Bet We Could Make Some MORE (History Huh?)

7: Buttons and Bottles (Henry)

Alex did not come home at all last night. Henry got a text from Nora that the two of them were working late. This morning, a text from Alex saying he slept at Nora's and promising to come home from work early.

Henry worries this had something to do with the therapy session Alex was supposed to have yesterday. Did he go? Was it bad? Or did it just take up a lot of time he needed to make up for once he got back to the office?

Henry knew that Alex thought he could hide the extent of things, so Henry would worry less about him. Henry always saw through it. He saw how much it really hurt when Alex's parents would fight in front of him or when the fears of failure were creeping back in. Alex was so good at hiding it from everyone else, but Henry had learned to read him like no one else could (except maybe June). And today, something was wrong.

Through all the late nights, and even all nighters, Alex always came home. But today he was going straight to work from Nora's. It's not that Henry didn't have complete faith in Alex's loyalty, but he knew it was something more than work and campaign stress.

He couldn't figure out what to do with himself after returning home from the shelter and ended up mostly watching television. Alex came home at 9pm, not exactly Henry's idea of 'early.'

"Alex?" he calls as he hears the door open, getting off the couch.

"Hey, baby. I'm home." Alex looks awful, still in the same clothes as yesterday. How had he gone to work looking like this? Other people were going to start to take notice.

"I can see. You couldn't have even stopped by for a change of clothes? I would've brought you some if you asked."

"Nah, I was fine. I showered at Nora's. Come here, sweetheart, I missed you."

Henry can't help himself, he rushes into Alex's arms. Alex holds him tight and Henry kisses his forehead. He feels Alex's breath as he inhales against Henry's neck. Then he lays a soft kiss there against his jugular. Alex's hands start to wander Henry's back, lowering under they reach his ass.

"Let's eat later," Alex says in a low, sultry voice.

Henry's pierces an octave, "I already ate, darling."

"Even better," Alex whispers as he starts to lay more kisses on Henry's neck. Moving lower until he has to pull Henry's shirt aside to reach his upper chest. Alex's hands move to slip under the back of Henry's shirt and let his hands spread over the warm skin of Henry's back.

"Alex..." There was some point Henry wanted to make, about Alex being out last night, about his disheveled appearance, about how skipping dinner was not a good idea or asking about the therapy session, but all those thoughts fall away as Alex pulls Henry's shirt over his head. At least one thing he'd said to Alex had made a difference. There hasn't been a spontaneous night like this in ages, when Alex just comes home with this need, and nothing else can happen until they fulfill it.

As Alex's hands start to wander his chest, Henry pulls off Alex's already loosened tie and then starts with the shirt buttons. Henry can barely pull Alex's shirt off before Alex bends to the ground, pulling at the waistband of his sweatpants. Henry lets the last of his worries melt away.

-----

They end up in the bed, and when Henry rolls over to look at Alex, he finds him passed out, fast asleep. He had things he wanted to discuss with Alex tonight, but it's more important to let him sleep.

The next morning Henry wakes up alone.

That week, Alex barely comes home again: staying in the office until after Henry goes to bed and flying out the door in the morning. Henry feels at a loss for what to do. He gets insanely more busy as well as they get into the final weeks of wedding planning, that Henry is also coming home in the early hours of the morning. Sometimes even coming home to find Alex in bed, whiskey bottle from his night cap left out on the counter.