the plate in his hands quickly before he can break it. “Absolutely not. This is the surest I’ve been in my life.”

“Entonces que?” Carmen asks at his side, pushing a mug of tea into his wet hands and escorting him away from the sink. They all make their way to the kitchen table. Henry notes the cups of coffee in various shades of brown, it causes him to smile. Perhaps Alex’s coffee addiction is more hereditary than he thought.

“It’s… It’s so silly, really. I’m a bit worried about the potential of children in the future.” Henry admits quietly, staring down into his tea. He swears he hears a gasp but it’s quickly covered by Lucinda speaking up.

“You don’t want kids?”

“I do. I want that with him. A family. I’m worried that…”

“Does he not want kids?”

“Have you two spoken about it? Communication is important for a marriage to last, you know. Julio and I—“

“Si, si, Lucinda. Sabemos. Deja que el chamaco hable.” Abuela interrupts. Henry sort of wishes Lucinda kept going. The spotlight feels a bit intimidating.

“We haven’t had a conversation about it, not really, but he has mentioned kids before. I think we both want it. Adoption seems the most reasonable, given my involvement with my friend’s shelter and all the family cases Alex takes on. We both feel very passionate about helping and caring for underprivileged children.”

“Entonces?” Carmen asks, not yet understanding Henry’s current predicament.

He ducks his head, afraid of the reaction when he admits, “Frankly, I’m quite afraid he will come to resent me if we can’t have children that are biologically his.”

The women all make sounds of understanding and sympathy.

“What about surrogacy?” Carmen points out, which is quite a valid point, yet..

“Alex is so stubborn, I fear he’ll fight me about whose sperm should be used. He would want it to be mine out of some chivalrous sense of duty but I want it to be his. A baby with his features, his kind heart. I want… Christ, I sound like a loon. I would be so happy with children however we have them.” He shakes his head in disbelief at himself, a humorless laugh tumbling past his lips.

Henry braves meeting the gazes of the women around him, who have given him the space to freely talk about his worries without mocking him. He finds them exchanging glances with each other, something a bit mischievous in their eyes and their secretive smiles. He doesn’t bother trying to understand what it means. Later, he’ll wish he had paid more attention.

“I’m letting the anxiety talk in my ear, aren’t I?” He finally says after a prolonged silence without any of them talking.

Abuela reacts by placing a gentle hand on the back of his head and petting him kindly. It’s a gesture he recognizes all too well, something Alex does to soothe Henry when his mind gets too dark and his heart feels too cold. It eases all of the tension right out of his body. He can ignore the barely there pinch at the base of his skull, dismissing it as the first signs of a headache.

Lucinda takes Henry’s half-empty mug and claims it’s cooled off too much, off to prepare a new one. Carmen takes a hold of one of Henry’s hands and squeezes it.

“I think you are, but your concerns are valid. Talk to him. If there’s anything I know with certainty about you two, it’s that you’ll make the choice that is the most right for you.” Carmen says kindly.

“The universe always seeks to reward those who deserve it, mi niño. In fact, I have a feeling that Our Lady of Guadalupe will also smile upon you.” Abuela adds on. She reaches across the table to pluck a white rose out of the centerpiece and tucks it behind Henry’s ear. Then, she kisses his forehead. It’s all so unexpectedly tender that Henry feels tears gather along his waterline.

Lucinda returns with a fresh mug of tea and encourages him to drink it all. Henry thinks it tastes a bit funny, certainly different than the comforting chamomile from before. The women exchange another look before Lucinda quickly assures him it’s an old family recipe meant to ease anxieties and quiet the mind. She mentions it has lavender, which Henry assumes accounts for the taste he can’t quite place. He dutifully finishes up his tea just as the timer indicates the tamales are ready.

“Vaya, go tell everyone the tamales are ready.”

The second Henry steps outside, he is lifted and twirled around by a laughing Alex, strong arms securely around his waist.

“There’s my handsome fiancé. I thought they’d kidnapped you in there,” Alex jokes while setting Henry back on the ground just so he can kiss him full on the lips. The kids all groan and shout ‘eww!’ in the background. It only makes Henry smile into the kiss.

“Worry not, they took good care of me. I was christened as an honorary Diaz.”

Alex laughs loud and unabashedly. “That’s right. In two days time, you’ll be Henry Claremont-Diaz-Fox.” Alex briefly thinks not even a natural disaster could wipe the smile off his face, at this point. His joy is unbridled, a wild horse in endless fields. He has to actively fight off daydreams of standing at the altar with Henry because his body cannot physically process those feelings just yet.

Henry flushes beautifully at the name, blinking back more unexpected tears. He should just accept that he’ll be very emotional this whole weekend. Alex notices, of course, and peppers kisses all over his face. He would keep going if it weren’t for the small child tugging at his shorts.

“Yes, linda?”

“Tamales.”

“Oh, right, that’s what I came here to do. It’s time to eat, everyone,” Henry says as loudly as he can, watching in fascination as the kids immediately drop what they’re doing and run inside the house, quickly followed by the adults.

“Abuela’s tamales are no joke,” one of the teens comments to Henry as they walk past him.

“I hope they feel the same when they realize I helped,” Henry jokes to Alex.

“They won’t get a chance to find out. Baby’s first tamales are all for me.”

Henry rolls his eyes and bites back a smile, “Greedy.”

Alex winks at him and smacks his ass, “You already knew that, though,” and breezes past Henry into the house.

—

Everyone insists they uphold the tradition of sleeping apart the night before the wedding, so they only have themselves to blame when Alex pulls Henry into the bathroom at midnight and takes his fill. Everyone else is deep in their REM cycle while Alex eats Henry out, pressed up against the shower tiles, like it’s his last meal.

“Couldn’t wait until the honeymoon, dear?” Henry manages through a groan as Alex pushes his slick co*ck into him. He has Henry pinned against the wall with his legs draped over Alex’s arms for leverage. He uses gravity to his advantage by lifting Henry off his co*ck and letting him drop back down as far as he can go.

Alex attaches his mouth to Henry’s collarbones, leaving marks only the two of them will know exist. He’d left several more all over his thighs and his tummy, never one to pass up the chance to thoroughly debauch his fiancé.

“Something about sneaky premarital sex is kinda fun, no?” He asks against Henry’s skin. “Plus, sleeping away from you is punishment. This will tire me out.”

Henry isn’t exactly complaining.

He doesn’t complain in the morning, either, when he looks at his naked reflection and is met with a collage of love bites in various shades of red and purple all over his body. He feels a sick sense of satisfaction knowing Alex’s back is not faring any better.

He’s just buttoning up his shirt when Pez and Bea waltz into the room and stop at the sight of his chest. Bea shakes her head and Pez laughs, commenting, “That’s certainly a choice for something blue,” with a smirk. He’s certainly not referring to the shirt.

Henry ignores them to continue getting ready.

It’s while Bea brushes his hair that Ellen walks into the room. Their eyes meet through the mirror and he swears there are tears there.

“Hi, sugar. I thought I’d bring your something new.”

In her hands is a boutonnière, a single white rose with a few blue hydrangeas. Upon closer inspection, he notes they are dried flowers.

“I’m cheating, a bit. This was made from my own wedding bouquet I had preserved,” she explains as she pins the boutonnière to Henry’s lapel. When their eyes meet, he comes to understand that she means her first wedding.

His face must do something incredibly complicated because she laughs and gently cups his cheek. “I know Alex has very complex feelings about marriage, after the divorce and all of the fallout. I know we caused some damage that no apologies will mend, but somehow he didn’t lose the fantasy of true love. Witnessing the way you love him these past few days, I get it. This is my gift to you: A white rose for new beginnings and blue hydrangeas for gratitude.” She ends it by planting a tender kiss on his forehead, kind in a way only a mother is capable of.

All Henry can do in response is blink back tears and mutter a soft ‘thank you.’ He wonders if Alex is experiencing a similar talk with Catherine. It wouldn’t surprise Henry if the two women colluded to do this, it would explain his mum’s insistence of taking a red eye to be here as early as possible.

She gives him one last hug, then is gone just as she came. Henry needs to take a few minutes to recalibrate his emotions. Bea and Pez seem to catch the hint and also exit the room after giving him their own hugs and kisses.

Henry feels so loved, yet his heart yearns for Alex. He begrudges him for wanting to be traditional and withhold seeing each other until they’re standing at the altar. He feels like only a hug from Alex could calm his nerves and all the thoughts swarming in his brain like bees.

As if summoned telepathically, his phone begins to ring. He sees the name on the screen and immediately answers it.

“My love,” Henry breathes out and feels some of the tension ease up.

“Baby. How are you holding up?”

“Good. Great. Nervous? I really want to see you.”

“Bad nervous?” Alex asks quietly. Henry can feel the trepidation in his voice.

“Never. More like, ‘I can’t believe I am actually, legally, marrying the absolute love of my life in about 20 minutes’ nervous.” Henry releases a breath and smiles at the sound of Alex’s laugh through his speaker.

“Well, believe it because it’s happening. You better not leave me waiting at the altar, mister.”

Now it’s Henry’s turn to laugh, “Seeing as I’ll be the one waiting for you, that won’t be possible.”

“Do you think anyone will be mad if I kiss you the second I see you?”

“Mmm, probably, but I’d like it if you did it anyway. I miss you, Alex. I’m not at all fond of knowing you’re in a room just down the hall and I can’t be there with you.”

“Yeah. Let’s never do that again. I’ll handcuff us together, remove the possibility of being apart altogether. Oh—“ there’s rustling in the background, then a muffled, “hi Nora. Wait.” Alex’s voice is clear once again as he says, “I’m told this is against the rules, too, so I gotta go. Bye, baby. Don’t forget to say I do! I love you, say it back.”

“I love you, too. See you soon.”

Henry hangs up not a second too early, as Catherine waltzes right into the room then and tells Henry it’s time to go. As they’re walking the halls together, arm in arm, Catherine turns a fond smile at her son and kisses his cheek.

“I’m proud of you, darling.”

“For what?”

“Finding happiness and not allowing it to slip away. We always knew Alex was the perfect match for you. Arthur would be so relieved…” she trails off as she feels herself get a bit emotional, shaking her head to dispel the emotions. “I’m so happy.”

Henry is convinced everyone is out to get him. They want him red-nosed and puffy-eyed for his wedding photos, even before his groom walks down the aisle. He does have to stop them just before stepping outside to give her a tight hug. Their relationship hasn’t been perfect but, just as Philip had, therapy and forgiveness had mended that bridge, too.

The thought of not having his mother here, either, hurts enough to make the forgiveness come much more easily. “I’m so glad you’re present, mum,” he says sincerely and allows her to interpret that however she sees fit.

His nerves fully override all of his systems, he barely remembers walking down the aisle to the pergola. He doesn’t react to Percy’s hand grabbing his shoulder in encouragement, he doesn’t acknowledge the officiant, he barely makes out Bea’s guitar in the background. His vision blurs until Emi, his niece, makes her way down with a basket of petals that she sprinkles generously in front of her as she walks. Henry’s eyes lock on the figure a few steps behind her, dressed in a light blue tux like the one in the binder mood board.

Curls he’s grown used to seeing in all variations of messy and relaxed are perfectly styled, not a coil out of place. Those dimples he adores so much are on full display as Alex grins back at Henry, eyes filled with so much love. Henry’s own immediately fill with tears and he must make an audible sound because Alex laughs that gorgeous carefree melody, and every fiber of Henry’s muscles thrum with the need to touch. He doesn’t spare Ellen and Oscar a glance, he can’t. Henry only has eyes for his Alex.

It’s relieving that Alex seems to feel the same, as he frees himself from his parents’ arms and runs the last few steps towards Henry, jumping into his arms. Henry reacts in autopilot, hugging Alex tightly to his chest and burying his nose against his curls, filling up all of his senses with AlexAlexAlex.

“Baby,” Alex breathes out against his neck. He squeezes Henry tightly before reluctantly pulling away. “You’re here. We’re really doing this, huh?”

“As soon as you let our officiant get this show on the road, at least,” Henry responds playfully, unable to bite back a grin. Every unreasonable doubt, courtesy of his anxiety, is thoroughly put in their place in the face of Alex’s excitement and sparkling eyes.

They’re here because they both want this, forever. Deeply devoted to each other.

The officiant clears his throat at that and their wedding guests laugh, unsurprised by Alex’s antics. He quickly pecks Henry’s lips then steps back to his designated spot, Nora and June at his back.

When it comes to vows, Alex had demanded to go first. He explains his intentions quite early.

“Henry. I asked to go first because I know the words of a writer will be difficult to out-do and I won’t have you stealing my thunder a second time,” the crowd laughs and Henry fondly rolls his eyes. He squeezes Alex’s hands where they’re held in between their bodies. “You’ve been the man of my dreams since I was 14 years old and barely understood the concept of love. My experience with it had been undercut insults and slammed doors from my parents, and stolen kisses in the kitchen and private conversations through a single look from your parents. I thought love existed in only one of two ways, but what I felt for you was different. It was tender and delicate. It was wanting to bottle up all of your smiles, lists of all your favorite things so if you were ever sad I’d know exactly how to cure it, sitting by your side as you read your favorite books and quoted your favorite lines out loud. I wanted so badly to take your hand and kiss you to find out how’d you react. I wanted so much, but then I made a promise to you and Arthur that I would protect you no matter what.

I thought that meant storing my big feelings into a box and putting them away in a closet, somewhere you’d never find them. I didn’t want to burden you with my love because it’s not what you needed then, and I was never good at doing things by halves. I spent 15 years protecting our friendship because I’d rather have Henry Fox’s smiles and snarky remarks over not having you by my side at all. And because abuela made a decent Catholic out of me, every night, I would pray.

I prayed that you found happiness. I prayed that your mind could find peace and quiet so you’d realize how f*cking wonderful you are and achieve that greatness you were destined for. I prayed that you would meet someone who could love you completely, as you are, someone who would cherish you and make it their life’s mission to make you laugh. I prayed,” Alex pauses to take a deep breath here, a slight tremor to his voice, “I prayed that you would love me back. I asked every star and every deity willing to listen to pretty please let Henry Fox see me and think I was worthy of him. I begged and begged to be the one who could protect your beautiful, kind heart and also kiss your nose when you were acting cute and hold you tight when the dark days were too heavy.

I prayed I could one day tell you I love you and even if you didn’t accept it, didn’t accept me, you would still stay by my side. I can’t imagine a life without you, Henry. I would have rather watched you build a life with someone else than let you go.

At least, I thought I could, and then a soccer ball rattled my brain so hard that it decided no, I actually can’t watch you love someone else without even trying to do it myself. I wrote the handbook on how to love Henry Fox, I should try to use it before I hand it off to someone less deserving of you. And then, by some miracle, you said you’d loved me all along. I think I breathed properly for the first time, then.

I had been worried that once you saw me for all I am, you would decide we were better off as friends, and I would be forever grateful that I had the chance to give you my love at full force. It would have been enough to be loved by you even for one day. Thankfully, you decided that you want to love me every single day for the rest of our lives.”

Alex lets go of one of Henry’s hands to wipe at his eyes, chuckling wetly.

“You decided I was worthy of loving and caring for you, and deserving of all your love right back. I just—I love you so f*cking much, Henry. You’re my happily ever after, I’ve always known it. I am so so blessed that you think so, too. I promise you, and to Arthur looking over you from Orion, that I will love you fiercely and protect you with everything in me for as long as we live. To cherish, to hold, to bully when eggshells make it into your “perfect” batch of quiches,”

“Hey—“ Henry begins his protest with reddened cheeks, glistening with the tears that spilled over against his will, the crowd laughing again.

“To love every single day of our lives, through the brightest days and the darkest nights. It’s you and me, baby. Forever.”

Henry can’t help himself, he draws Alex back into his arms and holds him tight, tradition be damned. This boy that loved him so deeply but held back for so long, for Henry’s sake, deserves to know those feelings are reciprocated at full force. Henry vows to not let another second more pass without Alex knowing he is the most precious person to Henry. They’re forced to step back again by the officiant prompting Henry to say his vows.

“My dearest Alex, finding the words adequate to describe the depth of my love for you has proven near impossible. Call it the die-hard romantic in me, but I believe our souls are intrinsically connected. You are, simply put, my soulmate and even that doesn’t properly convey how drawn to you I am. Every cell, every atom that makes me was made to love you. As long as Alex Claremont-Diaz exists, so too shall my heart beat and my lungs draw air.

You are so wonderful, a marvel of this earth. I remember when we first met. You were a stubborn little thing, claiming we’d be the bestest of friends even before we’d exchanged names. You scared me, a bit,” Henry admits with a chuckle. Alex whines at that, while Henry’s siblings laugh because they remember that day just as clear. “I ran away then because I didn’t understand that the pull of my heart towards yours was simply inevitable. It didn’t stop you from finding me again and again and again until my defenses were torn down.

I was terrified, for a long time, that my love for you would burn me to a crisp, as I’m no Phoenix. If I loved you and you didn’t love me back, there would be no coming back from that. However, it was all in vain as you started rebuilding the walls around my heart anew with you inside the enclosure. You selflessly protected me, for so many years. You’ve always put my desires, my well-being, my happiness, above your own. It took me so long but now I’m here to fulfill all of your needs, too, my darling. My happiness is you, Alex.

I must go off-script here a bit to question how you could ever think I could be on the receiving end of your love and not want it for myself forevermore? There is not a single universe in which a Henry Fox is born and he doesn’t fall irrevocably in love with an Alex Claremont-Diaz. In every timeline, in every life, it’s you and me. I vow my eternal gratitude and devotion to every deity that blessed me with the fortune of loving you openly in this life, Alex. It’s my turn to promise to protect your every smile, to comfort your every doubt, to hold you when the days are too long, to kiss you just because I can and you’re mine… and yes, I will continue to make crunchy quiches until they’re perfect because I know you’ll eat them anyways. I love you,” he finishes off with a kiss to Alex’s ring finger, soon to be decorated by two physical forms of commitment.

Henry can hear sniffling all around him but he can’t look away from Alex before him, a steady stream of tears wetting his cheeks and the most radiant smile he has ever seen. He cups Alex’s cheek with one hand to dry his tears, not caring at all that a photo might be ruined.

Artie steps up, then, with their wedding bands twinkling brightly on the holder. Alex looks like he’s a second away from vibrating out of his skin. He takes Henry’s ring first and holds his hand deliberately, his own shaking.

“Henry, with this ring I devote myself to you for the rest of eternity and beyond. You are the great love of my life. I promise to continue taking care of you. You and me,” Alex repeats as he finally slips the ring on. Henry physically bites back a sob.

When it’s his turn to do the same, he says, “My darling Alex, with this ring I remind you that there has ever only been you for me. No matter what the universe puts before us, I will hold your hand so we can fight together. You and me.”

The officiant follows that up with, “I pronounce you husband and husband, you may now—“ but Alex is in Henry’s arms, kissing him through tears and a smile that is impossible to get rid of. They kiss and kiss and kiss to the sound of their loved ones cheering and David barking.

Alex pulls away just to rest his forehead against Henry’s.

“Hi, husband.”

Embarrassingly, Henry sobs again and crushes Alex to his chest. “Hello, husband. My Alex Claremont-Diaz-Fox. I love you.”

Alex rubs Henry’s back gently, always offering comfort even while his own tears stain Henry’s shoulder. They only pull apart when June says, “Come on, boys, we have so much to celebrate!”

—

At their reception, Henry watches with an ounce of envy and longing as Alex dances with all three of his parents, one by one. He knows no one is to blame for cancer taking Arthur so soon but he can’t help the ache in his chest. Henry is comforted by the fact that he can be honest with Alex about how he feels and he’ll receive nothing but support in return.

When it’s his turn to dance with Catherine, he is confused when she steps away only one third through the song. His confusion upgrades to full shock as Philip takes her place, face uncharacteristically red.

Philips clears his throat and says, “I made a promise to dad, too. I told him I would step up and take care of you all, so he could go in peace. I haven’t… I haven’t fulfilled that promise well but I’d like to start now, if you’ll allow me.”

There’s too much love in Henry’s heart to say anything but yes, dancing a bit awkwardly with his brother. They’re interrupted by Bea running up to them and pulling them into a group hug.

They’re interrupted a second time by Oscar, who says, “Mind if I cut in, too? I don’t call you mijo for nothing, kid.”

The Fox siblings easily step away and allow Henry a real father-son dance. He can’t help but glance over Oscar’s shoulder to find Alex, who holds onto June for dear life as he openly cries. They share wobbly smiles across the floor.

When it’s finally their turn to share their first dance as husbands, they’re teary, giggly messes. They can’t help themselves, really. Marriage was both an inevitability and the biggest improbability of their lives, given their fear of tainting the wonderful relationship they already had. Henry may always regard this as a precious miracle.

“You need to stop crying, our photos will turn out terrible,” Alex tells him while gently brushing the tears off his cheeks, which are cradled in his hands.

Henry just laughs, his own hands holding Alex’s hips. “You first.”

“Can’t, I’m too f*cking happy. My limbic system is fried. My only setting is tears, like one of those cry baby dolls.”

“I can certainly hug and cuddle you until you make cute baby noises,” Henry jokes. Though, to be fair, he isn’t totally against stealing Alex away to just hold. Maybe they can start their honeymoon early.

“Definitely need hugging right now. f*ck, you’re my husband. Forever and ever and ever,” Alex says with a hiccup that sounds suspiciously like a sob but his eyes crinkle in that beautiful way they do when he smiles like the world is perfect.

“You’re my husband, all mine.” Henry agrees, pulling Alex flush against his body and kissing him hungrily. He feels Alex’s arms wrap around his neck to pull him in closer. The crowd disappears, the sounds around them mute. In this moment, it’s just them.

Nothing has changed, not really. Their love for one another is not stronger because of some rings and a legally binding document. It’s only the slightly possessive part of his brain that preens because Alex chose him to share his life with. Henry will never spend another sleepless night wondering when his fairytale may come to an end, will never be plagued with every scenario in which he must watch Alex love someone else.

He knows Alex means every word he says. Stubborn. Hard headed. Passionate. Kind hearted. Lovely. Henry plans to treasure him, ensure he knows he made the right choice when he gave Henry his heart. Henry has probably had it all along, since they were 14, and didn’t treat it with the care it deserves because he was too blind to see. He reminds himself to hold Alex a little tighter every night and kiss him more gently to make up for it.

“Thank you for not giving up on me, my love.” Henry whispers as he presses their foreheads together.

“Thank you for being patient, for waiting.” Alex responds just before their song ends and the DJ spins something more upbeat and lively for all their guests to join them on their makeshift dance floor.

In typical Mexican fashion, according to Alex and every other cousin Henry greets, they dance and celebrate until 1 AM. Henry dances with every tia and prima, dances with his own nephew and niece, and of course dances with Pez.

He loses track of Alex for a second in all of the shuffle, finally spotting him by the dessert table with Philip at his side. Henry is just about to step in when he sees the two men hug. It feels like a bloody mirage, that. If not for Pez at his back, Henry may have fainted.

“You think he’ll disclose who his therapist is? She’s quite the miracle worker,” Pez jokes.

“D’you think our bartender is into the dark magics and has secretly been mixing potions?” Henry quips back.

“Oh, get off it, you two. It’s Alex’s charm against an immovable object. Newton’s first,” Bea chimes in as she steps up to Henry’s other side.

Alex feels eyes on him, turns to look out in confusion and breaks into a smile when he spots Henry.

“I can see his tail wagging from here, go.” Pez says with a gentle shove to Henry’s back. He doesn’t need to be told twice.

Like two magnets attracted to each other, both men crash into each other’s arms. Henry should probably feel a bit more embarrassed by how desperate he feels to be in Alex’s constant orbit, given they live together and are truly not that codependent but he probably deserves a pass today.

“Lovely wedding, wanna call it a night?” Alex asks when they pull apart just so their eyes can meet. Henry can see a spark of something more lascivious behind all the joy.

“Oh, yes, I am feeling rather sluggish. Must be all the tears, all the dancing, it truly takes it out of a man,” Henry agrees solemnly, nodding along.

In the end, they enlist June and Nora’s help to help them tactfully wind the night down. Their relatives file out without a fuss, some stopping to greet the new husbands one last time.

Abuela, Lucinda, and Carmen take turns giving both boys hugs and kisses. Abuela cryptically says, “Buena suerte, mis niños. It won’t take long, you’ll see. Que Dios los bendiga.”

Carmen adds, “Walnuts help! Vitamin D and C, too. Bendiciones!”

“Tonight will have the highest success rate though, so get to it while you’re still so young and energetic,” Lucinda tacks on before the three join their respective families to leave.

Alex and Henry exchange confused looks, neither fully understanding what they’re going on about. One too many margaritas, probably.

Thankfully, everyone who had previously been boarding at the lake house arranged other accommodations, respecting the sanctity of the first night as newlyweds.

Finally, it’s just Alex, Henry, and a tired David that happily trots back inside the house to sleep the excitement away. Both men turn to look at each other. There’s a look in Alex’s eyes that Henry knows, from far too much experience, spells out nothing but trouble.

Suddenly, Alex grabs his hand and makes a run for it, dragging Henry just to the edge of the dock. It’s so dark, only the waning moon lights their path.

“You absolutely insane person, what are we doing?”

“Skinny dipping by moonlight as husbands!” Alex says like it’s the most obvious thing in the world, all while unbuttoning his suit jacket and undoing his tie. Henry shakes his head but follows suit, stripping all the way down to his bare skin. He was never able to deny Alex a thing, much less now that he has committed under oath to do whatever keeps him happy.

The water is the right amount of cold as they jump in, hand in hand. The sound of singing crickets and Alex’s laughter fill the night air. Henry’s heart feels far too big in his chest.

“You just couldn’t wait to get me naked, hm?” Henry jokes as he brushes back Alex’s wet curls off his forehead.

“Wait. Sex in the lake. Why have we never done that?” Alex asks very seriously with his hands on Henry’s hips. His fingers purposely press into bruises he’d left behind just last night, just on the dip of Henry’s hips. It makes Henry hiss.

“Probably because there’s a perfectly comfortable bed inside, you reprobate. Surely you can wait.”

“I don’t know, Hen… I did warn you I’d need to consummate our marriage post haste. My brain may have been rattled at the time but the sentiment stands.”

How could Henry forget? It was only the beginning of the strangest yet most wonderful days of his life.

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆

“What if I said I’m in a pillow princess sort of mood?” Henry presses his body flush against Alex’s and hikes a leg up so that his knee rests against the other’s hip, barely rolling his hips in a way he knows will drive Alex absolutely mad. He has to bite back a smile when Alex’s big hand immediately grips his thigh, fingertips pressed just into the fleshiest part. The surprised curse he lets out under his breath is music to Henry.

Henry leans close enough to whisper into his ear, “I want my strong, sexy husband to rail me so thoroughly the dock threatens to break. I want to feel you cumming inside me, I want to feel it spilling out when you’re done.” He feels Alex’s co*ck fill with every word, the head pressed against his perineum due to the angle of Henry’s leg. Alex growls just under his breath and tucks his head to sink his teeth into Henry’s shoulder. “Will you be a good boy and do that for me, my darling?” Henry asks as innocently as he can despite sounding breathy and whiny from the sting of Alex’s teeth.

Alex takes the bait, hitching up Henry’s other leg so he can wrap both around his hips. He sits Henry on the dock just long enough to haul himself out, then gently pushes him onto his back.

“It won’t be very comfortable, sweetheart. I can take you inside, if you want,” Alex mutters against his skin amongst the open mouthed kisses he trails from Henry’s jaw down to his chest, where he takes a hardened nipple into his mouth. Despite saying that, he spreads Henry’s legs apart to make room for himself between them. He presses the pad of his middle finger against Henry’s rim, circling it without making any attempts to breach him. “No lube either,” he points out.

“In my jacket,” is Henry’s quick response as he lifts his hips to encourage Alex to continue. He tuts in response and pulls his finger back without breaking contact.

“You came prepared, doll. Were you secretly hoping I’d sneak you out and f*ck you while our party was in full swing?”

Henry just nods repeatedly, no use in pretending otherwise. If he behaves, he knows he’ll get exactly what he wants from Alex. Henry looks down at him with fluttering lashes and tangles his fingers in the messy, wet curls. He encourages Alex to continue sucking on his chest by slightly arching his back while gently pressing his head closer.

“Yes, yes, but you were too busy dancing with everyone. You weren’t paying your shiny, new husband enough attention,” Henry accuses as he squirms under Alex, whose kisses have turned into bites. He purposely revisits the more faint love bites from last night, sucking and biting until they’re bright and easily seen from outer space.

“I’m sorry, dear husband,” Alex coos while making his way back up his body to kiss all over his face and lips instead. “I will give you all my attention now, all honeymoon. What do you want?”

Alex leans his entire weight on one arm resting next to Henry, gently trailing his other fingers from his wrist, up to his shoulder, and down his abdomen. He stops his path at Henry’s pelvis to play with the patch of hair there he’s become utterly obsessed with, but not moving any lower. Henry’s hips twitch and he gasps at the ghost touch on his fully erect co*ck.

“I want your fingers inside me, please.” One hand tugs unkindly at Alex’s hair, pulling him into a kiss that’s open mouthed and all tongue. He revels in the curses and groans Alex lets out, a tune only for his ears.

Henry whines when Alex pulls entirely away, it forces him to sit up to glare at him. The bastard just laughs but waves a small packet from where he was rummaging through their pile of clothes. He takes his time reading it just to torture Henry.

“Hydroxyethylcellulose-based? How fancy.”

Alex laughs again and quickly returns to his rightful place in between Henry’s thigh when the blond glares at him and starts turning his back on Alex. He’s stopped by a firm grip on his hip and pinned flushed on his back against the dock. Henry can’t help staring up at Alex with wide eyes and parted lips.

“You look like f*cking sin, baby. I’ll give you everything you want if you ask kindly,” he says while pushing one of Henry’s legs as far apart as it will go. Henry misses when Alex opens the pack to cover his fingers with the lube, knows it’s happened because a slick finger circles his rim a few times before it slips inside. His own hands reach out to touch Alex’s chest and shoulders.

Henry smirks a bit as his hand dips low enough to circle his fingers around Alex’s co*ck, preening at how wet it already feels. He doesn’t need any lube to stroke him smoothly, slowly, purposely teasing. He squeaks when Alex’s finger curls inside of him, already pressing against his prostate.

“Ahh-lex!” He whines, hips bucking up erratically as Alex shallowly thrusts his finger to purposely hit that bundle of nerve every time. It doesn’t distract him from his own ministrations, doesn’t prevent him from running his thumb along the head to collect as much pre-cum off it. It definitely doesn’t keep him from bringing that hand up to his own mouth, licking his fingers clean. Henry maintains eye contact the whole time, delighting in the hungry, dangerous eyes Alex regards him with.

Henry loves this part of intimacy with Alex, where they push and pull and fight for dominance. Alex has proudly admitted to being a service top, ready to do whatever it takes to pleasure him. Henry often takes advantage of this because there is nothing more delicious than this Adonis of a man controlling his sheer strength just to give Henry exactly what he needs, making him beg to touch and bring him to org*sm.

Most of the time, Henry is begging to be treated roughly, Alex’s personal plaything. Just like tonight, where he’s asking to be railed to next Sunday. He loves relinquishing control of his autonomy because he knows Alex would never hurt him, trusts him with his whole heart. If the sex is rough, the aftercare is all soft touches and tender kisses, whispered praises in his ears.

Sometimes, Alex fights back. Sometimes, he thinks Henry is acting too bratty and spoiled to get his way without earning it first. He’ll still give Henry whatever he asks for but he takes his time with it, uses gentle touches with meaner words. Henry really likes that, too.

Alex’s fingers slip all the way out and return with two, alternating between spreading apart to properly stretch him and pistoning in and out at a leisurely pace. Henry can feel those fingers deep, causing tingles to run down his back. He loves how full they make him feel, how easily Alex can turn him into a drooling, sobbing mess with his fingers alone. Henry swears they’re thicker and longer than some of the men he’d taken back in college.

“More, please, darling. You’re being mean,” he whines pitifully because no matter how often he rolls his hips up to meet his fingers, Alex refuses to speed up. It’s torture.

“It’s our first night as husbands, my sweet baby. Let me take my time with you.” Alex kisses his cheek and nuzzles his nose. It’s such a drastic difference to the way he slides a third finger into Henry, filling the air with squelching noises and Henry’s breathy moans. All Henry can do is look for purchase on Alex’s biceps, with his fingernails digging into the firm muscles.

“Plus,” he continues with his fingers buried deep inside Henry, “I know how much you love it when I f*ck you like a little slu*t after treating you like my precious princess first.”

Henry nearly blacks out from the words alone, his whole body burning up in anticipation. Alex just knows him too well. He mewls pathetically in agreement, chanting, “Yesyesyesyes, please,” and lifts his hips for a better angle. He knows that means he won’t get his way, no matter how much he begs for it, but it doesn’t stop him from trying.

“I’m yours, you can do whatever you want. I belong to you, made for you,” he babbles with his head tipped back. Alex takes that as an invitation to attach his mouth to his neck, teeth gently grazing the skin just shy of sinking in. Henry tries to play nice, too, gently running his fingernails along Alex’s shoulder blades and whatever part of his back he can reach. He knows Alex loves that, loves being treated like a delicate little thing despite his size and all those muscles.

“Mr. Claremont-Diaz-Fox, all mine. This is mine,” he says with a kiss to Henry’s chest, right over his heart. “This,” with a kiss to that squishy part of Henry’s belly he is utterly obsessed with, could write poetry about. “This, too,” with a kiss to the head of his co*ck, red and ready to burst. “Especially this, all mine.” Alex pulls his fingers out so he can kiss his rim.

Henry cries out, hands shooting out to hold the back of Alex’s head to press him closer. Alex just hums and slides his arms under and around Henry’s thighs to pull his hips higher. He laps him up with the flat of his tongue, over and over again. “Don’t know why we wasted our time with a wedding cake when you taste this sweet, princess.” He turns his head a bit to lavish Henry’s inner thigh with kisses.

Alex hisses at the sting in his scalp when Henry tugs him harshly back into place, rolling his hips against Alex’s awaiting tongue.

“I’m not for sharing, I’m yours.”

The certainty with which he says it earns him the reward of Alex’s tongue f*cking into him thoroughly. It doesn’t quite align with his desire to spoil Henry and treat him gently, but his need to please and sexually conquer the love of his life wins out. The sounds Henry makes, the way his hips squirm, and the fingers that tug at his hair all point to this being the correct choice. He makes up for it by gently massaging Henry’s thighs and sliding a hand up to finally stroke his weeping co*ck, matching the pace of his tongue.

Alex only pulls away when Henry’s thighs clamp down on his head and his hips move erratically. He has to physically pry the thighs apart so he can sit back and slide three fingers back into Henry’s hole, simultaneously milking his prostate and co*ck through his first org*sm of the night. Pearlescent ropes of cum decorate Henry’s lower abdomen, chest, and Alex’s hand.

“So f*cking beautiful, making such a mess for me. My pretty baby boy,” Alex praises him softly with kisses to his temple and the highest points of his cheeks. He mindlessly wipes his hands on their very expensive suits, hoping it’s one of the dress shirts but deciding he doesn’t quite care.

It takes a while for Henry’s breathing to even out and his back to relax again from where it had arched with the force of his release. He turns his head to face Alex and gifts him a dopey, f*cked out smile. Alex has always known he’ll never love another the way he loves this man before him, but at this moment his chest feels like a supernova with the depth of his love.

He brushes his fingers through Henry’s sweaty hair and kisses him on the lips repeatedly, chaste pecks. “Welcome back, princess. Are you satisfied with my services?”

“Hmm, no.” Henry spreads his legs wide again and looks at Alex expectantly through half lidded eyes. “I’m still waiting to get railed, darling.”

“I didn’t know I married such a needy minx,” Alex comments with a playful smack of Henry’s thigh that has him whimpering. He thinks it’s so cute that Henry tries to dominate him but falls apart with a spank here or a bite there. Alex will give up the reins later, but tonight is all about worshiping his precious husband thoroughly.

“Liar. That’s your favorite trait of mine.”

“Nope! My favorite trait is how passionate and hard working you are, how you give yourself away completely to your work, then act bashful about it.”

Henry whimpers again but for a different reason. Only Alex can turn a filthy moment sentimental.

“Stop making my heart soft and put your co*ck in me already, you absolute flirt.” Henry has decided he will not play by Alex’s rules anymore, shows as much by tossing a leg over his hip and rolling them so he’s sat on Alex’s lap. He reaches back behind himself and aligns Alex’s co*ck to his entrance. The head barely breaches him before he’s being lifted by his hips and set back down on his back with both wrists pinned above his head.

“Alexander,” he whines, huffing and puffing at the man covering his face with kisses instead of stuffing him full already.

Alex tells him, “You said pillow princess, so act like it,” then turns him slightly on his side to spank him as a warning. “Be good, or I won’t cum inside you.”

That makes Henry wail like a dog whose tail was stepped on. “No! Please, please, please, I’ve been waiting all night. I’ll be good, please, I want it—you promised whatever I want,” he begs pathetically and puts on his best puppy dog look. His kissed red lips really help exaggerate his pout.

Alex settles back in between Henry’s parted thighs and says, “Then let me worship you before I ravish you, cariño.”

He strokes himself a few times to cover his length with the leftover lube, thankfully not needing very much because, fortunately for both of them, he’d been steadily leaking the whole time. Henry acting like a brat really does it for him. Covered in his own cum? He’s a f*cking sight and Alex is a weak, weak man.

Despite what the horny gremlin in his brain wants to do, Alex takes his time pressing into Henry. With both forearms pressed on the dock on either side of Henry’s head, he’s able to reduce the space between their bodies so they’re chest-to-chest without crushing him. It also allows him to kiss Henry sweetly, allowing the other to bite and lick as he pleases, fully in control of the kiss as Alex focuses on keeping a slow, steady pace of his hips.

He smiles a bit when he feels Henry’s hands in his hair, down his neck, and eventually wrapping his arms around Alex’s torso like they’re still not close enough. They aren’t. Alex wishes he could solder them together, melt them down to a silver and copper alloy to create a beautiful sculpture commemorating their love and commitment to each other. The heat exchanged between their bodies is enough to meld them into one.

Alex shifts his weight to free-up a hand, trailing delicate fingers all over Henry’s body. Henry rearranges his arms so that one hand presses down on Alex’s lower back to encourage him to push deeper, and the other catches Alex’s hands to link their fingers and hold over his heart. He can feel the rapid beating of his heart and thinks this is the most connected their souls have ever been. Here, under the stars, giving each other away completely.

Henry pulls away from his lips to press against his jaw and down his neck instead, all coordination in his kissing lost from every moan and whimper Alex pulls out of him. He’s the proud cartographer of Henry’s body, even with his slow pace he is able to bully his prostate each time without reprieve. His speed picks up a bit when sharp teeth sink into the juncture of his neck.

Alex is maybe a bit of a hypocrite because a strategically placed kiss to his neck always has him folding like a lawn chair. He’s just a slu*t for Henry’s kisses anywhere on his body. Hand kisses alone have Alex stuttering and blushing something serious. Neck kisses? Forget it. How is a man to survive such an intimate gesture? As much as Alex loves worshiping and showering Henry with affection, he practically animorphs into a puppy the second it’s reciprocated.

It’s that inner puppy spirit, eager to please and receive Henry’s affection, that turns the snap of his hips quicker, rougher, less coordinated. Henry takes that as his sign that gentle Alex has had his fill and is ready to properly pound into him like he deserves.

“Alex, Alex, just like that—so good for me, darling, such a good boy,” Henry pants against his skin. He attempts to roll his hips up to meet some of Alex’s thrusts. “Use me, fill me, please!”

“You’re so perfect, Hen, taking me so well.” Alex sits up on his knees and drags Henry’s hips up with him, giving him a new angle. This one allows him to slide in deeper but it’s still not enough. Henry’s body feels like a collapsing star, breaking into a billion fragments. The energy radiating from him is enough to form multiple new stars, he thinks.

“More, it’s not enough—I need—“

Henry doesn’t get to finish his sentence as Alex pulls all the way out and flips him onto his stomach. He mewls as Alex manhandles him onto his knees with his ass in the air and his chest pressed onto the dock. The hand on his back doesn’t allow him to move, all he can do is turn his head to the side to alleviate the stress on his neck. His co*ck weeps pathetically. He’s finally getting what he wants.

Alex smacks his ass a few times, almost hypnotized by the way it jiggles and how easily it reddens under his palm. Henry’s body stuttering and twitching forward in response is such a treat. He nestles his co*ck between his perfect cheeks to tease him by rolling his hips without pushing back inside. He grabs handfuls of that perfect ass, while he’s at it, kneading and squeezing the flesh. All Henry can do is take it and whine, pushing his hips back for more.

“I’m—Alex, please, what can I do? I’ve been so good, I deserve my reward, please, I can’t,” Henry is properly crying now, fat tears clinging to his lashes. He’s frustrated and empty, he thinks he might die.

Alex gently rubs his lower back, shushing him not unkindly. Without saying anything, he parts Henry’s thighs just a bit more to make himself comfortable and finally slides home. He groans and curses when Henry squeezes around him barely halfway in, like he’s trying to suck in the rest of Alex’s length. With a sharp thrust, he’s fully seated and Henry is squealing and melting onto the dock, boneless and satisfied.

“Such a perfect co*ckslu*t, aren’t you? Men would go to war for this greedy hole, princess, f*ck,” he says emphatically with a harsh smack of Henry’s ass.

Henry’s back arches more, hips pushing up higher and back to desperately ride Alex. It takes him a while to form the words, “Your slu*t, only want your co*ck forever,” which earns him hands on his waist that pull him back onto Alex’s co*ck as he sets a brutal, bruising pace. Henry’s reduced to broken moans and gasps as Alex enthusiastically pounds into him, chanting a mix of Alex’s name and ‘yes! yes!’ and ‘so f*cking deep, so good, ohmygod,’

A shift and a particularly powerful thrust has Henry screaming and sobbing, nails scratching at the dock as he seeks purchase. Alex stops immediately, wide-eyed with worry.

“Sweetheart? Oh, f*ck, did I hurt you?” He starts pulling away but is stopped by Henry moving back to keep them connected.

“No… I felt you right here,” he slides a hand under his body to press it against his tummy. “So big. Feels so good, ‘Lex.”

Alex mutters an emphatic, “f*ck,” and gets back to work. He instructs Henry to close his legs a bit so his hips are angled higher. This allows Alex to slide in even deeper, pronouncing the bulge on Henry’s belly, which he presses down against for added pleasure. Henry’s a proper drooling, crying mess by this point, his feet occasionally kicking up from the force of Alex’s thrusts and the tingles of pleasure on his lower back, spine, everywhere.

Alex keeps a hand on Henry’s hip to more easily guide him back onto his co*ck as he pushes in, while his other moves to rest on top of Henry’s, over his tummy. He links their fingers as best as he can just as he says, “Can I put a baby in here, princess?”

Henry screams again and feels his whole body shake in anticipation of his org*sm, positive there’s already a pool of his own cum beneath him.

“Yes! P-please! Wanna be full of you, want your babies,” he begs, pressing his hand more firmly against his stomach, even when the bulge isn’t there.

“Gonna keep you nice and stuffed full with my cum until you get pregnant, pretty baby—Jesus, Hen—“

Henry’s muscles squeeze and tighten impossibly around him. Alex is barely able to press all the way in before he’s spilling his entire load inside. His hips stutter through his org*sm, lacking all control and coordination. He feels like a teenager having sex for the first time, reduced to chanting Henry’s name over and over again, hands gripping his hips tight enough to bruise perfect imprints of his fingers.

Henry doesn’t fare any better, managing to get his free hand on his weeping co*ck to time his release with Alex’s with quick strokes. It’s all too much, he’s shaking with over sensitivity, yet he can’t bring himself to ask Alex to stop. He loves being full with his love’s co*ck, his cum, wishes to be full with his baby.

He feels a deep sense of loss at the realization that he can’t have that.

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆

He doesn’t realize he’s crying until Alex pulls out and draws him into his arms. They cling onto each other for several minutes, Henry inconsolable against Alex’s chest as they lie on the dock. The gentle fingers in his hair and the whispered praises against his temple are what finally calm him down.

Henry draws lazy patterns on Alex’s chest and tilts his head up to look at him. His lungs almost cave as the beautiful smile that greets him, so tender and full of love.

“How are you, sweetheart?”

Embarrassment creeps up his cheeks at the question and he curls himself more into Alex’s chest. He doesn’t want to admit he cried because his co*ckdrunk brain got sad about his inability to bear children, it sounds insane. He chooses to go with a joke.

“Dick too good, it broke my brain.”

Thankfully, Alex laughs heartily and holds onto him more tightly.

“I love you so much. Let’s get you inside so you can sleep. You’ll need plenty of energy to keep up for the next two weeks,” Alex says with that signature cheeky grin. Henry’s dick twitches in interest at that but is thankfully too satisfied to go again without a little nap break.

Alex stands up first to gather their clothes, attempting to somewhat fold them so he can hand the stack to Henry. After his initial confusion, Henry finds himself carried back inside the house bridal-style with Alex claiming this is the only way he’ll be allowed to get around all honeymoon because he plans to have his way with his lovely husband. That made Henry blush furiously. He may never have a normal reaction to Alex being so straightforward and filthy.

They managed to take a quick shower just to wash away all of the sweat and bodily fluids clinging onto their skin before settling into bed—naked, sated, and so in love. They fall asleep in each other’s arms with the peace of mind that tomorrow would be the first day of forever, together.

—

Henry almost regrets taking a nearly three month break for their wedding and subsequent two-week honeymoon—which they had split between Mexico and Wales, to honor their respective heritage—when he opens his email for the first time in mid June and sees the alarming ‘568 Unread’ notification in his inbox.

To be honest, he started regretting all that time off when he woke up at 7 AM that morning to Alex fully dressed in his normal work suit, curls shiny from freshly applied gel, towering over him still cocooned in their sheets to kiss his forehead. Alex hadn’t meant to wake Henry up, but the lack of warmth on that side of the bed had alerted his subconscious already and the kiss had only pulled him into full awareness.

Alex had whispered, “I love you, baby. I’ll come back home to you as fast as I can, promise,” before disappearing. Henry was awake enough to feel the beginnings of a dark hole opening up in his chest and felt so ridiculous for it. He’d grown so used to spending every second of every day with Alex that not being in his arms, where he belonged, made Henry feel completely bereft.

He felt some sympathy for David, then, as surely this is how the pup felt whenever his owner was gone for hours. He felt so inexplicably sad. God, spending two weeks co*ckdrunk and loved had irreparably altered his brain chemistry.

Maybe he would write that second and third book his publisher was begging him to, just to keep Alex at home as his well-kept trophy husband. Or, he could have Shaan kindly request Zahra to allow Alex some work-from-home days.

Jesus Christ, he felt needy. Not horny needy, but emotional needy. He made a mental note to peruse the newly weds reddit form to determine whether he was experiencing a common emotional state right now or if he needed to ring his therapist to discuss this newly found codependency.

His inbox was also another point of regret. It took him nearly three weeks to get through every single email that required a response. It was a whole ordeal because some people would reply just as quickly, increasing the unread count by one and pushing Henry just a bit closer to a breakdown.

He’d felt extra irritable those days, and stressed. Generally very heightened emotions. David had taken notice, as by week two he’d started following Henry around more closely and curling up at his side with his snout on Henry’s belly whenever he’d take a break and curl up on the couch.

Only Alex’s presence every evening seemed to calm the raging storm in his brain—typical. It was obvious that he, too, had noticed the change in Henry’s mental health as he returned to work and pressing deadlines. There were a lot of logistics involved with planning a book tour, apparently. It was doing quite a number on his energy.

Alex, like the absolute dream husband he was, would ask Henry what he craved for dinner every night and would make it no matter how obscure it was. He had long discovered that Henry’s lesser known love language was being fed homemade meals. In truth, Henry just felt incredibly loved when Alex would return home from a busy day at work and make dinner anyway, just because. It turned his heart into a gold medal winning Olympic gymnast, Simone Biles had nothing on him.

It also seemed that only Alex’s cooking didn’t offend his stomach. For some odd reason, within two weeks of returning from their honeymoon, Henry’s stomach had been acting up. At first, it was only inconvenient aches and hints of nausea. He thought it was just his stomach adjusting to food from home versus food from abroad, but Alex hadn’t had any issues. He shrugged it off as more stress symptoms.

It wasn’t until mid-July that he begun waking up with aggressive bouts of nausea that sometimes forced him to throw up whatever was still left in his stomach from the night before. Thankfully, it always occurred when he properly woke up around 9 or 10 AM, when Alex was already at work and wouldn’t have to worry about it. It wasn’t long after their return that he’d accepted a high-stakes case, very much on brand of the man who strived for world peace, so Henry didn’t want him staying home just to take care of his ill husband.

Henry was an adult. He could care for himself.

So far, chamomile tea as soon as he woke up seemed to help. Alex quickly caught onto his increased chamomile intake and kept their kitchen stocked with Henry’s favorite brand. Thankfully, these nausea episodes only occurred in the morning. By the afternoon, he felt completely normal and Alex continued none the wiser.

—Until early August, of course, when Henry woke up so violently ill that he had no time to respond to Alex’s good morning text, too busy with his head in the toilet and expelling everything he had ever consumed in his life. David stood at his side, whimpering and trotting back and forth with worry.

Henry felt intimately familiar with their toilet bowl now. He thought hard about everything he had eaten in the last 48 hours but nothing stood out as odd or unusual. Alex made enchiladas on Tuesday and his mom’s mac and cheese on Wednesday. All perfectly normal, or so he’d thought. His stomach was less in accordance with that conclusion.

Apparently not responding to a text for two hours on a Thursday was so concerning that it required reinforcements. Henry felt absolutely wrung out and lifess, and just a bit pathetic, sitting on his bathroom floor. At least he’d had the sense of mind to sit against the sink, otherwise his cheek would be pressed up against the toilet seat. Yuck.

That’s how June and Nora eventually found him. He didn’t even know the time.

“Henry? What’s going on?” June asks as she follows David into the bathroom, Nora just behind.

Henry quickly sits up to flush the toilet and try to make himself appear normal.

“Oh, nothing. I’m feeling a bit under the weather this morning, it seems,” he says as nonchalantly as he can.

They don’t buy it, obviously. June kneels before him and presses the back of her hand to his forehead to check his temperature. Nora is no longer in sight, but he can hear her in the kitchen. Feeding David, probably. God, Henry is a mess.

“You don’t have a fever but obviously you’ve been throwing up. How long has this been going on?”

Henry briefly considers lying, then just as quickly decided it’d be foolish to at this point. She has seen him and the unpleasant evidence. Nora has likely already sent a detailed report back to Alex.

Selfishly, he wouldn’t mind Alex coming home early. Just today.

“A few days, maybe? My stomach hasn’t been quite right since the honeymoon. I haven’t had, erm, emesis like this the entire time, only today,” he tries to say as delicately as possible.

“Alex says he’s coming home. Do you want to wait for him or should we take you to the hospital?” Nora says as she reenters the room with a steaming mug and saltine crackers.

Henry whines and shakes his head, “I didn’t want him to worry—he is so busy right now, I’m fine. He doesn’t need to come home. Please tell him—“

“No can do. You didn’t respond to his text for three hours now. He’s been mad with worry,” June responds, running gentle fingers through Henry’s sweat damp curls. He has always felt blessed to have grown up with two big sisters in his life, especially when his mum succumbed to her grief. He thinks if not for June, Bea and he would have turned out worse for wear.

“Can you call him? I’ll talk to him. I really think I just ate something weird, it’s not such a big deal. You guys are here, you see I’m alive.” Henry is almost begging at this point. It’s so ridiculous, he knows. Alex would happily put him over a case at the drop of a hat. If Henry needs him, he’ll be there.

They’re going on two months of being husbands, though. Henry doesn’t want to appear so damn needy this early. If they ever have kids, he wants Alex to feel confident that Henry can stay at home taking care of them without any extra adult supervision. He’s a responsible, reliable adult. He can take care of one odd stomach bug on his own.

It takes a whole lot of convincing through a FaceTime call, but he manages to convince Alex to not leave work. He promises to call if he does go to the doctor and only then can Alex come to his rescue. Alex isn’t happy about it but he respects his husband’s wishes.

Thirty minutes later, Henry finds himself showered and in clean day clothes at the kitchen table with June and Nora, feeling perfectly normal again.

He tells them all about the upcoming book tour, how his publisher squeezed in more dates because of how much time Henry took off. Fortunately, that time had allowed his book to find its audience and quickly gain a cult following. Henry is certain tiktok is to be blamed, but how can he complain when his debut novel made it to the NY TIMES best seller list? He is incredibly humbled, but… Well. Henry is admittedly not fond of being away from his husband for a whole month as he travels to 15 cities.

It’s not what he’d envisioned for their first year of marriage. There was definitely more lazing around at home, learning how to make recipes off the book abuela gave him, and discussing moving out of their shared apartment to their first real home, in all of his daydreams. There is a brownstone he has been eyeing and an agent ready to fight for it in their name.

“I’m sure Zahra will give Alex a much smaller case after, maybe he can join you for a city or two,” June suggests kindly.

“Seriously, H. That’s your husband now. Enough of the shy, damsel in distress roleplay and just tell him what you want,” Nora agrees.

“It’s not that easy. He is doing important work out there, I won’t take him away from it.”

“The world didn’t stop turning in those three months of wedding shenanigans, what’s another week or so?”

Nora’s logic has always been impossible to win against.

“I suppose so… I’m sure he’d love to join me on the Texas dates, at least. Oh, by the way, do you think I can have the Diaz-family tea recipe? It wasn’t in the book but I think it will help immensely,” Henry turns to ask June, who has gotten up to make them their afternoon tea.

“What tea recipe?”

“Lucinda said it was for anxiety and calming the mind. I think it had lavender in it.”

June sharply turns, all of a sudden, staring at Henry with wide eyes.

“Henry. You… When was this? Did you drink the whole thing? Tell me everything.”

Henry looks at her both puzzled and alarmed. He swallows.

“Erm, when we made tamales. I was with abuela, Carmen, and Lucinda. I was feeling some wedding nerves,” he says mildly because confessing he was diving headfirst into a spiral about future children with June before he’s even addressed it with Alex feels embarrassing and wrong, “so Lucinda made me a cuppa that she said would help with that. I did drink it all, should I not have?”

He glances at Nora warily when she whispers, “oh, sh*t.”

“Henry. I need you to tell me what exactly you said to them. What did they say to you.” It’s not a question. Henry’s stomach tumbles again.

Something about the intensity in her eyes has him spilling everything out—Alex with the kids, future children, the biology of it all. He has to duck his head to hide his reddening cheeks, feeling ashamed by his silly worries once again put on display for one of Alex’s loved ones to dissect.

“It’s—it’s not at all important to me how we build a family, I swear. Or if we don’t. If Davey is our only ‘child,’ that’s perfectly okay. I don’t expect Alex to—“ he begins in an attempt to defend himself.

“Santa Maria, Madre de Dios, ruega por nosotros pecadores,” June says faintly. She’s not even looking at Henry anymore, her eyes are locked with Nora’s, engaged in a conversation he has no right to. There’s a prickly feeling rising along his spine and up his neck.

“Guys, what’s going on?”

They both finally turn to him again. Nora makes a wild gesture like it’s June’s responsibility to catch him up to speed. The tea is all but forgotten as June sits next to Henry and gently holds his hands in hers.

“I need you to keep an open mind when I tell you this. You can’t freak out,” she begins.

“I’m sort of already freaking out. June, what’s bloody happening?”

“The women in the Diaz family are… Well, I guess there’s no delicate way of saying this. They’re well versed in witchcraft.”

Henry just stares.

“The tea you drank…That wasn’t…”

“You got brujeria’ed, my dude.” Nora jumps in easily.

“What?”

“The tea was likely a potion and, uh, I don’t think it was for peace of mind,” June continues with a grimace. Henry grips her hands tightly, his heart jolting awake into a full sprint.

“June… What is happening to me? I thought they liked me, I thought… They cursed me?” He asks incredulously, hurt, shameful tears welling in his eyes. Henry feels utterly gutted, scooped clean like fresh salmon at the market.

They had been so kind to him, even when they left the wedding. Abuela had said ‘bendiciones,’ he swore that meant blessings. Did they secretly disapprove of him for Alex? Maybe they couldn’t accept him over the cultural differences after all, and—

“H, I think you’re pregnant.”

His train of thought plunges straight off a cliff and into the ocean. Everything is muffled except for a loud ringing in his ears.

“What? Don’t be ridiculous, Nora,” he can’t help but snarl. It’s all too f*cking much. He’s sick. He’s hurt. He’s cursed, apparently. By the love of his life’s family, no less!

“Hen, you’re not cursed. They love you so much and they meant well, I promise you. You were blessed and, uh. I think Nora is right.”

Everything is quiet again.

Henry quickly stands and pulls his hands to his chest, wanting to be as far away from June as possible.

“Stop messing about. This is ridiculous, do you hear yourselves? I can’t be pregnant, I don’t have a uterus! I think I’d know that!” He doesn’t realize how loudly he’s talking until David runs into the kitchen on high alert, huffing and puffing.

June and Nora look at him sympathetically and it pisses him off more than anything.

“It’s not funny,” he adds, rather pitifully, because if he looks inside himself too closely then he’ll have to acknowledge the fact that he’s always felt just a bit distraught that he’ll never truly be ‘full of Alex’s babies,’ being born without the correct hardware and all. It was a joke, anyway, just something he and Alex say in the heat of it because it’s hot. A breeding kink, that’s all. A fantasy.

He’s perfectly content being a man, loves his body just as it is. He can ignore the momentary flashes of a curly haired, brown-eyed, freckled baby that plague his brain every now and then. Henry is perfectly in his right to daydream of babies with Alex, more so after the discovery of that 16-year-old wedding binder with his name on it. They love each other so deeply that sometimes they fantasize about the impossible.

Subconsciously, he presses a hand to his stomach.

It’s just a kink.

He doesn’t actually want to be pregnant with Alex’s babies, right?

That’d be absolutely bonkers.

His hand presses down a bit more firmly, not noticing the tears clinging to his lashes or the fact that Nora has left the kitchen.

The possibility blows the door wide open for thoughts he’d kept deadbolted in the darkest recesses of his mind, forever meant to be kept a secret. Now, they creep out. Now, Henry is forced to face the truth behind his hesitation with surrogacy: Someone else would have to carry Alex’s baby because Henry simply couldn’t. He knows it’s not a flaw. He knows it’s not a dealbreaker to Alex, either, but it would always feel like a personal failing to Henry.

The more jealous, possessive part of his brain wails in agony at the image of a kind, beautiful woman, belly round with what should only belong to him.

Oh, Christ. He is in deep trouble.

He blinks rapidly and finally acknowledges the tears when he wipes them off with his free hand.

Could he really be carrying their baby?

No. No, that’s impossible.

It’s impossible.

Yet.

When he removes all the caution tape and shame around the very real and desperate desire to create a little life they made lovingly, passionately, that Henry’s body can grow and nourish because he’s allowed to, well… Henry can admit it’s all he’s ever wanted. He wouldn’t have to share any part of Alex to create a family that is truly theirs.

“June,” he whispers. She is at his side immediately, a gentle hand on his back. “That’s not possible, right? I could never—would Alex even want that? I’m—“

“Oh, Hen. Of course Alex wants a family with you. God, he’ll be so f*cking insufferable when he finds out he actually knocked you up.”

“No, I’m not. I can’t be. It’s not possible,” he repeats while shaking his hand. The hand on his stomach hasn’t moved.

“Nora will be back soon with some pregnancy tests. I’m going to call abuela and you need to rest, okay? We can’t have you this stressed.”

Henry doesn’t respond, too paralyzed by all of the emotions he is feeling at once and all the thoughts stuffing his mind. He doesn’t really feel present in this moment, his body fully on autopilot as he walks back into their bedroom and tugs on Alex’s favorite hoodie. The sleeves are starting to tear and there’s a mystery stain on the middle pocket, but it smells like Alex no matter how often it’s washed.

He curls up on Alex’s side of the bed and focuses on his breathing. He doesn’t remember when Nora returns, or when he was pulled back into the bathroom. He certainly doesn’t remember peeing on three different test sticks, far too focused on keeping his heart inside of his chest.

They wait five minutes for all three tests to fully develop.

Henry doesn’t want to look.

He does, anyway, beginning an intense staring contest with the white sticks that display back two red lines, a blue positive sign, and the word ‘pregnant’ in big, bold letters.

All he can do is stare.

His earth tilts on its axis, gravity seems to increase, and he finds himself on his knees against the cold tiles of his bathroom once again. The stick pronouncing ‘pregnant’ is clutched impossibly tight in his hands. He’s sure his head narrowly missed the edge of the sink because of June, who sits on the floor with him and holds him tightly. He feels extra fingers in his hair, assuming it’s Nora but his brain is far too fuzzy to be certain. He barely manages to keep his breathing even, only hitching with the beginnings of a sob.

Pregnant? With Alex’s baby? With his baby. Their baby. A human that would genetically be 50% Alex, 50% Henry. Their baby.

Henry feels terrified. They haven’t even talked about starting a family yet, not explicitly. They had both made comments in passing about ‘when we have our own family,’ and ‘our kids,’ but hadn’t really discussed any of the logistics. Their marriage is not even a full three months old yet.

How does he bring this up to Alex now? Does he break the news first and then discuss a potential family? Or should he gauge Alex’s interest first and break the news after?

How does he even begin to explain that a comment he’d made to his family led to all of this? Alex certainly knows what the women in his family can do, perhaps he will be less shocked by it than Henry.

He doesn’t even want to begin addressing the biology of it all. He can’t, not yet. All of his fantasies were so far-fetched that he’d never considered the nine month gestation period. He had the book tour in December to worry about. How would he even—

“Please call Alex, please, I need him, I just can’t,” he manages against June’s shoulder.

Henry is f*cking terrified of, well, everything right now and only Alex can bring him back down to earth. The gravity that once pulled him towards the core of the earth seems to have loosened its grip too much. If not for June, Henry might be in outer space right now, just like his mind.

“You need to come home, it’s Henry. It’s not… He’s fine, he’s great physically, it’s not exactly a health emergency but—just—he really needs you.”

Henry wishes he could make out Alex’s words, just to hear his voice. He holds his hand out and Nora immediately relinquishes her phone.

“‘Lex,” he chokes out.

“Baby, what’s going on? I’m leaving right now, I’ll break all traffic laws to get to you. Hang on, okay? I love you, cariño mio,” Alex’s voice sounds panicked and urgent. Henry hates it. He wonders if he’ll sound the same when Henry shares the news.

“Please,” is all he manages. Alex instructs him to give the phone back to Nora. Whatever he says leads to June helping him to his feet and back into bed, where he subconsciously presses his face into Alex’s pillow to find some modicum of comfort in his lingering scent.

It’s his Alex. No matter what, he won’t lose him. He promised forever. There isn’t a challenge Alex hasn’t taken on head-first, that stubborn part of him that doesn’t allow people to tell him what he can and can’t do always pushes him even past his limits sometimes. Henry thinks that will work to his advantage, somewhat shamefully.

It eases his mind enough to slowly tune back into his surroundings, one sense at a time. Smell had been the first, with the lingering scent of Alex on his pillows when he first laid down. It is followed by touch when his fingers twitch on David’s back, causing the dog to perk up just a bit. Hearing is next, the whispering around him turning into tangible words with time. When he recognizes the familiar timber of Alex’s voice, Henry shoots up in bed. The sight of Alex by the door frame goes as quickly as it comes, tears flooding his eyes against his will.

He manages a whimper that draws Alex’s attention to him, moving in a flash to envelop him in strong, warm arms. With his face pressed against his husband’s warm chest, Henry cries properly for the first time that morning. Every fear, every doubt, everything is released in those tears. He clings to Alex like his life might depend on it. Distantly, he thinks it’s not just his life that depends on Alex anymore. Bloody hell.

“You’re okay, sweetheart, I’ve got you. I’m right here, I won’t leave you, okay?” Alex whispers softly against blond hair, keeping his hands occupied by rubbing a soothing pattern on his back.

The whispered ‘I love you’s, ‘I've got you, baby,’ and ‘you’re okay, sweetheart,’ eventually calm him down. It’s also possible that he’s all out of tears anyway and a dull ache in his lungs reminds him to steady his breathing.

“What’s going on? The girls wouldn’t tell me.”

Henry meekly peeks over Alex’s shoulder to where June and Nora still stand by the door, hand in hand. He feels immensely grateful to them for staying until now. They might have delivered the most reality shattering, improbable news of his lifetime, but he can’t imagine faring any better if he’d found out much later. He doesn’t know how long he’s been—he can’t even utter the word in such a definitive way in his own brain yet—in this condition, though he can guess it’s been a while given the morning sickness he has been dealing with since last month.

Nora smiles encouragingly at him but still asks, “Do you want us to stay?”

Henry does consider that for a bit. June is able to give Alex more context for how this happened. He pulls away from Alex just enough to take his face in. He notes the concern in the wrinkles between his eyes, the worry on his chewed-red lips, and the utter adoration and confusion swimming in his eyes. He thinks he sees a bit of hurt there, too, likely from some convoluted idea that Henry doesn’t trust him enough to have been the first to know about whatever was wrong.

Henry presses the softest kiss to Alex’s forehead and smiles at him as genuinely as he can. It’s enough to tick the corners of his lips up, which soothes Henry’s heart just a bit.

“It’s okay. I think we need the privacy,” he tells them, smiling a bit more kindly.

They give both men tight hugs before making themselves scarce. Then, it’s just Henry and Alex sitting in bed, staring at each other.

Alex looks on expectantly but doesn’t want to push. He has noticed Henry’s mental health not exactly declining but definitely changing, a bit more sensitive than normal. He’d chalked it up to work stress, but this breaking point combined with the earlier illness indicates something bigger. He tucks a blond lock behind Henry’s ear and presses a kiss to his cheek.

“Alex. I’m…” Henry begins, then stops.

What if Alex laughs and calls him a loon? No. He needs a better plan.

“There’s something in the bathroom I’d like you to get. On the sink,” he says, instead.

Alex looks at him puzzled but moves to retrieve the mystery items. His bewilderment only grows at the sight of the positive pregnancy tests sitting on their sink, doubling at the one mindlessly on the ground.

Considering he has no idea who peed on them, Alex picks them up with a bit of toilet paper and makes his way back to Henry. There are about a thousand different scenarios running through his mind right now, each one more improbable than the last. He has to physically stop his thoughts from spiraling further, he simply sets the white plastic sticks down on their bed and waits for Henry to continue.

“June said that the women in the Diaz clan are witches?”

That makes Alex smile a bit. He remembers being a child and learning all about brujeria, thinking it was all a bunch of mumbo jumbo the adults wanted to scare him with, like la Llorona or el Cucuy, just folklore. Then he’d witnessed his abuela cure a duckling of its hobbling, caused by the dog nipping at its ankle, by placing a wooden bowl over it and tapping the top with a spoon. That was one of the least crazy things he’d witnessed in the name of brujeria.

There was the time his cousin Rebecca’s no-good ex-boyfriend was cursed for cheating on her. He kinda deserved that, she had been pregnant with their second child out of wedlock at the time. He also remembers Julia having to wear all of her pajamas inside-out and red underwear for months because someone had given her mal de ojo.

Thankfully, he’d never been on the receiving end of it, neither good nor bad.

“Something like that, yeah,” he agrees. Henry appears relieved by his easy acceptance of this.

“Right… As it turns out, they, erm. They “blessed” me. Us. I seem to have consumed a-a potion, June called it.” Henry pauses here as he notes the way Alex tenses immediately.

“What?”

He’s pissed.

His abuela dared to magic his f*cking husband? That—Alex can’t help but scoff. He’s shocked and sort of hurt by that. They only ever magic consenting parties, if it’s for blessing or healing purposes. He would have—no, should have known if they were planning on using their abilities on Henry. Henry deserved to make that choice for himself, too. How could they do that?

“Baby, what did they do to you?” Alex demands, trying his best to tamp down his anger. Henry had been hurt by whatever they did. He’d fallen ill and fallen apart, and Alex simply could not stand for that. He absolutely adores every single one of his family members but Henry is his family now, too, the one he’s most devoted to protecting.

He can’t be angry right now, he needs to comfort his husband and support him through whatever madness his family dragged him into.

Henry opens his mouth, then shuts it. He glances down at the pregnancy tests. Alex’s eyes follow for a brief second, then snap back up to Henry who refuses to look back up. He’s gripping the bedsheets at his sides.

“What?” Alex asks again, a bit more faintly this time. He doesn’t want to assume anything right now, but—

“Henry,” he pleads, uncurling Henry’s fingers from the sheets to delicately hold his hands instead. Alex purposely rubs his thumb over Henry’s wedding ring.

That finally makes Henry look up and with a deep breath, the words, “I’m pregnant?” come tumbling out.

Alex blinks at him repeatedly, his brain behaving worse than an early 80s computer that can only process one word at a time. Henry had only said two, so the delay in his processing should be medically investigated.

“What?” He asks again because, honestly? It bears repeating.

Listen, they’ve certainly said the word plenty of times while Alex is balls deep in him and the lust has his mind feeling cotton-stuffed, so he’s intimately familiar with how it sounds coming out of Henry’s mouth. It’s never been said in this context, though. Definitely never in this setting. Alex just needs… Something. His brain is still malfunctioning, he thinks.

“I’m… pregnant.” Henry says more quietly, looking away from Alex again. “Whatever they did to that drink, it.. Yeah. I have. In here,” he draws one of Alex’s hands to his stomach with fresh tears glittering in his eyes. “The three tests are mine. Alex—I’m so sorry, I don’t know how—“

“Woah, woah, woah. Baby, what? Sorry, wait. I mean, why are you sorry? Do you not want—?”

“I do! I really do, more than anything, but it wasn’t in our plans. We didn’t get to talk about it. I don’t even know if that’s something you’d like, most of all right now. And it’s—it’s strange, isn’t it? I’m a man, how can I…” Henry stops himself by biting down on his lip, harsh enough to draw blood. He’s taking too many steps at once, has to remind himself to breathe and slow down. More importantly, he needs to not decide for Alex how he feels or what he wants. It’s not his place to.

To Henry’s surprise, Alex moves to sit with his back against the headboard and pulls Henry onto his lap, large hands covering his belly protectively. Henry thinks his heart will leap out of his chest. Alex buries his face against the crook of his neck and just breathes him in for a second.

“Henry, sweetheart. I love you to bits but you’re an idiot if you think, even for one second, that I don’t want a family with you.” He chuckles when Henry turns slightly in his arms to protests. Alex kisses him with a big smile on his face, unable to contain the joy blossoming his chest.

“Today, tomorrow, in seven years. I want it. Okay, yeah, maybe we didn’t exactly decide before it happened, but it’s happening and I’m so f*cking happy.” Alex can’t keep the emotion out of his voice as he admits that, doesn’t even try. It’s okay, he decides, when Henry deflates against his chest, sobbing in relief. Alex comforts him by littering his neck with kisses and rubbing his stomach in a way he hopes is gentle.

f*ck, he’s going to need to pick up several baby and parenting books. A book shopping spree is added to the top of his priority to-do list.

f*ck, he’s going to be a dad.

He should probably take more time to process this truly bizarre situation they find themselves in. Henry being pregnant, by the powers of his abuela’s brujeria, is nothing short of life-changing. Miraculous. One day, soon, he’ll be round and glowing with the little life they’ve created.

That has tears pricking in Alex’s eyes.

It doesn’t matter how this came to be or that there are probably a million hurdles before them that they can’t see. They’ll tackle them when the time comes. His brain is permanently set to Protect Henry mode, which includes soothing all of his worries and fears. That’s all that matters right now.

“Is this really okay? We’re going to do this?” Henry asks carefully. It feels too easy. It shouldn’t surprise him but this is not the sort of decision one should make lightly.

“f*ck yeah, we’re gonna do this. We’re gonna be the best f*cking dads, are you kidding? Our little bun has no idea how lucky they are that they get to grow inside the world’s kindest, most intelligent, passionate, and beautiful man, to ever live,” he says with a lot of conviction.

In truth, Alex is scared sh*tless. He has a lot of experience with kids of all ages from babysitting cousins, a perk of growing up with a large Mexican family. He works with kids for a living, too. He’s never raised a child, though, and his own upbringing left much to be desired. The unadulterated joy he feels at the chance to do this, with Henry, is larger than that fear.

His brain chooses then to remind him he knows close to nothing about the trials and tribulations of pregnancy, only passing complaints from family members and coworkers. That wipes the grin off his face.

“Is this something you want? Carrying a baby, I mean. Pregnancy isn’t exactly a walk in the park, I’ve heard.”

Henry fully turns in his lap so they’re facing each other, legs loosely wrapped around his waist. He cups Alex’s cheeks and squishes them playfully. “You can’t be serious right now.”

“What?” Alex asks, somewhat offended. He feels like he needs to defend his perfectly reasonable question by reminding Henry that, “It’s your body, I will always respect the choices you want to make for yourself, sweetheart.”

“How many times does a man need to beg his husband to put a baby in him for said husband to realize he means it?” Henry asks in a voice that suggests Alex is being daft, but his red cheeks give him away. He’s embarrassed to admit his breeding kink is more than dirty talk said for erotic effect.

“Henry, you need to stop before I put another one in there,” Alex warns in a low tone, glaring at him and squeezing his hip unkindly. It has the opposite effect, something hot curling in the pit of Henry’s belly.

“Maybe I want you to. We went through the trouble of finding the best baby-making position, after all…” is his reply, hot in Alex’s ear as he kisses a sensitive spot on his neck and grinds his hips down with purpose.

“Let’s try for twins,” Henry continues with a light hitch in his voice as Alex digs his nails into his bare skin.

He draws Alex into a messy, passionate kiss, enthusiastically licking into his mouth. His fingers tangle in those dark curls he loves so much, yanking roughly at the strands to position Alex’s head exactly where he wants it and continues to grind his hips in slow, dirty circles. He can feel Alex harden beneath him, further encouraged by the moans he’s swallowing down.

He keeps it up for a few minutes more until Alex reluctantly pulls away to press their foreheads together, holding onto Henry firmly to still the movement of his hips.

“Hang on…You’ve gone through a rollercoaster of emotions, sweetheart. Are you sure you want this right now?” Alex asks softly, almost a whisper.

Even before marriage, they had given each other blanket consent to get frisky with each other, all within reason. Alex was still a big proponent for mental check-ins because his personal biggest kink is his partner being a willing participant. Henry finds it incredibly sweet, especially now, because he knows it’s important for Alex that everything they do is pleasurable for both of them—mentally, emotionally, physically.

Alex is right, of course. Henry sits still in his lap and really checks in with himself. In college, he made many mistakes he is not proud of by using sex as a coping mechanism. When his mind was in a dark place, feeling wanted—even if it was only physical and temporary—was like self-medication. He knows he doesn’t have to do that with Alex anymore. Validation and affection exist in kinder forms, and Henry can ask for them any time.

Henry shuts his eyes and takes in a few deep breaths, clearing his mind as best as he can. While he does feel incredibly turned on, there’s a storm in his brain that won’t be calmed with sex, no matter how spectacular it would be.

When he opens his eyes to meet Alex’s, he’s met with infinite love and patience. Henry’s felt lucky every day since Alex confessed his love and feels it ten-fold in moments like these.

“No,” Henry finally says, a bit meekly. He started all of this, and now…”Can you just hold me?”

Alex’s arms are instantly around him, one on his waist and the other around his shoulders. Henry hugs him back just as fiercely, dropping his head down onto Alex’s shoulder.

“Of course, cariño. Anything you want, anytime you want. You know that.”

Henry does.

No matter what this journey takes them on, Henry is at least confident that their baby will be so loved and protected.

Their baby.

Henry tries to curl up even smaller in Alex’s arms, the weight of the world heavy on his back. Alex rearranges them to a lying position with Henry half on his side so he can press his face to Alex’s chest. It lets him brush his fingers through golden locks while the other slips under Henry’s—his, he notes—hoodie to rub his bare back.

After several minutes of comfort, Henry bursts their happy bubble to admit, “I’m so scared.”

Alex drops a kiss to the top of his head and hums. “Me, too. This is kinda insane.”

“What if my body isn’t strong enough? I wasn’t built for this. I don’t want to hurt them.”

“Silly boy. If there’s one thing about Henry Claremont-Diaz-Fox that I know for certain, it’s that he’s a strong and brave motherf*cker. Our baby couldn’t be in better hands.”

That earns Alex a kiss to the most sensitive point on his neck, gentle without any ulterior motives. Henry giggles at the shiver that racks his body. He loves knowing he can play Alex like a fiddle.

“You’re too confident in me, my love. I’m not supposed to be in this position. How can you be sure little bun will be okay?”

“Well, I know you wouldn’t let anything bad happen if you could help it.”

Henry is known for his protectiveness, his willingness to bite to back up his bark is unmatched. Still, what worries him most is the health aspect. There are too many things which are out of his control that prevent him from ensuring their little miracle actually has a chance.

“Before she left, June gave me the name of a doctor she got from abuela. We can give her a call and go as soon as possible, okay? I will talk to Zahra to get some time off while we figure this out.”

Henry sits up quickly and begins to protest, “Alex, no. Your case—“

“You’re not doing this alone, none of it,” Alex tells him firmly. He manhandles Henry back into a lying position, fully on his back this time. He pushes the hoodie up just enough to reveal his tummy so he can kiss all over it, then rests his head there the same way David does with his snout.

Henry can’t help the small laugh that escapes him at the realization that his bloody dog knew he was pregnant long before he caught on. Fighting Alex about this is a losing battle, he knows. Secretly, he was hoping he’d say that. Nora’s words about just asking Alex for what he wants come back to him as he plays with his curls.

“You’re everything to me, Hen. Nothing will ever take priority over you, okay?”

It should be obvious, Henry knows, but he’s never been very self-assertive, continues to struggle with it even now. He will have to learn to advocate for himself and their baby just as he does for the children at the shelter.

He looks down at Alex and thinks maybe it won’t be so difficult.

—

They decide to keep the baby news to themselves while they navigate this truly extraordinary situation.

Every baby book, blog, and reddit form say the first three months are the most delicate for the fetus. Henry isn’t sure if all of the same rules will apply to him given the nature of his situation, but it’s probably better to treat it as such. It gives him some comfort to have available literature and research to lean on.

Alex is able to close out his case and take some time off, citing a medical emergency relating to Henry. Zahra looks at him suspiciously but approves it anyways, knowing nothing could stand in the way of Alex taking care of his husband. He suspects Shaan may have had a helping hand, too, as Henry pleaded for his book tour to be postponed again while he works through some health related things.

On August 22nd, exactly two weeks since the discovery of his unlikely pregnancy, Henry and Alex meet Dr. Esperanza, an OB/GYN specializing in unique pregnancies. The first thing they notice upon entering the clinic is the wall of pride flags just behind the receptionist. On the desk is a small but eye-catching sign that reads, “TRANS POSITIVE CARE.” Henry feels himself relax immediately, his grip on Alex’s hand loosening to a gentle hold.

She’s incredibly sweet and professional about the whole ordeal. She is significantly less shocked to learn Henry is, and has always been, male, than they had expected her to be. Her eyes grow sympathetic when Alex mentions the trio that magicked his husband.

“Oh, that Toña and Lucinda are always up to something,” she says with a smile and a shake of her head. Apparently, it’s not the first time abuela has done something like this. Alex decides not to ask—not that Dr. Esperanza would divulge that kind of information, anyway. Alex is intimately familiar with HIPAA laws, thank you. He might ask abuela about it later, though.

Henry quickly learns he’s not fond of the ultrasound process, the gel is too sticky and cold on his belly. He makes an off-hand comment about it and catches Alex opening his mouth to make a filthy remark, he’s sure of it, but stops himself at the glare he receives. He smirks at Henry anyways but stays quietly at his side, never letting his hand go.

He feels more positive about them when Dr. Esperanza says, “Great news, boys. Your baby looks incredibly healthy and happy. Take a look.”

A thumping sound fills the room as the screen displays a black and white image of a bean with a very distinct head shape and what Henry can only guess are limbs. He can just make out a tiny footprint as the tiny bean moves.

Dr. Esperanza moves the wand around his belly to get a full image, occasionally commenting on things but Henry can’t hear. He’s staring wide-eyed at the screen, then snaps his head to meet Alex’s eyes which are filled with tears.

“Holy sh*t. 155 bpm, is that..?”

“The heartbeat, yes. I’d put you at 10 weeks along, based on this image, so that’s a real heartbeat you’re hearing. I’d like you to come back every four weeks, alright? Sooner if you feel anything funny or weird.”

Henry honestly still can’t hear a damn word over the sound of their baby’s beating heart and the glassy appearance of Alex’s eyes. It’s real. Right before his eyes, physical evidence of a life growing in him. He thinks the grip he has on Alex’s hand is capable of cutting off blood circulation, but he doesn’t complain one bit. Alex just sends a shaky smile Henry’s way and takes in all of the information about gestation periods, recommended diets, and prenatal vitamins.

She gives them a CD with the video of the ultrasound and a few physical copies of the clearest image she could get. Henry holds onto that photo as if the secrets of the universe are etched onto it. It’s surreal.

They sit in the car quietly for several minutes after the visit, staring at the photo. Alex reaches out to lightly touch the white blob in the center and exhales a shaky breath.

Henry doesn’t even know what to say. Part of him thought that an ultrasound would reveal this was all a silly mistake, that actually he was just suffering from phantom pregnancy symptoms. He had read several stories about women who developed pseudocyesis—a false pregnancy—caused by an intense desire to get pregnant despite being unable to, and even some men experiencing couvade, a sort of sympathetic pregnancy. In both cases, the affected individual experienced very real pregnancy symptoms without the presence of a fetus.

It seemed realistic for Henry’s very emotional brain to trigger a physical response to his deepest desire, especially when combined with some magical tea.

This was irrefutable evidence.

Part of his brain had not yet accepted their reality, but now he simply had to. He had to face the tall wall of shame and guilt standing between him and the happiness he desperately wanted to feel about this situation.

They hadn’t really talked about it after that first night. Alex checked in every day with Henry to ask how he was feeling mentally and physically. He had brought home several books on parenting the next day, and created a new TikTok account to curate it with pregnancy recipes from dieticians, nutritionists, and real pregnant people. Alex was fully on board, that much was clear.

Still, Henry felt terrible about taking the choice away from him by to decide when and how to start a family. They hadn’t yet discussed whether they wanted to move into a forever home, or what their work situations would be like. It would be easier for Henry, given he already worked from home anyways. His involvement at the shelter might have to change for a while but not permanently. He couldn’t expect Alex to adjust his working hours. He was on the path to making partner, what if all this time off affected that? Henry would never be able to forgive himself. And if—

A gentle hand on his cheek pulls the breaks on his train of thoughts, bringing it to a gentle stop. He blinks rapidly and meets Alex’s curious eyes. There’s a thumb brushing gently under his eye, bringing his attention to the wetness there. Oh.

“What’s going on in that beautiful brain of yours?” Alex inquires in an almost whisper.

Henry’s woes have been self-inflicted, he realizes. Alex has asked every single day how he’s feeling, practically giving him the floor to bring up his worries and initiate these important conversations. Now feels like as good a time as any to start.

“Do you hate me?” is the first thing out of his mouth, against his will, and immediately regrets it at Alex’s stricken face.

“What?”

“That’s not what I meant to say. I meant… Christ, we weren’t supposed to end up with an accidental pregnancy. That’s supposed to be the benefit of being gay!”

Alex’s face relaxes to one of amusem*nt, biting back a smile but unable to hold back a snort. Henry glares at him.

“I’m sorry, baby, it’s just.. I’m pretty sure if one of us had female anatomy, we wouldn’t be any more careful. You cried the one time I did use a condom, remember?”

Henry’s cheeks heat up and he wishes they weren’t having this conversation in their car. He wishes they were on their couch, where he had plenty of pillows at his disposal to smother Alex with.

“You promised to never bring that up. I was drunk.”

“You were tipsy at best and sober enough to consent, but that’s not really the point, is it?” Alex sobers up a bit as he takes hold of both of Henry’s hands. “Please answer sincerely: Do you regret this? I won’t be—okay, I won’t lie, I will be hurt, but! I won’t hold it against you. If you don’t want to do this, we have options. You have options. Whatever you want, I’ll support you. I love you.”

Henry may always be in awe of this specimen of a man. He speaks so confidently despite the obvious tears welling in his eyes, the rapid blinking to hold them back. Henry knows Alex means every word he says. He would support Henry if he—but he doesn’t, is the thing. He truly wants to have this baby more than anything in the world.

He squeezes Alex’s hands as he shakes his head. He’s giving his husband the entirely wrong impression, tries to remedy it by saying, “I don’t have regrets. I really, very much want to do this. I’m..”

The words fight to stay hidden inside. Saying them outloud might make them true. Henry isn’t sure he’s strong enough to hear Alex agree the timing is all wrong and he would have wished to do this differently. He swallows a lump in his throat.

“I’m taking us home, drawing us a nice, bubbly bath, and you will tell me what’s plaguing you. Okay?”

Henry nods mutely. He uses the car ride home to get his thoughts in order, prepare what he wants to say. He holds the ultrasound to his heart protectively with one hand, the other rests over the hand Alex has on his thigh, which he occasionally squeezes to remind Henry that he’s there.

As soon as they step foot inside their apartment, Henry says, “Alex—“ but doesn’t get further, cut off by a sweet kiss. He blinks at Alex who only smiles and kisses him again, and again, and again. Henry easily melts into it, arms winding around his neck to pull him in closer. He’s just pushing his tongue into Alex’s welcoming mouth when said man pulls away.

“Bath first. I want you to be properly relaxed before we talk.”

The thing about marrying a damn good lawyer is that Henry loses 80% of their arguments—if they can even be called that, really. Their last proper argument arose over whose room they were turning into their master bedroom. It doesn’t happen often because Alex is happy to spoil Henry with all of his wishes, big and small, but the times they do disagree? Henry finds it easier to yield to his stubborn husband’s will.

Within minutes he finds himself naked in their extra bubbly tub, sitting between Alex’s legs with his back pressed against his broad chest. Alex keeps a hand over Henry’s tummy, gently petting it without realizing. It makes him feel so ridiculous for all of the guilt he’s feeling.

He tips his head back against Alex’s shoulder and finally admits everything, beginning with feeling sorry they couldn’t plan a family on their own time and ending with his guilt over stealing Alex’s choice. He manages to get through all of his words without stuttering—or worse, vomiting all over himself—which likely has more to do with the comforting hand on his stomach and the nose nuzzling his jaw occasionally.

Alex doesn’t interrupt a single time, just listens attentively. He waits until Henry makes it clear he’s done.

“Hen, the choice was taken away from you, too. You recognize that, right?”

“No—but—I told abuela and them that I wanted children with you, biological children. That’s why they gave me that drink.”

“Did you say we wanted kids straight away?”

“Well, no… I said we hadn’t talked about it yet but we’ve mentioned it..”

A kiss to his neck. “Exactly. The choice was made for us, kind of. The night of the wedding, that’s what they were going on about. Highest probability and vitamins. Plus, I politely asked if I could put a baby in here. You said yes. That feels like a choice, no?”

Henry turns enough to properly look at Alex. His husband has always been an unmitigated flirt and sometimes he can’t tell if Alex is just joking or being serious. The smirk on his face suggests a playfulness that is undermined by the sincerity in his eyes. Those brown eyes. They make him a terrible liar.

“If we did get to have the conversation first, when would you have wanted to start a family?”

“God, Henry, as soon as possible. Idealistically? Immediately. Realistically? After your book tour. We could settle into our newly wed life and come January, we could be buying strollers and building cribs.”

That stops Henry short. It shouldn’t, Alex was the first to bring up marriage and kids, albeit jokingly.

It dawns on him then that he’s assumed Alex was joking all along because of that pesky little insecurity that once tried convincing him Alex didn’t want anything long term with him. The whole time, he has been wearing his heart on his sleeve, dressing up his desires as throwaway one-liners to disguise his vulnerability.

Even back then, before the amnesia induced love confession. All those times he flirted with Henry and was unconsciously rebuffed, eventually accepting that Henry wasn’t into him when in reality Henry was just oblivious.

Henry feels like a dunce.

Alex suddenly starts again, faster and clearly flustered, “Um, obviously if you wanted to wait longer, that would have been cool, too. I wasn’t, like, set on that timeline or anything. Just. You know. A family with you is definitely on my bucket list. And if you never wanted kids—that would have been okay, too. God. f*ck. I’m talking too much.”

He clamps his mouth shut and tucks his chin to his chest bashfully, trying to hide the pretty blush spreading all over his cheeks and down his chest.

Oh.

“My love… You’re so—why do you keep doing that?”

“What?”

“Putting my wants above your own. Your wants are just as important.”

“Because I love you and…” Alex lets out a frustrated groan and hugs Henry closer to his chest so he can hide his face against the crook of his neck. “I don’t want you to regret choosing me, Hen. I’ll do whatever it takes to make you happy. I just.. That’s all I want. At the end of the day, if you’re healthy and smiling and still in love with me, then my life is perfect. Everything else is just extra, you know?”

Henry has to carefully maneuver his body so he can sit on Alex’s lap to properly face him. He trails delicate fingers up Alex’s chest towards his jaw, holding him gently as he kisses him absolutely breathless.

They’re doing it again. Maybe they’ll never outgrow being those two teenage boys desperate for each other’s love but too nervous to take it. Henry sure is ready to try, though. All the trust and love they have for each other should be enough to dispel those lingering insecurities. They exchanged vows, signed legally binding documents, they did everything possible to promise each other forever. Now they have proof of that love growing inside Henry.

“First of all, I will never regret you. I love you so much, I need to create a new universe just to fit it all. I want everything that you want, my love,” Henry states firmly when they pull apart. “I want to grant your every wish and spoil you, just as you have me.”

“Then… Henry, I want to start a family with you. I want to raise this little miracle with you. Maybe we’ll be terrible parents and decide one was enough. Maybe we’ll be fantastic parents and want more. We can figure that out later, yeah? Right now, my priority is you and our little bun.”

Those words come down like a hammer on that wall of guilt, crumbling it to dust. The jubilation that awaits him behind it is overwhelming, yet welcomed. He flashes a gummy smile at Alex before attacking him in a kiss meant to convey everything he feels. Alex’s enthusiasm suggests he gets it, feels just as strongly as Henry does.

They kiss until all the bubbles disappear from the water and their fingertips become pruny. Alex forces them out of the tub when the porcelain becomes unforgiving against his behind, loudly complaining of gluteal atrophy and how terribly Henry will mourn the loss of his ass if they stay inside a second longer.

Back in bed in matching jammies, courtesy of Nora, they lie facing each other and taking turns tracing every facial feature they can get their hands on.

“Hey,” Henry whispers. “I’ll be able to make your wish come true.”

“You already have, baby,” is Alex’s reply with an exaggerated wave of his left hand, emphasizing his ring.

“Another wish, then. Dr. Esperanza said I’m 10 weeks along, so a little over two months. Mathematically, we can expect them around March. We can go stroller shopping and crib building in January.”

Alex blinks a few times, his own brain running the numbers for itself. When he comes to the same conclusion as Henry, he grins wide and hugs him tightly.

“Hey.. That also means I did knock you up in one try on our honeymoon. Checkmate.”

They hold eye contact for five long, quiet seconds before they’re both laughing with tears brimming in their eyes.

“You are such an annoying prick. You’re gonna be so smug about that, aren’t you?”

“You know I love to fulfill a promise, baby,” Alex responds with a cheeky smile, dimples on full display.

Henry will blame his heightened hormones for the way he presses himself closer to Alex and rolls his hips as he says, “You can fully fill me, too,” in the most sultry voice he can manage.

His husband is hot and so bloody kind, can he be blamed? Alex Claremont-Diaz-Fox is a romance novel leading man, written by a woman for the female-gaze and Henry gets to benefit from that.

“Insatiable, needy slu*t,” Alex bites back with his hands sliding down Henry’s back to grab handfuls of his ass. “One baby just isn’t enough, hm?”

Henry whines pitifully and rolls his hips with more purpose in response, holding onto Alex’s shoulders for support. “I didn’t become pregnant by being reserved, my darling.”

This time, Alex does not hesitate to take Henry apart, piece by piece. He unravels more easily than a brand new skein of yarn, all he can do is beg Alex for more, more, more.

After they’ve caught their breath and exchanged a few soft kisses, Henry gently holds Alex’s jaw and holds his gaze.

“No more setting your desires aside, Mr. Fox,” He says playfully with a kiss to Alex’s scrunched up nose, which earns him a laugh.

“Hmph, better take your own advice and stop torturing yourself in that mind palace of yours, Mr. Claremont-Diaz.”

“Deal.”

“Deal.”

—

Henry welcomes the first week of September cured of morning sickness, traded away for a sore chest. Alex kisses and massages his pecs when the ache is uncomfortable and gifts him a large usb-heated frog pillow to use when he’s too sensitive to touch. Henry has to store the frog carefully because David has taken quite a liking to it, too, and he simply doesn’t have the heart to steal it away from his napping dog. Alex ends up buying a second one so everyone wins.

“I’m in the business of spoiling all of my babies. That includes you, Davey,” he’d said very seriously to the dog when he set the used frog on his bed.

Alex also keeps a calendar on their fridge, next to their first ultrasound, to mark off each week of the pregnancy. He throws a party at the end of Henry’s first trimester with all of Henry’s favorite snacks and more bizarre cravings, just the two of them. He’s pretty sure Alex has started a new journal to track Henry’s symptoms and moods, too. Without Alex’s support, Henry would have easily lost track of time already.

Every morning before his shower, he stands naked before their mirror and turns his body every which way to note any changes, both relieved and disappointed to not find any yet. He keeps wondering when he’ll develop a bump, if at all. He rather craves it, despite the mild apprehension of all the discomfort that comes with growing the size of a watermelon. It’s another reminder that this is really happening, against every logic of the universe.

Alex, whose work hours have been adjusted and gets to spend more time at home if he’s not in court, will come into the bathroom and hold Henry from behind. His hands are drawn to Henry’s stomach, as his mouth litters kisses all over his neck and shoulders. Henry’s apprehension of growing larger reduces with the knowledge that Alex loves his squishier bits and will always find him attractive.

It’s great news for Henry’s increased libido by week 14.

He’s has always been fond of sex with Alex. The man is built like a Greek God, with his large hands that always make Henry feel dainty and small when they hold his waist, and a larger co*ck that never fails to make him drool. Alex gives as good as he takes, Henry can proudly say he’s always left sated and soupy when they’ve had their fill of each other.

With all the morning sickness and fatigue worn off, and an increase in hormone production in the second trimester, Henry feels embarrassingly insatiable. He seeks Alex out like a bloody succubus, a permanent heat thrumming through his veins.

He tries to hold back and take care of himself with the array of toys they’ve collected over the years, though it’s never enough. They don’t stretch nor fill him the way Alex does.

Sometimes he breaks.

He'll find Alex in his office and sit at his feet with his co*ck in his mouth until Alex can take him to bed. Alex frequently takes him right there on his desk, no care given to the documents soiled in their fluids. He shrugs and nonchalantly states, “Nothing I can’t reprint.”

At their week 14 visit, Dr. Esperanza asks about his sex drive and Henry has to admit with flushed cheeks that he’s at a 10 on most days. She is delighted to hear they are still quite intimate and encourages it, claiming physical intimacy is beneficial to all three parties—pregnant dad, partner, and baby—by the release of oxytocin and by nurturing a partnership that isn’t only dedicated to being co-parents.

“Don’t abstain from sex if you need it and it still feels good. Obviously you know your body best, so if anything doesn’t feel comfortable, you stop. Don’t worry about the baby, though. They don’t feel a thing, they’re quite safe in there. Have fun and enjoy each other!”

She hands Alex a pamphlet outlining recommended sex positions by trimester. He flips through it and sends Henry a smirk that spells trouble and melts his insides like ice cream in the summer sun. Henry squirms in his seat, cursing his libido for making him so hot for Alex from just one look. Dr. Esperanza laughs and sends them on their way.

In the car, Alex says, “You know you don’t have to hold back with me, right? Making you cum is my favorite hobby.”

Henry whines and crosses his legs, attempting to downplay how affected he is at this very moment. Alex reaches over to grip his thigh, pushing his fingers between the clamped thighs. Bastard.

“It’s almost every day, I feel mad with it. What if you’re tired?” It’s a very valid concern. Henry has never felt this perpetually horny before, just a light breeze makes him hard. Waking up next to Alex with his bare chest, messy curls, and sweet smile have been torturous. He wants to be ravished like a lost gazelle in a lion’s den—it’s bad.

“I’m hereby officially granting you the right to use me however you please, sweetheart. Any time, anywhere, whether I’m asleep, awake, or anywhere in between. I’m yours.”

Alex encourages Henry’s thighs to part so he can more comfortably slide a hand inside his pants to stroke him lazily. It makes Henry wither and moan, holding Alex’s wrist tightly but not to pull him away.

“If—if you’re not feeling it, you’ll tell me to stop?”

“Yes, baby. Just like I expect you to pull the plug on anything if you change your mind mid-way.”

“Okay. Get us home, darling.”

Henry thinks it’s a bit funny that pregnancy, of all things, is what finally pushed them over the line between ‘blanket consent’ into straight up ‘freeuse.’ When he comments on it, Alex just shrugs and says it was bound to happen eventually. It has Henry dropping to his knees the second Alex closes their front door behind him.

If they begin their mornings with Alex pushing slowly into him in the same position they fell asleep, then slipping a buttpl*g in once he’s done to keep Henry stretched and ready to be filled again later, that’s their business alone. It makes him more grateful that they’ve kept the pregnancy to themselves because they don’t have to worry about unannounced visit showing up when Henry decides to ride Alex on the couch in the middle of a movie, or when he eats Alex out while he’s preparing their dinner.

More often than not, he’s the one f*cking Alex hard and fast into their mattress, couch, bathroom wall, kitchen table—basically, any surface available to them. Alex is the one to suggest it, reminding Henry he’ll be limited in what they can do once his belly grows. He says it nonchalantly but Henry immediately notes his pink ears and the way he picks at the beds of his nails.

His husband is so f*cking cute. After everything they’ve done to each other, he still gets shy asking to be the one receiving.

After a particularly mind blowing org*sm, Alex confesses that he feels greedy and selfish asking to be taken care of because Henry is doing all the heavy lifting by carrying their baby. He feels he should be protecting and providing, rather than taking. He acknowledges he’s fallen into a very heteronormative and slightly misogynistic mindset but doesn’t know how to shake himself out of it.

Henry laughs because, well, he has started thinking of himself in a similar way. Despite what Dr. Esperanza said about the baby being well protected, Henry feels more frail.

He pushes sweaty curls back so he can kiss Alex’s forehead and allows him to tuck himself under Henry’s chin, finding comfort in his arms. Alex presses his cheek against his collarbones, sighing contentedly at the fingers that detangle his hair.

“I love making you feel good, though. Also… I don’t exactly mind being treated delicately by you, you know.”

“It doesn’t offend you?”

“Mmm, no. As long as you know that I’m still capable of protecting and caring for you on your low days, I’m happy being doted on.”

“Of course. You’re my rock, Hen. I want to spoil you because you’re my baby, not because I think you’re weak.”

Henry lights up at that. He never wants to stop being Alex’s baby.

“Your baby is carrying your baby.”

“My f*cking babies, I would lay my life down for you two,” Alex states solemnly.

Henry snorts. “Alright, but don’t. We need you alive and well.”

“No, of course. Who else will keep you sated and sexually conquered if not me?”

“Speaking of..” Henry says in a low voice as he rolls Alex onto his back and climbs onto his lap such that their co*cks are pressed together. He looks down at Alex with a predatory smile as he says, “I sure could use some sexual conquering right about now.”

Alex is more than happy to provide.

—

Pregnancy symptoms return with a vengeance in October.

He wakes up with a start in the middle of the night, accidentally knocking Alex, who was previously curled up on his chest, off the bed. Henry blinks rapidly and flattens a hand over his stomach.

“Babe, what the f*ck?” Alex grumbles from the ground, peaking at Henry just over the edge of the mattress with a glare and a pout.

“Oh, my love—Are you okay?” Henry asks as he hurriedly clambers over the edge of the bed to help his husband up.

“No concussion, far as I can tell,” he jokes a bit sardonically, pout ever present as he makes himself comfortable again on his side of the bed.

“I’m so sorry, I thought I felt…” Henry trails off, sitting next to Alex with his hands rubbing his stomach. The pout is instantly wiped off his husband’s face, traded for a look of concern. He sits up too and scoots closer to Henry.

“Are you okay? Do we need to go to the hospital?”

“No, no,” he says with a shake of his head. He takes one of Alex’s hands to hold over his stomach. Alex continues to look at his face in concern. “I felt.. Fluttering, or something. I think.. Little bun is awake. Can you feel that?”

Alex frowns in concern but shakes his head after a while. His hand doesn’t move, though. It remains on Henry’s tummy, petting him gently.

“They might not be moving enough for me to feel.”

Henry deflates a bit, shoulders slumping. “Oh… Maybe it’s just indigestion. I’m sorry to have awoken you, my love.”

“Hey, no. You’re at 16 weeks now, right? Dr. Esperanza said you might start feeling movement soon.”

Henry nods but isn’t very convinced. Alex takes his face gently into his hands and kisses him softly, then shimmies down the bed to kiss his tummy.

“Hey little bun, if you can hear me in there: Hi, I’m Alex, your other papa. Can we let daddy sleep? He has a very important meeting tomorrow. You can play all morning long, okay?” Alex presses another kiss to the same spot.

The action is so tender, it springs tears to Henry’s eyes. Hearing Alex call himself papa is really doing a number on his heart. He thought husband was a thing of dreams but this? Henry’s heart feels too big for his body.

He eventually settles back into bed, happy to be the little spoon so he can drown in Alex’s warmth. He doesn’t feel the fluttering again all night, but it’s only the beginning of many sleepless nights.

—

Week 17 is when Henry notes some changes to his body. He squints at his reflection as he turns to the side and oh—

He touches his chest first. The tenderness and swelling has progressively returned over the past week but now his…his tit* feel squishy and bigger than before. It’s not a massive difference but gone are the firm pectorals he has become accustomed to seeing. The horny part of his brain wonders if his nipples have become anymore sensitive, if Alex will be more enticed by his chest than normal.

Then there’s his belly.

Henry hasn’t had a flat stomach since undergrad. He remembers his weight gain was a steady thing during post-grad, when Alex began cooking frequent home meals and packing dinner for Henry to take to the library with him during the peak of his thesis stress.

The way it looks now is a bit different, though. His stomach sticks out just a centimeter or so from his pelvis. It looks and feels firm in the middle. He stares and stares and stares until a stinging in the back of his eyes causes him to blink.

The first sign of a baby bump.

He regrets not taking pictures all along to record his bump progression, but quickly amends that by slipping on some boxers and snapping a picture, body angled to show off the bump very clearly.

He debates for a minute before texting the image to Alex with a heart emoji. Unfortunately today was a court day, so his husband had left early in the morning with a kiss to his forehead and another to his tummy. It was only 10 AM, he was likely still arguing his case before a judge and wouldn’t see the text until much later.

Thankfully, Henry had quite a bit to do. He had promised Pez he would stop by the shelter to help plan their Halloween Ball. He could still fit into all of his normal clothes and didn’t look much different, so he could still go about his day pretending all was well. He had to field some questions about his alleged illness while feeling guilty that he was keeping such a massive secret from his best friend and sister.

Alex and Henry had agreed to keep this for themselves just a bit longer. He had just convinced Shaan to change his book tour dates to the end of November and early December, when he could hopefully still hide his growing belly with big jumpers and cardigans, and his OB/GYN appointments were still scheduled once a month. The new schedule would have him home before the start of his third trimester and he’d be able to hide away at home, free of all obligations—until Christmas.

It was a bit insane, probably, but that was when they would announce the pregnancy. They had toured the brownstone Henry had been eying a few days ago and had their agent place a bid on it. If everything worked out, then they would be hosting Christmas dinner in their new home with both of their families. It made most sense to break the news then.

Just as they’re wrapping up the planning meeting and he’s agreeing to brunch with Pez next weekend, he feels his phone buzzing incessantly in his pocket.

My Darling Husband 💍💗
ASKDBWISNAK

BABY OH YMGOD

ALDBWISNA

HUBBA HUBBA 😍🤤

YOUR BUMPPPP OHFBIEKNA

IM CRYIGN?

Wowowowowow i want to eat you so bad

Oh ymg fod

Im broken

You broke me

I need to kiss you immediately, all over your body

Are you home?

Im coming home.

Each text makes Henry’s cheeks burn, likely resembling a fire truck at this point. He decides to send Alex a selfie just outside the shelter with a message that reads

Baby (HCDF) 🥰
I’m just leaving the shelter. I was helping Percy and the other staffers plan the Halloween party. I’ll be home in twenty.

My Darling Husband 💍💗
youre so f*cking handsome oh my god

get home fast before someone steals you away wtf

need to be in you immediately

Baby (HCDF) 🥰
You’re ridiculous. Please get home safely ❤️

And because he’s feeling incredibly good about himself, he takes another mirror selfie. This time he’s naked with his arse on full display. He’s bent forward a bit to show off a bare glint of the buttpl*g nestled inside him.

Baby (HCDF) 🥰
[image.jpg]

I’ll be waiting ❤️

My Darling Husband 💍💗
HENRY I f*ckING DIED

IM DEAD

WHAT IS YOUR PROBLEM

When Alex returns home to Henry casually lounging on their bed on his forearms and knees, a pillow tucked just under his belly, he lets Alex have his way. He finds out that yes, his nipples are more sensitive now and a resounding f*ck yes, Alex is obsessed with his growing chest.

They end up with Alex sitting on his knees with Henry in a reverse cowgirl position, knees bent and feet firmly planted on the bed to lift himself off and back on Alex’s co*ck. Henry’s hands grip his thighs for support, while Alex keeps one hand cupping his chest to squeeze and fondle his tit* to his heart’s content, and the other gently resting on his bump. It’s the best org*sm Henry’s had, ever.

He feels high on endorphins and the intimacy of it all, warmed by Alex’s easy acceptance of his changing body. The whispered praises of how beautiful he is, how sexy his baby bump looks and how yummy his chest tastes, really send his mind to outer space.

“Oh f*ck, I don’t know if I can keep my hands off you, Hen. You’re so f*cking gorgeous, I was made to worship every bit of you,” Alex groans as they enjoy post-coital cuddles.

Sure enough, Henry loses track of who initiates sex first. Their lust feels more intense than week 12, when his sex-drive was at an all-time high. This is entirely driven by love and the desire to be intimately close, rather than a mechanism to get off. Henry feels like he’s glowing from how loved up he is.

Dr. Esperanza comments on it during their week 18 visit. They both smile bashfully at each other. They’re well in their thirties, acting like teenagers.

Henry’s vitals return normal and she excitedly tells them they can schedule an anomaly scan in two weeks, which will tell them more about the health of the baby and the sex, if they wish to know it. She also encourages them to start talking to the baby and playing music, as they’re starting to develop their hearing. She warns them sleeping will become increasingly difficult, as the baby is expected to begin moving and kicking around more obviously.

The bad news is that their little bun is training to be an elite gymnast and sleep evades Henry on most nights thereafter. He’s quite familiar with insomnia ridden nights so it’s not the worst, but it does turn him rather nocturnal. Little bun sleeps all day long and parties all night, forcing Henry to adjust his sleeping schedule.

Henry’s awake all night long, reading and drafting his follow-up book. He even picks up knitting again, a very short lived hobby from when he was a teen. He’s still awake by the time Alex wakes up, so he begins preparing breakfast and his coffee before he’s off to work. He gets the hang of pancakes and bacon quickly, and attempts more complex things like french toast and crepes. Those take a bit longer, but Alex praises him all the same.

He then ends up napping most of the morning and afternoon, waking up when Alex gets home to spend their evenings together. It’s sort of Henry’s favorite part of the day.

Sometimes Henry will sit on Alex’s lap and read aloud from his favorite book, comfy and warm on their couch. Other times, they go out on dinner dates of varying degrees of fanciness—from falafel carts to black suit establishments. Alex always picks out the place, ensuring their menu has pregnancy friendly foods. When they want to leave the house but not spend so much energy, they pack up a picnic and take it to their favorite dog park with David happily trotting along.

—

On the day of their week 20 scan, Alex is devastated when he’s called into the office. The new case he’s working involves a divorce with a nasty custody battle caused by well-documented physical abuse of two young girls. A breach in a restraining order has all hands on deck to ensure the safety of these girls.

Henry kisses him deeply by their doorway before he goes.

“I’m so f*cking sorry, mi amor. I really wish I didn’t have to go.”

“It’s okay, truly. You’re doing really important work. Those girls need you. Little bun and I are so proud of you.”

“But the sex reveal..” Alex laments, pressing his forehead to Henry’s and squeezing his hip.

“We can have a private sex reveal party. It’ll be wonderful, don’t you worry. Now go and come back to me soon.”

“I love you so much, Hen.”

“I love you more, husband.”

Alex gasps indignantly. “Rude and wrong!”

“My love and little bun’s love is combined, so I love you two people’s worth, dear.”

Alex tries to look upset by that but he grins, gums and dimples on full display. It’s maybe a bit evil, but Henry loves using their baby against Alex—for good, of course.

Henry sends him off with one last kiss after he relents.

He is sad Alex can’t make it, but Henry would never hold his job against him. In a way, he’s glad to know they can find a work-life balance. Although his baby bump grows a bit more with each week that passes, he’s still able to move rather freely so getting to the clinic on his own is no feat. He knows that if this were an emergency visit, rather than the routine check-up that it is, Alex would move heaven and earth to be there. That assurance is enough.

—

Henry decides to bake a cake.

He had looked up some simple ideas for an intimate sex reveal and came across videos of couples cutting into a cake colored the traditional blue or pink. Simple enough, he thought as he picked up cake mix and red food coloring from the grocery store after his appointment. He even looks up a tutorial online to ensure his cake bakes correctly.

It turns out fine, he thinks. The outside looks rather orange but he knows the color inside is different from the crust, so he gets to work frosting the cake in a white buttercream. The top is decorated by a simple heart outline made with cut strawberries and blueberries.

From the outside, it looks perfect.

He feels very optimistic about the whole ordeal, having enough time to clean the kitchen and toss a quick pasta salad for dinner before Alex arrives home that evening.

Henry quickly learns that his baking skills leave much to be desired when they simultaneously cut into the cake with clean glasses and the inside is almost as orange as the outside.

Alex blinks at the cake and asks, “Orange?”

Henry feels incredibly disappointed because he truly worked hard! How was he to know he hadn’t used enough red? He feels like an idiot for not picking up the strawberry cake mix with the image of a pink cake on the box. He just thought to go simple with vanilla.

He doesn’t realize he’s crying until Alex hugs his head to his shoulder, whispering that it’s okay.

“I did my best, I really tried to make this perfect.. I’m such a failure. How can I raise a child if I can’t even bake a colored cake? Christ.”

“Oh, baby… Don’t be so hard on yourself. The cake turned out great! You’re going to be a wonderful dad, Hen, because you care so much,” Alex reassures him while gently petting his hair.

“But I ruined the surprise…”

“I honestly still have no idea what sex our little bun is. Hey, how about you give me either a strawberry for girl or a blueberry for boy? I’ll close my eyes.”

It’s… Not a bad idea, actually. Alex hurries to close his eyes and opens his mouth for Henry to delicately slide the fruit inside. He places a hand on Alex’s jaw to signal he can chew.

Alex chews a few times before his eyes fly open and he flies off his seat with a sound of surprise.

“A girl?! We’re having a girl?”

Henry nods just once, unsure whether Alex’s reaction is positive or negative. He doesn’t have to wonder for long as Alex lifts him off his seat and twirls him around, laughing gleefully. All Henry can do is hold on tight and join his husband in his joy.

“Oh my god, baby! I’m gonna f*cking cry. Our little princess…” Alex sets his husband back on his feet, then covers his face in kisses.

Henry laughs wetly and clings onto Alex for dear life, suddenly exhausted from feeling too many big emotions. He had cried at the clinic when he found out, even though he truly had no preference. He was going to love their baby no matter what, but knowing they were healthy and developing well enough to know the sex was incredibly relieving.

“It’s time to start brainstorming names. We can’t call her little bun forever.”

Alex suddenly lifts Henry and sits him down on the kitchen island. He bends down enough to be eye-level with the baby bump.

“Hi, princesa. I can’t wait to meet you. Be good for daddy, he’s doing his best to keep you healthy.”

Henry feels movement in his belly in response. He swore he didn’t have any tears left, yet here he is. He runs his fingers through Alex’s hair as he says, “I think she’s trying to say hello. She must be excited to meet you, too.”

Alex presses a hand against the bump and pouts at the lack of movement.

“… Maybe be less good for daddy when I’m around. I want to feel you, too.”

“Demon! Don’t turn our daughter against me already!” Henry says with a laugh as he feels more fluttering.

—

It’s sort of a miracle that Henry’s pregnancy is a well kept secret until late November, when he accidentally spills the beans to Pez.

They meet up for their long standing brunch date the Saturday before his book tour is set to start. Pez refused to let Henry travel the whole of the U.S. for nearly three weeks without seeing him first, especially because he was due for a trip back to Nigeria himself. It was the least Henry could do, after his best friend changed his Christmas and end of year plans to stay in the States for, what he had taken upon himself to dub, the Great Claremont-Diaz-Fox Nest Warming Party.

“Bottomless mimosas, dear?” Pez asks without glancing away from the menu in his hands. They were trying out a new spot that was coincidentally closer to Dr. Esperanza’s clinic. She had wanted to see Henry before his trip, so Henry had gone there prior to joining Pez. His friend hadn’t asked questions, he’s quite the foodie at heart.

“Oh, no thank you. Alex and I are meeting with our realtor after this, title signing and all.”

It wasn’t exactly a lie. They did have to meet with the realtor, but the truth was that Alex was currently doing that. Henry could trust his lawyer husband to read all the fine print, after all.

“More for me then. How is that delectable strumpet of yours, anyway? You look absolutely glowing. I take it he’s keeping you appropriately loved up,” he says with a smirk. It’s more shocking that Pez is being polite about it. It might be the public setting.

Henry blushes anyway, “You can definitely say that. He’s quite…energetic.”

“Let’s toast to that,” Pez delights just as their server is setting a bottle of champagne on the table. He politely passes a glass to Henry, who looks at it quite dubiously.

“I really shouldn’t,” Henry begins politely but Pez scoffs.

“Oh, come on. One glass of champagne won’t do you harm. You forget I know your alcohol tolerance.”

“Yes, just. Erm. I haven’t really consumed much alcohol since the wedding, is all…” Henry tries, fielding Pez’s incredulity as vaguely as possible.

But it’s Pez, of course he doesn’t give in so easily.

“Bad for the baby, is it?” he says jokingly, the smirk reserved for teasing Henry clear on his face. Henry freezes anyway, placing a hand over his stomach.

His cheeks heat up more.

“Um.”

That wipes thes smirk right off Pez’s face. He stares at Henry with wide eyes, mouth slightly ajar. He glances down to where Henry’s hand is just barely hidden by the edge of the table. His jaw drops more.

“I’m sorry, what? You—Henry George Edward James, you absolute bastard. Are you actually pregnant?” he whisper-shouts, leaning in closer to keep the conversation strictly between them. While Pez might not be known for subtlety, he is aces at discretion.

Henry shrinks in on himself, hugging his stomach a bit more protectively.

Part of the reason they hadn’t told anyone yet was because Henry didn’t want to invite judgment in. He’s comfortable with their situation now, after 24 weeks of check ups and assurances that his daughter is in perfect condition, and with Alex’s unwavering love and support. He’s the happiest he has ever been since before his father passed.

June and Nora had not mentioned it to him since the pregnancy test debacle, and the only two people who did know were unwaveringly supportive and positive. He wasn’t sure how to act in the face of skepticism. His eyes welled up with tears.

Pez, who had known him damn near since the womb, noted Henry’s distress immediately. He called their server over to close out their check and escorted Henry out without drawing any attention. He waited until they made it to a quiet park just around the corner to pull Henry into a hug, careful to not squeeze too hard.

It was only then that he felt Henry’s protruding stomach against his own.

“Oh, Hen, congratulations!”

Henry held onto his friend, shoulders a bit tense but not daring to pull away and risk meeting his eyes. He held back his tears as best as he could.

“I know it’s weird and unnatural and utterly f*cked up, but I’m—I am, and she’s really healthy and I love her so much, Pez. It would mean the world if you could come to love her, too,” he says in a rush before he loses his nerve. Then he’s spilling every gory detail, from the tea with the Diaz ladies, to every OB/GYN visit to date. He even confesses Alex is with the realtor right now.

“You utter dolt,” Pez chastises him. He forces them apart to give Henry a stern look. “You could be a bloody mermaid and I’d love you all the same.”

Henry immediately relaxes at those words, a brand new set of tears welling up in his eyes. Gratitude, he thinks.

“I’m not sure I can wrap my mind around the ‘how’ of it, but if there’s anyone capable of conceiving a child purely out of love, I’m not at all shocked it’s you and Alexander.”

Henry smiles despite himself because, well, true.

“I don’t think the ‘how’ is anyone’s business, anyway. I am absolutely ecstatic for you. I love her already on the basis that she’s making you so happy and radiant.” Pez ends his impassioned speech with a firm nod. His face says it all: He loves Henry and accepts him for all he is, will ever be, in every life they share.

Henry collapses into his arms like a house of cards. The bond he shares with Pez is so special to him. He truly has seen it all, including the lovesick bits he hid from Alex. Henry genuinely worried this could be a breaking point in their friendship and feels incredibly weightless by the relief that it won’t be.

He really needs to stop thinking everyone will leave him behind.

He becomes so overwhelmed with emotion that Alex must be called for back-up. The man is there within minutes, looking his husband over for any injuries and kissing him gently. He wraps Henry in a protective hold, whispering sweet nothings that only he can hear.

Pez can only smile at the tender display, feeling warm and fuzzy for his friend. He’s known for so long that these idiots belong together and spent far too long watching them dance around each other. Seeing them together now, loving each other freely and proudly, makes Pez feel like a proud parent.

He loves Henry and he’s so glad for him, even when Alex turns a distrusting glare his way. Pez just smiles wider.

“What did you do to my husband?” He demands, putting himself between the two Englishmen.

Pez shouldn’t laugh but he can’t help it. This is who Alex has always been: Henry’s protector, through and through.

“Nothing, I swear, your honor. I would wager your daughter is the culprit,” Pez answers solemnly.

“My—you know?”

“Sorry, babes. Cat’s out of the bag but he’s perfectly safe with me. In fact, I’ve adopted the cat and now he’ll live with me so he doesn’t accidentally tell anyone else.”

Alex doesn’t relax until he turns back to Henry and sees him smiling. Henry is a few short weeks from his third trimester and it’ll become more difficult to hide his body even with loose fitting clothing. Perhaps it’s okay to slowly let some people in on the secret.

He’s already showing early signs of ankle swelling and twinges of lower back pain. The pregnancy pillow Alex had ordered online certainly helped on most nights, but his sleep schedule was still quite terrible. Henry wouldn’t mind some extra help when Alex isn’t home. In fact, he thinks it would also alleviate some of his husband’s stress if he knew Henry wasn’t going through any of it alone.

As much as Alex wishes to be there every step of the way, not being allowed a phone in a courtroom is bound to be a problem soon enough.

So, they agree to let their close friends in. Technically, only Bea is without knowledge now and Henry feels quite sick about that.

June and Nora had been waiting at the edge of their seats for updates but respected both men enough to stay out of their business. They lose their minds when Alex texts them their week 20 ultrasound with the message, “Healthy, growing, debuting March 2027.”

Junie Bug 🪲
ALEXANDER GABRIEL CLAREMONT DIAZ FOX

ANSWER YOUR PHONE THIS SECOND

evil in corporeal form 🐍
link to baby registry

Bea is a little more difficult to get a hold of as she traverses through several timezones in the span of one week. Henry is adamant about video chatting with her rather than texting. His new sleep schedule works in his favor as he finally gets the call notification around 3 AM the morning he’s set to travel. Alex had stayed awake with him all night, lamenting not being able to take all three weeks of the tour off, so they’re both able to greet Bea.

“Hen! I was so worried when I saw your message. Is everything alright?”

“Everything is perfect. I hope you’re taking care of yourself. Where are you?”

“Seychelles, it’s truly beautiful out here. You should come visit sometime. Hello, Alex!”

“Hi Bea.”

“Anyway, what's this about? It sounded quite urgent. I’m glad to see it’s not about a divorce.”

“Don’t even put that into the universe, what the hell?” Alex grumbles, snatching the phone out of Henry’s hand so he can glare clearly into the camera. Then, he flips it so an image of Henry in all of his shirtless glory is clearly displayed.

In the privacy of their home, Henry has taken to lounging in just boxers and an oversized cardigan, only the top two buttons done up. He liked for his belly to be exposed if he didn’t absolutely have to be dressed. Alex was a big fan of it, too, as it gave him free access to kiss and touch Henry’s bare belly as he pleased.

That’s exactly how he sat in bed now, both hands delicately cradling his bump.

A few seconds pass quietly before Bea starts screaming and the call disconnects. She calls back just as quickly, still screaming.

“How far along are you?! Oh my god, oh my god, I’m going to be an aunt.”

“You’re taking the pregnant-man part of it surprisingly well…” Henry comments, squinting his eyes suspiciously.

“Darling, you quite literally cried the night of your engagement party because you got too drunk and, in your words, ‘Alex refused to f*ck a baby into you unless you were sober.’ You were a bit too tearful for it to have been just a sex thing,” she says with a laugh.

Alex’s head snaps up to look at Henry, who’s red from his forehead to his navel.

“Stop talking. Immediately.”

“I even offered to be your surrogate if you truly wanted children and you cried more because it wouldn’t be in ‘your tummy.’ You really don’t remember?” She continues because what are older sisters for if not to embarrass their baby brothers?

“I’m going to hire a sniper to take you out. Count your days,” he tries to say as menacingly as possible. Bea just laughs more.

“Wait. Tell me more. I don’t remember,” Alex cuts in.

“Sure, he went on about the size of your c—“

“It was so lovely to see you, Bea, but we are just utterly knackered here. Good night. Talk to you never. I hope something eats you out there. Kisses.”

Henry snatches the phone out of Alex’s hands with the skills of a chopstick-wielding fly catcher, ends the call, and throws it across the room.

Alex grins that stupid, bone-liquifying smile just as Henry dives to hide under the covers. It’s all in vain as Alex carefully climbs half on top of him to hug him through the sheets.

“My f*cking baby, I am so obsessed with you. I’ll give you all the babies. We’ll start our own soccer team.”

“Get off me, vermin! I need to sleep!”

“You love me soooo bad,” Alex sing-songs and breaks out into giggles. “Oh my god, you’re so cute. I can’t.”

“I’m going to Gone Girl you.”

“No, you won’t. I microchipped you in anticipation of your escape. I’m keeping you around forever.”

Henry peeks out of the covers, hair all mussed and cheeks still red.

“Forever?”

“Mhmm.”

He wiggles. He wonders if he can blame pregnancy for how soupy he feels. He’s so weak for Alex, it’s actually embarrassing.

Alex eventually joins him under the covers and holds him close, alternating between kissing whatever skin he can reach and whispering ‘i love you’s. Henry feels fluttering in his stomach like their baby is in on the joke.

—

December is terrible. Awful. No good.

The book tour goes incredibly well. Henry is shocked and utterly humbled by the amount of people that show up to hear him discuss his debut novel, his writing process, and everything in between. Each person he meets is so excited to chat with him as he signs their book. Some people give him gifts, even. He almost cries when someone says, “Your husband is so lucky to be loved by such a beautiful heart!” If only they knew he’s the truly lucky one, how beautiful Alex’s heart is in comparison.

He misses Alex, though. Two weeks of traveling and being away from the love of his life really messes with his emotional well being. He swears he’s not clingy, he’s perfectly capable of being apart from Alex for long hours as they tend to work, spend time with friends, participate in individual activities, etc.—but at home, they could end their day together. No matter the time, they always found themselves back in bed like two back-facing parentheses.

The hotels he stays in night after night are just okay. The beds can never compare to the one he shares at home with his husband, far too cold with too much space to be truly comfortable. His sleep hygiene is worse than ever without an Alex shaped body next to him.

He’s glad he packed his usb-heated frog that smells faintly of Alex. His lower back seems to ache no matter what position he’s in, made worse by the increased activity in his belly. He gets the feeling that he isn’t the only one suffering from Alex withdrawals.

Little bun tosses and turns far more frequently than Henry is used to. It happens once during a Q&A section on week two of the tour, it makes him freeze for just a second. He’s glad he doesn’t use social media much so he can avoid reading anything fans have to say about that.

Then there’s the increased bathroom breaks and sudden clumsiness.

When he’s alone in the privacy of his room, Henry talks to her as he gently pets his own bump, saying, “I know, dear. I miss him, too. He’ll join us soon, don’t worry.”

They FaceTime every night and Henry swears there’s less restless activity when he holds the phone closer to his belly so Alex can talk to it.

“Are you being good to daddy, princesa?” he asks softly.

“No, she’s being very temperamental. She’s a total papa’s girl, she misses you quite a lot.”

“And you?”

“So much, Alex. Whatever happened to handcuffing ourselves together? It’s cruel to be away from you for so long,” Henry pouts.

Alex finally joins him on the last week of the tour, which takes him to Texas, California, and ends in Washington state. Embarrassingly, Henry cries when he spots his husband waiting at the airport terminal with flowers and a large sign that reads, “Welcome Back, BABY!” Relief crashes into him like ocean waves he readily welcomes. Henry’s belly has grown to the size of a cauliflower head and isn’t able to hold Alex as tightly as he wishes he could, but being able to touch is enough.

The last week of the tour coincides with 26 weeks–6 whole months pregnant—when Alex finally feels their baby move.

They’re lounging on the lake house dock—the place that started it all—with Alex’s head on Henry’s thighs, his cheek and a hand pressed to the bump. He’s not entirely tuned into the conversation Alex is having with their baby until movement he can only describe as a kick jolts his brain to be present.

He just barely registers Alex whispering, “I love you so much, princesa. I can’t wait for you to fall in love with daddy, too. He’s so cool.”

Alex gapes up at Henry, eyes wide and glassy. He’s trying to form words but only a whine escapes him.

“Oh, did you feel that?”

“Yes—was that—?”

Henry grins, gummy and wide, nodding a few times. “I’ve never felt her do that. I think she’s happy.”

Somehow, Alex’s touch feels more delicate after that. He continues to tell their baby about some shenanigans with David and a poodle that is met with more tumbling and kicking. Henry’s just amused by it because of course their daughter is just as obsessed with Alex’s voice as Henry is, captivated by the energetic way he tells a story.

—

When they finally return to New York in mid-December, it’s to their fully furnished and decorated brownstone—courtesy of June, Nora, and Pez. Henry feels incredibly grateful. As much as he would have loved and preferred to decorate with Alex himself, he knows his new achy joints would have protested that.

Alex shows him to the nursery room, which sits empty except for a large bean-bag looking chair and a small bookshelf.

“I didn’t want to decorate this space without you but I did get started. That’s our ‘reading to baby’ corner.”

Henry sits down and is delighted to find out the big seat is more firm than a beanbag but gentle enough on all his sore muscles. Alex sits on the ground by his feet as he shows him some of the books he’d started the shelf with, including The Little Prince and a few books Henry had mentioned in passing that Arthur used to read him as a child.

Alex remembering those titles shouldn’t be so shocking, not when he keeps journals to document Henry’s pregnancy symptoms and several excel sheets on things Henry does and doesn’t like. The kink one was very eye opening. He’d included dates for when a kink was mentioned, it’s no wonder his litigation success rate is 97%. Still, Henry feels so overwhelmed.

He might never get used to the way Alex loves and the cycle of falling in love with him would never end.

Gentle fingers thread through untamed curls to tug as Henry settles more comfortably on the chair and parts his legs.

An invitation.

Alex’s eyes quickly meet deep blues, blown wide and curious. Henry smiles far too innocently as he says, “You’re such a wonderful husband, Alex. Always a good boy for me.”

Maybe he will feel a little bit of shame when their daughter sleeps in the same room Alex worshiped him like a God, but all Henry felt in that moment was pleasure and love.

—

It’s that love alone that gets Henry through Christmas at 28 weeks pregnant.

His body is officially no longer his body, just a vessel for their little girl to grow and thrive. He develops a very complicated love-hate relationship with it.

On one hand, he is absolutely elated to learn little bun is hitting all her growth milestones and is moving around as she should, as uncomfortable as it can be at night. On the other hand, he has to wear sports bras because his chest grew at least a cup size larger and—humiliatingly—has started leaking.

Alex thinks it’s hot because he’s not the one changing his t-shirt every few hours or carrying a face towel at home to wipe off milk-like rivulets off his torso at random intervals of the day. He’s grateful to not be needed anywhere public anymore.

His emotional state is quite delicate, too. It’s Christmas Eve and he’s having an intense staring contest with his burnt apple pie. He doesn’t understand what he did wrong. He turns tearful eyes to Alex, who is working on the main meal, and feels his chin tremble before he can get any words out.

Alex has a sixth sense for Henry’s distress and is next to him in a flash, pulling him into an awkward side hug.

“Oh, my baby, it’s okay. It’s okay,” he whispers with kisses to Henry’s temple. Henry turns as much as he can to seek out more comfort.

“Is it too late to cancel Christmas and mail out baby announcement postcards, instead?”

He knows the answer, his mum and Pip had arrived late last night to not delay dinner. Henry was starting to think that inviting their entire family to two days of Christmas celebration was a terrible idea. He felt nauseated with fear of how they would react to his pregnancy, this burnt pie felt like an omen.

“Pie is so overrated anyways. Wanna make flan?”

Henry is jealous and grateful for Alex’s ability of making everything easier. Henry knew his husband was a world class catastrophizer, like himself, yet he’d been more level headed and optimistic about the entire pregnancy. He was constantly finding silver linings to Henry’s worries without dismissing his feelings, holding him close when his emotions got the better of him, and listening to every irrational doubt and fear. Alex truly was Henry’s rock.

He smiles a bit wobbly and nods, so they toss the pie and Henry learns how to make flan from scratch. It turns out perfect and the entire table praises him for it, with rosy cheeks and a proud Alex at his side.

Dinner goes without a hitch and Alex is absolutely brimming with joy that even his parents behave. Sure, it has to do with the conversation being focused on Henry’s book tour, their new home, and their life as newlyweds but when you grow up with years of dysfunctional Christmas dinners, you learn to accept a win however it comes.

Alex foolishly counts his win too early.

They’re just wrapping up dinner when Alex and Henry exchange a glance that indicates it’s time to come clean.

The rapid growing of his belly during the tour led Henry to TikTok hacks for hiding a pregnancy in the third trimester, so he’d worn a flowy, silk button down shirt tucked into dress pants that were a size larger than his usual to fit correctly around the lower part of his belly. The way the fabric laid created the illusion that the bump was caused by the tucking, not his actual belly. He’d layered an oversized cardigan over it to further camouflage the bump from a side angle.

No one suspected a thing. Their friends complimented Henry on the illusion, which he took to mean his disguise was a success. Not even his mother had noticed because the boys had strategically hugged each relative at the same time so no one was ever flush against Henry’s front.

Alex clears his throat.

“So. Henry and I have a bit of an early Christmas gift we wanted to share with y’all,” he begins, going around the table to hand everyone a small gift bag, then making his way back to stand behind Henry with his hands on his shoulders. He could feel how his husband tensed in anticipation.

“This is so sweet. What is it?” Ellen asks, trying to peer into the bag.

“You can open it.”

In each bag is an ornament that read a variation of uncle, aunt, grandpa, or grandma, and a picture of their latest ultrasound.

Catherine makes a confused sound when she pulls the photo out.

“What—“ Pip begins just as Oscar cuts in, “You got a surrogate?”

“Erm. Not quite…” Henry responds quietly enough that if not for the total silence in their dining room the words would easily have been lost.

“It—uh. Well, one thing y’all should know about the Diazes is that they practice magic,” Alex starts.

Oscar is immediately on his feet, hands pounding on the table.

“No me digas que—“

“I’m pregnant.” Henry says firmly, confidently, uplifted by the encouraging smiles of his friends and sisters, and Alex’s warm hands on his shoulders. “That’s our daughter. She’s…” he cuts himself off with an unexpected sob, too much emotion flooding him. He wants to be brave—for himself, for Alex, for their daughter, but he’s so scared of rejection.

The surprised look on Philip’s face, the confusion on Ellen’s, and the hand over Catherine’s mouth successfully take the wind out of his sails. He shrinks in on himself.

Alex moves to stand at his side for Henry to hug his torso and hide his face against his chest. He feels a few extra comforting hands on his back and shoulders.

“Oh, sugar, congratulations,” says Ellen, effectively breaking the silence in the room. He hears more congratulations and cheering, but his mother still hasn’t said anything yet.

He whimpers when Alex starts to pull away, trying to hold onto him more tightly. Henry only relents when he hears a soft voice say, “My darling, please look at me,” on his other side.

Catherine is crouched down at his side when he turns to look, smiling kindly at him. “Hello, love. May I feel her?”

Henry nods mutely, tears spilling freely down his cheeks as his mum delicately rubs his belly over his shirt. Little bun chooses that exact moment to kick enthusiastically, startling a wet laugh out of Catherine.

“Oh, she’s quite social, isn’t she? She must get that from Alex.”

Any lingering tension is immediately zapped out of the room as everyone laughs in agreement. Henry glances up at Alex who grins all proud and smug back at him.

“What she gets from me is her obsession with Alex,” Henry jokes meekly.

“Like father, like daughter,” comes Pip’s voice from across the room in a mocking tone that, if not for the quirk of his lips, would have sounded mean. It’s finally that which makes Henry’s shoulders relax.

“If you need any tips or tricks on how to raise a Claremont-Diaz, you know where to find me, sugar. I did that rodeo twice, it’s as rewarding as it is difficult,” Ellen adds with a wink.

Oscar snorts then and says, “Yeah because you’re the poster-child for perfect parenting.”

A few things happen in quick succession then: Alex’s smile falls, June gasps, Leo takes a step closer to Ellen as her smile turns sharp. It’s all wrong.

“At least I didn’t walk out on my kids, but you wouldn’t know about that.”

“Because being an absent parent is so much better.”

“Dad, what the hell?” June shouts, eyes glistening.

“Sorry, I didn’t—“

“Get out of my house.”

Everyone turns to Alex in shock. His hands are balled up tightly against his sides, Henry can just make out a tremor in the lines of his shoulders.

“Oh, honey, we didn’t—“

“Get out of my house, now. Dinner is over, it was so lovely having you all, but now it’s time to go. Thanks.”

Alex turns on his feet and storms upstairs.

“Hen—“

“No. You heard him. Thank you all for coming but we.. We can’t have this. We won’t have this. You can do that in your own homes but not in ours, and especially not around our daughter, unborn or otherwise.” Henry says as firmly as he can, standing up with the help of his mum and June, now on his other side.

Ellen and Oscar have the decency to look guilty and ashamed as they quietly collect their belongings and walk out. Martha and Philip follow suit, giving Henry a hug and congratulating him once more. They promise to return tomorrow morning with the kids for gift exchange, unless they’re no longer up for it.

“H, go to him. We’ll clean up and leave, okay?” Bea tells him kindly with a kiss to his cheek.

Normally, Henry would put up more of a fight. It’s his home and his guests should never bear the burden of clean up, but the image of Alex all alone beats out his hosting sensibilities. He greets them all goodbye and rushes up to their room, as fast as his aching limbs and round belly will allow.

He finds Alex sitting at the edge of the bed, hunched over with his head in his hands and his elbows resting on his knees. There’s the faintest of tremors, like he’s straining himself by holding back. Henry approaches him like he would an injured animal.

While he wants nothing more than to hold his husband close, he knows Alex prefers being given the choice of physical touch when his emotions are heightened.

“I’m going to sit next to you,” Henry warns in a hushed voice. Alex jerks slightly like he’s shrugging, he takes it as permission. He leaves enough room between them so that Alex can feel his warmth, his presence, without breaking his boundaries.

It takes a few minutes until Alex croaks out, “Touch.”

Henry scoots closer until their thighs are pressed against each other and he can get a hand on Alex’s broad back, stroking it gently. Henry rests his chin on his shoulder to whisper soft assurances.

“I love you, Alex.”

Alex turns enough to pull Henry into his arms, the arm that wraps around his front settles just below his belly. Henry’s own arms wrap tightly around his shoulders.

“Is that who I am destined to become?” he asks pitifully.

“No, of course not. You are good, you are kind, you are so loving. They do not represent you, my love.”

“But what if I am, Hen? What if—what if I become that absent parent because I care too much about my career, or-or—if we—“ his breath hitches, pressing himself closer to Henry. He can’t finish the words.

Something lodges itself in Henry’s throat. He never wants to hear the end of that sentence, states as much by saying, “I rebuke that. All of that.”

“You don’t know.”

“I do know. You’re many things, Alexander Gabriel Claremont-Diaz-Fox. Stubborn, a bit neurotic, energetic, fearless, forgetful, the absolute worst liar... Never a promise breaker.”

Alex looks at him with confusion, eyes red and cheeks glistening. He’s so beautiful, even like his. Henry would give up his life for this man.

“You promised me forever, didn’t you? I’m your happily ever after. You don’t break promises.” He states definitively, holding Alex’s gaze. Something flickers in those brown eyes. Understanding, maybe. Love, for sure. Respect, admiration, gratitude.

“Yeah..” Alex begins, slowly. The corners of his lips twitch like he wants to smile. Henry has to coax it out with a peck to his nose.

The thing is, Alex is a very complex man with a tortured brain. Some of it is self-inflicted, years of trying to prove his worth to people who would never reward it followed by many more years trying to prove his worth to himself. He’s also the easiest man to understand, with time and with great care. It’s a bit like a rubik’s cube. It requires patience, determination, and practice but once it’s done a few times, it’s muscle memory.

Alex is easy because he’s still just a boy who wants to be loved and taken care of. Henry is incredibly well versed at that.

“Yeah,” he repeats a bit more firmly with a small smile. “I did promise and I meant that.”

“I know, my love. That’s why I know when we’re 85 and in a nursing home, little bun will have to beg to room us together lest we start a mutiny for being separated.”

“Woah, we are not going to a nursing home! They do bad things to people there. Little bun is going to hire private care. You hear that, princesa? I will haunt you, otherwise.” He says the last part while looking down at Henry’s stomach, cradling gently with his hand. A kick to his palm makes him laugh.

“Uh, I sure can. I’ll ask abuela about that, you’ll see.”

“Already talking back, is she? We’re in trouble.”

“She gets that from you.”

“Me? I’m a polite and well mannered boy. Don’t slander me, Alexander.”

“You’re a brat.” Alex kisses the underside of Henry’s jaw and nips at a sensitive spot there. He’s playing dirty.

“Your brat. You like it so much you married me.”

“No. I love you, so so much. I’m so sorry for my behavior—for my parent’s behavior. I don’t know why I thought they’d be over their feud by now. It’s been 18 f*cking years, God.”

“You’re allowed to be upset, my darling. They should be sorry, not you.”

Alex makes a whiny sound like he’s gearing up to complain, ready to give a deposition on why Henry is wrong. He doesn’t allow it, drawing him in for a gentle kiss instead. It works wonders to distract him the rest of the night, as they shed all of their clothes and lie in bed naked, exchanging kisses that lead nowhere. Alex’s eyes are sparkling with life again before they shut for the night and Henry feels immense relief that he’s still able to care for his husband’s emotional well being.

Everyone does return for Christmas day at the insistence of the CDF’s. Ellen and Oscar offer apologies and promise to be better. Alex doesn’t quite believe it but gives them the benefit of the doubt, again. Henry stays close by to protect his smile, as is his sworn duty.

—

January is worse than December.

Too many changes happen at one time, giving him very little time to adjust and accept them. Henry gets the feeling that it’ll only get worse from here until they can finally welcome their daughter home. He starts suffering from heartburn, the aches in his lower back intensify, and his chest feels more tender.

His sleeping habits worsen as he starts having crazy dreams and nightmares. The size of his bump doesn’t help with getting into a comfortable position. Then he starts overheating, forcing him to sleep out of Alex’s arms. He feels miserable.

Week 30 turns him absolutely evil, a total cartoon character villain.

Dr. Esperanza warned him this would happen, something about becoming protective of his child the closer they got to his due date and a spike in his hormones again, which could easily present as anger and irritability. What she didn’t mention is that it makes him incredibly sensitive, too. His mood swings are so severe, he shocks himself sometimes.

Alex has to physically remove him from a coffee shop when the young, pretty barista smiles at his husband and bats his eyelashes in a flirty manner. He gets it, he’s seen Alex. 29 is treating him so well, Henry would spend his life on his knees before this man if the added weight of their daughter didn’t give him immediate back pains.

Henry purposely rests his left hand against Alex’s chest and kisses his jaw while he places their order, not so subtly signaling that he’s very married and happy, thank you! The barista does blush in embarrassment and avoids looking at Alex all together after that. Good. Henry continues to cling onto Alex like a koala until they’ve walked out of there, then becomes incredibly pouty.

Alex claims he didn’t notice because he wasn’t looking. Henry scoffs.

“He was pretty, how could you not notice?”

“Because I happen to be deeply in love with my soulmate, who I married even though he’s a bit of an idiot. I haven’t looked at anyone since I was 16. Be so serious, baby.”

Henry blushes and feels properly chastised. It’s not that he’s worried about Alex leaving him or anything sinister like that, it’s…

The thing is.. The bloody thing is, little bun is putting on a pound a week as she grows to her final size before birth. Henry’s bump is no longer cute and round, it’s become quite large and tilts down a bit because of how she’s positioned. This sudden growth has caused stretch marks to grow all over his belly and it’s… It’s beautiful, but he no longer feels attractive.

He stays active by doing yoga with Pez for one hour a day, taking David on at least four walks, and eating smaller meals to avoid heartburn. He’s still the size of a napa cabbage by week 32. Henry feels too big.

At the end of January, Alex notices that his husband has stopped sitting on his lap when they lounge on the couch. They’re spending their evening relaxing after dinner, Henry reading aloud to him. He gets to a second chapter of the story when Alex finally speaks up.

“Baby, is there a reason you’re so far away?”

Henry is sitting right next to him. He raises an eyebrow.

“You’re not on my lap. Do I stink?” Alex continues, sniffing himself in an exaggerated fashion. Henry chuckles and rolls his eyes at his husband’s antics.

“No, I’m just.. More comfortable here. Back pains and all.” It sounds plausible, he thinks.

Too bad his husband spots liars for a living. “Henry.”

“Okay, fine, I’m too heavy to sit on your lap anymore. I’ll crush you.” It sounds more embarrassing to say it out loud. Alex looks at him like he’s lost his last marble.

“Babe.. I hip thrust 432 lbs at the gym. You’re light work, so get over here.”

Henry shakes his head. “It’s not the same.”

“Christ. What’s that thing they say about cats? If I fits, I sits? Applies to you, too, kitten. Get over here,” he pats his thighs a few times and looks at Henry expectantly.

Henry flushes incredibly red, incredibly fast. Alex notices and smirks, looking Henry up and down like a meal he’s been waiting to devour.

“You like that, kitten? Be good for me, I’ll make it worth your while.”

Unfortunately, Henry is putty in Alex’s hands. He delicately moves himself to his lap, back pressed to a warm chest. Alex’s arms wrap around under his bump to alleviate some of the weight, and trails kisses all down his neck and shoulders.

Henry’s dressed in his regular lounge wear consisting of tiny shorts and a large cardigan, completely bare otherwise. It makes it very easy for Alex to slide the cardigan down his shoulder to expose more skin to kiss.

“You’re so f*cking beautiful to me, Henry. I want to eat you up so badly.” He goes on to whisper about how desperately he wishes to be crushed by Henry’s muscular thighs with the force of his org*sm from riding his face with that perfect ass, then sink his hands into his fleshy sides as he f*cks into him gently and slow so Henry can savor it.

He’s shaking and leaking with want, mewling as his hips gyrate over the erect co*ck beneath him.

“Can I make you feel good, kitten? Wanna take care of you, my beautiful princess. Love of my life. My perfect angel.”

He doesn’t know when Alex’s hand slipped into his shorts to stroke him, but all he can do is nod and let Alex take care of him. He’s been in a weird state of wanting sexual pleasure but feeling undesirable in his body. Alex proves how wrong he has been, takes him apart like he promised. He listens when Henry begs him to slow down, to not go so deep. It’s more tender and gentle than Henry usually prefers, but it’s exactly what he needs. The heat thrumming to his veins is enough to melt his bones.

In the end, when Henry is decompressing in a lavender dead sea salt bath—because Alex read that was the safest and most beneficial option for pregnancy baths in the last trimester—and Alex is sitting next to him washing his hair and yapping about his court nemesis, Henry realizes this is what love is truly about. Alex has long stopped being self-conscious about being too much around Henry because he knows he is accepted and loved as he is. He is also confident that Henry will draw any boundaries necessary if anything does ever feel like too much. Alex trusts Henry fully, which allows him to be less careful with how he acts. He is free, bright, and so loving.

Alex has so much confidence in him, too, and so much adoration for him, Henry thinks it’s about time to believe in himself just as strongly. He realizes that he has been holding back in a lot of scenarios because now he feels like he’s too needy, too emotional, too big, too much. Alex has never made him feel that way, it’s entirely self-imposed. How silly.

He peers up at Alex in wonder. He’s not sure how he got so lucky.

“I love you.”

Alex stops talking and brightens, scrunching his nose in a way he does when he’s so happy.

“I love you, too, baby. Cutest man on planet earth.” He plants a big smooch on Henry’s cheek for emphasis.

—

February is surprisingly better—at least mentally and emotionally. Physically, it’s the worst he’s ever felt but it means their daughter is due any day now. Reframing his less desirable symptoms as something good, a necessary evil, has truly improved Henry’s overall health.

After that night in January, Henry had spilled every worry and woe he was feeling. With Alex’s help, they came up with a bedtime routine that vastly improved his sleeping patterns. Alex chastised little bun and begged her to be kinder to her daddy. She did develop a more normal sleeping pattern of her own after that. Dr. Esperanza said she would likely sleep 80-90% of the day but would still move around. Less nightly kicking, at least.

Their new routine consisted of playing music for little bun as Henry soaked in his lavender bath, then a bedtime story read to them by Alex. They bought a fancy fan to lower the temperature in their room so Henry could go back to being Alex’s little spoon. They also learn a hack to use KT tape to help support his bump. It immediately alleviates the pressure on his lungs and improves his heartburn.

These improvements in his overall comfort allow them to finish the nursery by the first week of February. The theme is night sky, pastel purple with soft clouds in various gradients of lavender and white stars cover the walls. It’s wallpaper from an Etsy shop, so when their daughter grows up and wants to repaint her room, they can take it down and give her a perfectly white canvas to work with. Constellations in a mix of purple and pink decorate the ceiling, with glow-in-the-dark stars making up the big stars. They get cute floating cloud lights to set up on the wall next to the crib.

Overall, it has a very dreamy look. Henry is in love with it.

It really boosts his confidence, a new joy sparked in his chest. By the time Valentine’s Day rolls around, he’s 35 weeks pregnant and bursting with energy. He prepares a meal from the Diaz Family recipe book and surprises Alex by donning dark blue lingerie, lacey with delicate flowers embroidered on the bralette and panties, under his soft cardigan.

Alex brings home two bouquets: One is a monstrosity of red roses and baby’s breath that Henry knows cost a fortune. The second is a smaller bouquet with artificial pink and white flowers, a little white rabbit plush in the middle.

Henry blinks at the sight, face twisting into a complicated expression as he fights back tears.

“For the two most precious darlings in my life,” he explains easily.

Dinner is cold by the time they get to it. Henry can’t even mourn the loss of the pretty lingerie set as he sits naked under his cardigan, hair mussed and purple bruises around his neck and thighs. Alex at least tugs pants back on, his own chest covered in constellations of red marks and teeth marks. His back and biceps probably sting from where Henry’s nails sunk in, yet he wears the marks like badges of honor.

It’s a successful day, he thinks.

—

They publicly announce Henry’s pregnancy on social media the following week, for a few reasons.

One: Pez asks him to do a mini book read and autograph session at the shelter. Many of the kids had discovered that the same kind Henry that leads arts & crafts is a big time queer story author and developed an obsession with his work. Henry is warmed by that, as his sole reason for writing was to create a safe space for children like him, somewhere they could belong.

Of course he goes, pregnant belly and all. He’s just hit 36 weeks and the pregnancy waddle he must do to get around is no joke. He expects people to look at him strangely but Alex’s voice reminding him he’s beautiful with kisses all over his belly act as a shield. What he doesn’t expect is for teens and some young adults to approach him with stars in their eyes, like seeing a future for themselves they didn’t know was possible.

One trans teen quietly confesses that they want kids in their future but worry about being male presenting. Henry is a dream realized to him. He certainly doesn’t want to be the poster-child for male pregnancy, feeling like he somehow cheated, but he thinks sometimes the visibility is enough to normalize it.

Two: Nora and June encourage them to do a maternity photoshoot. They think it would be so fun to have professional photos of this beautiful moment in time to show their daughter. Someday, she will wonder how she has two daddies when her peers only have one, showing her evidence that she was born traditionally in an untraditional circ*mstance might help.

So, they do. Something simple, in their own backyard—if it can be called that. It’s a tiny square of space that Alex has decked out beautifully for small cookouts and bonfires, but small enough that David turns his nose at it.

The photos turn out beautiful, Alex selects the one he’ll post to his instagram when Henry gives him permission.

Three: Alex applies for maternity and gets strange looks. Zahra was already made aware of Henry’s unique situation, it’s what allowed Alex to work from home so often. In fact, the couple had hosted Shaan and Zahra in their home just before Christmas to thank them for all the flexibility and discretion. None of his coworkers know, though, and they’re a bit confused by why he’d need maternity leave for a surrogate.

He needs the time because they’re beginning antenatal classes with Dr. Esperanza once a week, and Henry needs a lot more physical support now.

So, Alex posts a simply picture with the caption, “See you in March, Princesa 💝” and the rest truly is history.

They receive an outpouring of love and support from peers, acquaintances, and those who know them personally.

Alex gets a call from abuela and while he does appreciate her blessings, he does make his feelings on the breach of trust and choice very known. She apologizes, genuinely sorry for the distress and confusion she caused.

In the end, she says, “Pero sabes, it’s not a sure thing. The magic only works if the recipient truly desires it, in their heart. Pregúntale a Carmen.”

A call with Carmen reveals that she was just like Henry. Her body would not allow her to bear children for lacking all the correct equipment, so to speak.

“But you saw her, that day. The little one in Alex’s arms? That my Arielle. She’s six now, Henry. She is healthy and beautiful and my biggest dream come true.”

It turns out that the Diaz clan has used this potion for milenia to bless those who can’t produce by nature. Carmen is just one of many trans family members who have been blessed. It has worked on the women in the clan that were failed by other methods but desperately wanted children of their own. They learn that Lucinda’s kids were born the same way after ovarian cancer made her infertile. Her youngest child is 38 years old now.

It's an overwhelming amount of family lore for a Sunday afternoon, yet Henry feels… peaceful. Complete, in a way. Filled to the brim with joy.

He confesses to Alex that, albeit accepting of their situation, there were lingering doubts that this was correct—rather, that he was allowed to have this. He felt he had cheated the universe and he wasn’t supposed to have this many happy endings, yet..

It was his heart that desired it. The universe agreed he deserved it.

Alex agrees he deserves it, too.

“Everything, baby. Every joy, every win, every blessing. You are so deserving of the good this earth has to offer. And our little girl? She deserves it, too.”

Henry can no longer argue with that.

—

He’s 38 weeks when they host their baby shower—at the insistence of Martha. She said Artie and Emi had gifts to welcome their baby cousin, and who were Henry and Alex to deny them of such a desire?

Henry regrets it after the fifth Braxton Hicks contraction gets him mid photo. The baby isn’t ready yet, he knows that much. These contractions don’t hurt either, they just make his stomach feel tense and it freaks him out every time.

He feels little bun wiggle after each Braxton, like she’s playing one big joke. Henry already knows this child will take after Alex, just an energetic troublemaker. He couldn’t be more in love with her if she tried.

At week 39, Henry becomes weepy. Part of it is his hormones acting up, but the real truth is that he’s tired of being pregnant. He feels so full and he swears her head is pressing up against his pelvis because she’s tired of being stuck inside, too.

The energy he gained for a brief period of time in February is fully zapped out of him now, leading to a birthday spent curled up in the baby reading corner of the nursery, with Alex feeding him strawberries and other treats. He gets spoiled absolutely rotten with every single one of his demands being met.

Their daughter’s name comes to them while Alex reads a book on constellations for their bedtime story. After the name is out of his mouth, they both turn to look at each other. A breath. A few blinks. A smile bright enough to light the whole of Europe.

They know instantly, this is it.

“Do you think—“

“Yes.”

Henry will forever argue that it’s the best birthday present he could have received.

—

By the start of week 40, Henry is willing to do anything to induce labor.

Dr. Esperanza warned him their daughter might need another week but Henry disagrees. She just needs a little push, pun a bit intended.

He tries walking for longer periods, eating spicy food, rolling on a birthing ball, dancing with Alex in their kitchen—nothing works. Alex tries to reassure him it’s okay and to be patient with little bun, but he’s not the one the size of a pumpkin. Henry is getting real contractions now, he feels incredibly sorry for everyone who has ever had to suffer through one of these in their lives.

Alex does his best, truly. He gives Henry full body massages, kisses him until he’s either giggling or absolutely breathless, and times his contractions.

By the end of the week, Henry has had enough. He pushes Alex roughly onto their bed, climbs onto his lap as he says, “You f*cked this baby into me, now I need you to f*ck her out.”

And Alex—okay, Alex never claimed to be anything less than utterly obsessed with his husband, just a humble worshiper. He’s a little freak, whatever, but that command really does it for him.

In minutes, he has Henry sprawled on his back at an incline, several pillows cushioning his lower back and shoulders. His ass is just at the edge of the bed so Alex can slip into him easily. He’s careful not to push too far or too hard, despite Henry’s begging and whining. Alex had carefully studied that sex positions pamphlet, he can confidently say he knows what’s best for Henry right now.

Henry’s org*sm is intense. His abdomen tightens deliciously, crying out Alex’s name.

Alex pulls out just in time, ropes of cum painting Henry’s round belly. He curses loudly at the sight and strokes himself through completion. Henry just lies there mewling and repeating his name like a mantra, touching his belly to spread the cum around.

“f*ck, you can’t—You’re going to make me go again,” Alex whines.

Henry just smiles and flutters his eyelashes, cheeks flushed red. He’s too beautiful for words.

“Who said I didn’t want you to?”

He whines when Alex teases his rim with his thumb, massaging just the outside of it.

“I’ll say, you’re so f*cking wet, baby.. God, I’ve never seen you like this.”

The realization seems to dawn on both of them at the same time.

“Oh—“

“Oh my god—“

It’s a mad dash to get Henry cleaned up. Alex calls Dr. Esperanza while Henry’s in the shower, trying his best to stay calm and time his contractions. By the time he’s out, Alex has the jammies with the beagles they’d picked out for his hospital visit set out on the bed.

“Dr. Esperanza said we have to time your contractions for 2 hours to make sure it’s real labor. They can still prepare our room if you’d rather be there.”

Henry mulls over his answer. They had asked for a room for at least a day of pre-labor, to ensure Henry could get the proper care with this being his first—and only, he reminds himself—baby. Now, he thinks he’d rather stay home until the absolute last minute, tells Alex as much.

The last minute turns out to be a short 12 hours later. It’s 4 AM, Henry is doing breathing exercises in the car as contractions wrack his body every five minutes and Alex breaks multiple traffic laws.

Dr. Esperanza is awaiting their arrival with a flock of nurses, who get Henry into a wheelchair and into his room in a flash. Henry has never known a pain this intense, he whimpers and tries his best to keep tears at bay. Alex never leaves his side, holding his hand and reminding him how f*cking strong he is.

A check of his vitals and dilation indicate he’s likely to go into second stage labor within hours. Since they had chosen a water birth, after extensive research and conversations with Dr. Esperanza, they recommend the couple get ready to get in the tub immediately. They are able to check Henry’s progress in the water and it will offer pain relief on his back and legs while his body gets to the next stage.

Alex steps into the pool first, sitting with his back against one of the walls. He leaves plenty of room for Henry to settle in comfortably, which is of course between Alex’s legs and against his chest. Henry feels a sense of calm wash over him when large hands rub his belly gently, incredibly relieved and overjoyed that Alex can be an active participant. He did worry for a while that maybe his husband wouldn’t want to be in the room at all to witness the horrors of childbirth, but Alex had quickly corrected him by saying, “Miracle of childbirth. I told you, you won’t do any of it alone, baby. They’ll have to sedate me if they don’t want me in the room.”

Henry had been more hesitant about Alex’s willingness to be in the same water as all his less sexy bodily fluids, which also earned him a deadpan stare. He lost that fight, of course. He was glad for that now.

He is so relaxed that he falls asleep just like that, head tipped back against Alex’s shoulder. He can’t be sure how much time passes, only that a gentle kiss to his neck and a particularly painful contraction jolts him awake.

“Hi, baby. Whenever you’re ready… It’s show time.”

Henry snorts and smiles at Alex’s ability to be goofy even in such a serious situation. Dr. Esperanza and her team of nurses surround the pool, ready to jump in if intervention is required, but the beauty of a water birth is that Henry can do most of it on his own.

Alex helps an incredible amount, helping Henry get in a more comfortable position and acting as his support. He doesn’t squirm or complain when Henry’s nails dig deep enough to break skin, just continues to encourage him and kiss whatever of his face he can reach. The hands that stroke and gently press into his back are heavenly.

It takes approximately 114 minutes for the Claremont-Diax-Foxes to meet their little miracle.

Henry barely feels the baby slip out, knows it’s happened because Alex laughs wetly and a flash of hands reach into the water to fish their baby out. Henry is barely sitting back down when he finds his arms full of baby. Pink, fleshy, breathing baby. Alex keeps laughing but his hands never move away from Henry, stroking his back in bigger swiping motions.

They look down at their daughter together until the adrenaline drains out of his body and he’s crying, sobbing really, leaning against Alex’s chest. He holds Henry and their baby close, kissing Henry’s hair and telling him how amazing he is. The whole time, their daughter peers up at them curiously, keeping her arms close to her chest and her hands balled into tiny fists. He swears they’re smaller than even David’s paw.

“Hi, princesa. I’m papa Alex. It’s so nice to meet you,” Alex says as he finally reaches out to touch their daughter. He leans down to kiss her little head, which has faint patches of dark hair.

“Hello, little love. I’m daddy Henry,” he manages to choke out.

Dr. Esperanza softly tells them their daughter must get cleaned up and Henry’s body will soon be ready for the third stage of labor. Everything is a bit of a blur after that, Henry only remembers stepping out of the pool with Alex’s help and slipping on a bathrobe.

Next thing he knows, he’s lying on a hospital bed with their daughter on his chest, happily feeding. From him.

He involuntarily whimpers and only then notices that Alex has been by his side, combing gently through his hair and softly chatting with their daughter. His mind feels too far away to really tune in, but he smiles at him anyway.

“She’s so small…” he whispers, drawing a laugh out of Alex.

“She’s a whopping 7.2 pounds. In perfect condition, they said, and very hungry.”

“Felt like 50 pounds when I carried her. I can’t believe she’s feeding so easily…”

“As a well known connoisseur of your boobies, I can say I’m not surprised,” Alex jokes with a sleazy wink. Henry should not be so endeared by it but, well. His body reacts on its own, blushing prettily at the compliment. More seriously, he continues, “She latched on immediately. Dr. Esperanza was very relieved. You are so amazing, Henry. I love you so f*cking much.”

Henry wonders if he can continue to blame hormones for how emotional he feels. Three little words he’s heard repeatedly should not bring him to tears, but they do. He’s so relieved that Alex continues to feel so strongly about him after all they’ve been through in the past 24 hours. He knows he sounds like a muppet, but he may have scared himself a bit by reading reddit posts of birthing people recounting the ways their relationship with their partners changed after birth, especially if said partner was in the room.

He should’ve known that Alex truly meant it when he said he was born to love Henry.

It doesn’t stop him from blubbering, “I love you so much, Alex. I love you. Thank you for being here for me, today and all of it.”

Alex responds by showering Henry’s face with gentle kisses.

“Idiot. I wouldn’t be anywhere else.”

Their daughter pulls off his breast suddenly, and makes a soft sound up at them, then yawns. It has both men laughing and giggling.

“Would you like to hold her?”

“Please,” Alex breathes, almost vibrating out of his skin with excitement and anticipation.

Even with all of his dreams and wistful imaginations, Henry was not prepared for the sight of their little girl bundled up in Alex’s beefy arms. His heart absolutely melts. Alex pokes her tiny belly and grins when she whines.

“Oh my god, I love you so much. I’m going to be in deep trouble between your cute little face and daddy’s blue eyes, aren’t I?”

She makes another huffing sound like she’s agreeing.

“Oh, damn. You caught me. Little bun was a ploy to keep you tied down to me for the rest of our lives,” Henry says very solemnly, eyes sparkling with mischief.

“F—fluff. You played the long con? I respect it, so I guess I’ll stay.”

They’re startled by their daughter suddenly crying, the first time they’ve heard her do that all morning. Alex pats her bum gently and wrinkles his nose.

“Stinky… Let’s fix you up,” and just… Gets to it. No fuss, no asking if Henry would like to do it first. Later, Alex will look at him with exasperation and say, “You will not be changing a single diaper for at least two months, babe. You will breastfeed and look pretty, and I will take care of the rest. You’re on vacation now.”

Henry could propose to this man all over again. He silently thanks the stars for gifting him such a lovely human being.

—

They’re sent home the next day, every nurse absolutely delighted that their daughter is in such good health. The one who pulled her out of the pool, an elderly lady called Elisa, even tells Henry, “Good job, dad. Whatever you did during pregnancy, rinse and repeat for the next one!”

Alex smirks at him and wiggles his eyebrows.

“Shut up, you demon. Take us home.”

Alex gets so caught up making sure both of his babies have everything they need and are properly cared for, he almost forgets his own birthday.

Henry sure doesn’t.

He silently thanks little bun for waking him up for an early feeding so he can get to work. He had anticipated postpartum and a new baby at home to overshadow Alex’s birthday, so he had bought a bunch of party decorations and stashed them in the nursery closet. Henry takes his time decorating their living room with streamers, balloons, and a big gaudy eyesore of a banner that reads “HAPPY BIRTHDAY!”

He even bakes another cake, not using any food coloring this time, thank you. Even though he knows Alex will be grumpy about it, he turns the baby monitor off and takes care of any diaper changes needed until he’s done prepping his surprise.

By 10 AM, Henry is climbing back into bed and waking Alex with kisses all over his face. His husband grumbles, wraps his arms around Henry’s waist, then rolls so he’s trapped beneath Alex.

“Birthday boy, it’s time to get up.”

“Nooo, five more minutes. You’re so warm.”

“But I made you breakfast.”

Alex groans against Henry’s shoulder but sits up. “I’m up on the condition that you feed me,” he grumbles.

Henry is more than happy to, moving the tray he had arranged with french toast, coffee, and a bowl of fresh fruit to the bed. He feeds Alex and occasionally pecks his lips, enjoying the way his eyelashes flutter and his cheeks flush bashfully.

“Happy birthday, my love.”

Alex is even more surprised when they finally make it out of their room, admiring all of Henry’s efforts. He gets teary eyed when he sees the cake with messy script that reads, “Happy birtday, best husband and best papa.” Alex doesn’t even point out the spelling error, heart just too full.

The remainder of the day is spent taking little bun and David out on a walk, tummy time, and napping on the couch. It’s the most quiet birthday he’s ever had, but Alex would not change a single thing.

—

They get about two more weeks to settle in before a picture of their daughter napping on Henry’s chest with David curled up at his side sent into the big family group chat has everyone banging their door down.

June is appropriately cowed, cursing Alex via text for not telling them immediately. Ellen and Catherine are equally as shocked but, being mother’s, they get it. Alex is able to hold them off until Henry wakes up and agrees to have company.

His sleeping schedule has been terrible once more. No one told him newborns breastfeed every two to four hours, so he naps in the same intervals that she does. Alex takes care of everything else—cooking, dog walks, cleaning, laundry. If she cries due to a dirty diaper, he’s there as well. When Henry needs to take a shower, Alex and David are on babysitting duty and encourage tummy time.

So, really, it could be worse than it is. He easily agrees to visits as long as no one expects him to be dressed or even awake.

Everyone who can shows up the next day, bearing the gift of meal-prep and gift cards to every food delivery known to man. Henry is, in fact, asleep when they first arrive. He’s napping on the couch wearing matching star jammies with their daughter.

“Everyone, meet our little miracle, Carina Elanor Claremont-Diaz-Fox” Alex says softly and makes jazz hands towards the sleeping figures. His guests appropriately coo and squeal, so he quickly heards them to the kitchen so his loves can rest a bit longer.

“Drinks, anyone? I can whip up a quick caldo or—“

Pez places both hands on Alex’s shoulders and physically sits him down on a chair as Ellen and Catherine rummage through the fridge, and Bea gets the kettle going.

“Don’t be ridiculous, you’re not on hosting duty. Mom’s got it. You will sit here and tell us everything about my niece, starting with the name,” June tells him seriously. Alex starts to argue but Nora sends him a very dirty look, so he clears his throat and starts talking.

He tells them about Carina, the name of a constellation representing the keel of the ship from the Greek mythology of Argo. It sounds so much like cariño, his favorite of his pet names for Henry, and translates to beloved in some languages. They knew it was perfect for their daughter the second they heard it outloud. Elanor was chosen for its meaning of sun-star, a golden flower from LotR. It was a bit of an ode to Henry’s love for literature.

He’s just finishing his report of the birth when a mussed Henry walks into the kitchen with Carina in his arms and David not a step behind.

He stops when he takes in everyone’s faces and breathes out a surprised, “Oh. Hello. Erm, say hello to some new friends, little love.” He has to turn his back so her little face can peek over his shoulder. She’s still too small to support her head on her own.

“Oh my fu—oh my god, Henry, she is too cute.” June squeals, holding onto Nora so she doesn’t jump to her feet and snatch her niece. She has some decorum, thank you.

Henry does allow everyone to fawn over her, watching in fascination as her little face scrunches up and reacts to each new face. Alex walks up behind him to pull him into a tight hug, his hands naturally resting on his tummy.

“She is so loved, cariño. We are so lucky.”

“Free babysitters,” Henry jokes.

“God, yeah. When this little monster can hold her head up on her own, I am so taking you out on a fancy date.”

“Promise?”

“Absolutely.”

They’re interrupted by Ellen and Catherine approaching their boys and pulling them into tight hugs, fussing over them and asking how they are. They adore their granddaughter and will dote on her later, but at this moment they care more for their own babies.

Bea comments on how full her cheeks are and Henry snorts, “She’s a proper glutton. Twelve feedings a day, she’ll run me dry!”

Thankfully their friends and family know to cut the visit short, cued to their leave by Carina falling asleep after another feeding. Catherine kisses Henry’s forehead before she leaves.

“I’m so proud of you, darling. Arthur, too. He was always proud of you.”

Bea promises to reduce the amount of traveling she does to be a present aunt. June and Nora tell them to call literally any day, any time, for absolutely anything.

“Even if it’s to come wash your dishes and fold your laundry because you want to nap with your babies,” Nora tells Alex. He hugs her tightly because he knows she means that, and he just might.

Pez tells them he’s happy to care for her when they wish for some intimate time alone or less naughty date nights. He’s excited for the kids at the shelter to meet this bundle of joy later in her life. Henry looks forward to it, too. She’ll become the youngest philanthropist to date.

With Carina tucked into her crib and her loyal protector, David, curled up between her and the door, Alex and Henry retire to bed. Alex sprawls flat on his back with Henry’s head on his chest and an arm thrown over his torso, on his stomach. As rewarding as pregnancy and childbirth were, Henry can admit he missed this the most. He can hear Alex’s heart beating happily in his chest and hears his lungs expand with every breath.

There’s a baby monitor on their side table now, in case their little bun wakes in the middle of the night. Sometimes, David is who alerts them of her needs.

He thinks of 15-year-old Henry overcome with grief at the loss of his father, held tightly by a 14-year-old Alex who shoved all his love deep in a box to be the perfect best friend. If either of those boys knew what their life would look like in 15 years, they would certainly think it was a fairytale.

Henry kisses Alex’s chest.

“I love you so much, my darling.”

“I love you most, baby. You can’t use Carina’s love anymore,” he sing-songs.

Henry rolls his eyes and pecks his nose.

“Do you think we’ll be okay?” he asks quietly.

“Of course, baby. You’ll always have me and I’ll always have you. Dream team.”

“You and me and Carina, hm?”

“And Davey, don’t forget our first son.”

“Of course, how dare I. You, me, Davey, and Carina. The Claremont-Diaz-Foxes.”

“Happily ever after.”

Yeah, Henry thinks, there’s no happier ending than this.

—

It’s early December when Alex posts a picture of Henry carrying Carina, both of them kissing each of her cheeks. She’s caught mid-giggle.

theagcdf puss* so good we had to procreate 💗🍼

henrycd.fox 2h
Die.
—theagcdf 2h
NOOO BABY ITS A JOKEEE I LOVE YOU

cjcd_ 56m
What happened to decorum?
—theagcdf 50m
if you had puss* this good then youd understand 🙂‍↕️
—nora_holleran 48m
@cjcd_ You never talk about me like this babe, wtf

nora_holleran 48m
Die
—theagcdf 47m
YOU JUST AGREED THO WTF

bea.fox 40m
You kiss your baby with that mouth?

auntiepezza 35m
Real puss* enjoyers have multiple children 👀
—henrycd.fox 32m
Please do not encourage him.
—theagcdf 31m
give us like a year
—bea.fox 20m
@theagcd Good luck, Hen
—cjcd_ 20m
@theagcd Good luck, H
—nora_holleran 20m
@theagcd Good luck H!!!
—henrycd.fox 10m
@theagcd STOP ✋
—m.fitzroy 6m
@theagcd The people love a good sequel. Cheers! 🙏

theagcdf 1m
hello everyone, for legal reasons i have to state henry does not have a puss* and we are not working on baby #2 (yet)
—henrycd.fox 40s
You are an utter pain in my arse.
—henrycd.fox 39s
I love you.
—theagcd 30s
💓💞💕💖💘💗🩷 I LOVE YOU