//TW: suggestive content\\

Alexander

"We are two men. Two men on a mission. A life or death mission that means everything. If we screw this up, we might not walk out of here the way we came in. So we gotta get in, get out, as quickly as possible. Understand?"

Thomas nodded, his eyes coated over with steely determination.

"We cannot let anything distract us. This means everything, got it?"

Once more, Thomas nodded, but the small smile that tugged at the corner of his lips was impossible to miss. I found myself transfixed, just as I always did, and it took every last one of my nerves of steel to pull myself away from the brightest thing that has ever burned. I forced myself instead to navigate the busy streets alive with the heat of the summer and the fleeting ideals and desires that came and went in the three month span where virtually anything was possible. It's one of the most beautiful things about New York.

"We go in. Get what we need. Get out. Are you ready?"

Thomas nodded for the final time, and the smile won over, and I couldn't help but indulge in a tiny satisfied grin of my own. It was impossible to withstand that gorgeous sight. Like the sun peeking through storm clouds, embracing the world with its golden warmth, so too did my Thomas's smile completely melt me.

We turned the corner, and there it stood in front of us, just as imposing as ever. Thomas stiffened next to me, and I could already see his eyes wandering as he took it all in.

"We can do this," I reassured him. "I promise."

"We just need to be strong," he agreed. "I'm ready, I think. As ready as I'll ever be."

I took a deep breath and slipped my hand into his. "Alright then. Let's go." We walked into the building, and I took a deep, uneasy breath as the sudden stream of the air conditioning drowned out the courage and the strength born in the heat. I squeezed Thomas's hand in gentle affirmation, encouraging him onwards as I stepped further into the building, just enough to acclimate to the rather cool temperatures. It was one siren's call after the next, but if we were strong enough, we could outlast them all.

Thomas let go of my hand as I moved ahead, walking as quickly as possible without breaking into a full sprint. I arrived at the aisle where we would find the object of our mission and quickly scanned the shelves, searching for the bag.

"Thomas?" I asked as I found what we were looking for. "Should we get Iams or Blue Buffalo? And should we get the grain-free one? Thomas?" I glanced behind me to see that the taller boy had gone missing. "Thomas?!"

"Alexander!" Thomas called out in response, a note of desperation tinging his tone. My heart skipped a beat as the echo of it mumbled through my ears again and again, and with a sigh of resignation, I withdrew from the aisle lined with the plastic bags containing the thing I had tried so hard to fight for, and stepped into the fluorescent light.

Aaaaand we failed.

"Thomas?"

"Alexander! Look!"

I mumbled a quick curse under my breath and left the cat food aisle to see Thomas standing in front of the cat cages.

Great. This was exactly what I was dreading.

"It's a lad!" he exclaimed, quite proud of himself as I stepped up next to him. He grabbed me by the arm, and his excitement lit up the world like a sky full of stars. He shone, my beacon, and carved a home out of the empty blackhole I had grown so accustomed to. And part of me wondered how I had ever lived without him, and part of me realized I'd never ever be able to express just how in love with him I was, for it was a feeling that transcended words, that raveled itself up in the threads of my very being until I was defined by it.

And there was nothing else I'd rather be than his.

"It is a lad," I agreed, coming back to myself.

"Can we please get another cat, Alexander?" he begged as he watched the orange tabby make biscuits on its soft bed.

"No, Thomas," I said, though I was melting inside as I watched him stare at the cat with absolute adoration.

"Aww, please?"

"We already have a cat at home, love," I said softly, pitching my voice low just so that nobody else would ever get to have this moment. It was ours, and it would always be. They had no right to intrude, no right to dismantle what wasn't theirs.

"Please! I already have the perfect name picked out! I want to name him Alexander Hameowlton! Pleasepleasepleasepleasepleasepleaseplease?"

"Wow. That was bad."

"Really? I thought you would've liked it."

"What makes you think that?"

"You don't want a cat named after you?"

"No, Thomas," I repeated, though I couldn't hide the grin that had come to my face.

It wouldn't be the first time that that's happened to me.

"Oh! Oh! So now you know how to say no, huh?"

I was about to respond when something else caught his eye and he rushed off. And all I could do was stand there and watch as he approached the ferret cage, falling for the traps of a place that offers nothing but false hope and crushed dreams. But the expression in his eyes, that glimmer of absolute joy...I'd hate myself forever if I stripped it away from him. It's been so long since he was allowed to be happy just for the sake of being happy, and it would be wrong of me, dreadful of me, to take that away when he could finally taste the freedom of the summer air.

There was nothing else I wanted more than Thomas's happiness.

And there is nothing I wouldn't do to assure it.

So, I suppose we could spend a few extra minutes in here, for I had nowhere else I'd rather be, and nothing else I'd rather do.

"There are little baby ferrets!" he exclaimed, absolutely pleased as he stared through the glass, fawning over the tiny creatures. "Oh I need one!"

"Want to hold one?" asked the lady who was filling up the ferret's food bowl.

No.

No it would kill me.

"Absolutely I do!" Thomas said. "Are you sure? I don't want to scare them though, or anything."

The lady shrugged, laughing along. "It's totally okay! They sleep all day, anyway, some excitement would be good for them. So, would you like to?"

Thomas nodded vigorously with the most innocent beam on his face.

She scooped a little white and light brown ferret out of the cage and placed it gently into Thomas's arms, who absolutely lit up as if the world around him had finally bloomed. He returned to me, cradling the ferret softly, and grinned. "I dub thee...Malfoy!"

"We're not getting a ferret, Thomas."

"What! Please? It would make me so happy!"

And as much as Thomas truly deserves every happiness in the world, another animal was simply out of the question. "I think our landlord's getting pissed off with how many pets we have now. Maybe in the future, we'll think about it, but for now, we should wait a bit, okay?"

Thomas's shoulders relaxed slightly, and the excitement in his gaze was replaced by something...softer. Genuine love, and all that it encompasses. It tore my breath away, that simple gaze, and I briefly questioned why I had ever wanted anything more.

This is the future I want. This is the boy I want to spend the rest of my life with, no question about it. The vision of it comes to me in fractals of light wandering in through stained glass, so clear and so vivid and so colorful that it consumes me, that it makes me weightless just by thinking about spending the next day with him, then the next, and the next. He is my eternity, my forever.

"You're looking at me weird again," Thomas teased, setting the ferret in my hands.

"Oh my god, it smells horrible!" I exclaimed, though I didn't let go of it.

"Hey!" Thomas exclaimed. "Don't musk-shame the ferret!"

"Is that what they all smell like? God, it's horrible."

"No! You're making him self-conscious!"

"He should be self-conscious if he smells like that," I returned, and the laugh that tumbled past his lips was worth every nightmare and every doubtful moment and every last second where the truth became undefined and blurred. If I could live in this one second for the rest of time itself, I'd be the happiest person alive. Just this one second, where the music of that earthshaking laugh invaded every last corner, tearing down the shadows and instilling nothing but the shreds of a not-so-distant future.

"Are you sure we can't get a ferret?" Thomas asked. Then, he paused, stepping backwards from me. A brief flash of self-consciousness and worry passed through his eyes, and even though it lasted less than a second, it was stark enough to seem significantly out of place. It was all too familiar, that sudden conflict, but it was gone before I could address it.

"Not today, love." I rubbed his arm gently, my best attempt to be reassuring. "But maybe one day..."

"Okay, okay," Thomas conceded, handing the animal back to the lady cleaning out the ferret enclosure. I watched her with nothing but pity, then sighed and turned back to Thomas. A small smile, almost embarrassed, parsed past his lips as he held his arms. "Can I please go look at the parakeets?" he asked, significantly more reserved than before, and I didn't have to ask to know what he was fretting about now. It crushed me, seeing how quickly it took for him to go quiet and still. I hated how easy it was for him to shut off his joy, his excitement.

"You don't have to ask, Thomas," I reassured, nudging him playfully with my hip. "Just don't fall in love or anything. Because then I'll be forced to get it for you. You know how horrible I am at refusing you," I teased. With nobody watching, I pulled him closer and brought the back of his hand to my mouth. I pressed my lips gently against his warm skin, delighting in the way his entire body relaxed against my touch.

"Thank you, Alexander! And I make no promises," he returned softly, before rushing off to find the birds. I watched him as he went, returned to the isle of cat food bags, and picked out the most similar one to the bag we had at home. When I returned, the lady had finished up with the ferrets and smiled at me, inclining her head to Thomas.

"Friend of yours?" she asked.

"Boyfriend."

"Oh! Sorry, excuse me and my heteronormativity."

"You're fine," I said, grinning as I watched Thomas rush around the pet store.

His eyes got brighter than stars when he saw the mice and other small rodents. A look of avid fascination and awe swept over his expression when he watched the snakes and spiders and other things I would be much happier without. He had even fallen in love with all the colorful and vibrant fish.

I love him when he's like this. Well, I love him all the time, but times like these when he's smiling unabashedly and he had cast off the weights tied to his arms so he could finally, finally fly again...it made me love him even more, if such a thing was possible. But I cherished each and every smile, and I adored the gleam of unaltered light as he practically danced to his own music. For once, that light was not tempered by fear, by the dreadful considerations of what awaits after this moment. No, now he is free. Free to exist however he wants, free to laugh and smile and never have to worry about anything ever again.

I think taking him to therapy might be one of the best decisions I've made, right up there with finding him in the first place.

At one point, I caught up with him at the turtles, where he had taken a picture of one and sent it to a contact dubbed 'Johnny Boi' along with the caption: 'Oh, John, paint me like one of your French models'.

"Hey, Thomas?"

"Hmm?" he asked, looking up. "Are we getting a bunny?"

"What? No! Look, you have fun with... whatever it is you're doing, and I'll get the cat food."

"Can we get toys and stuff for my little Berly-Girly too?!"

"Thomas—"

"Pleeeeeeeease? If I have to seduce you, I will!"

"You're slowly becoming my least favorite human being."

But of course, it was worth it. It would always be worth it. And there was no part of me that would ever want to trade his happiness for anything else in the world.

"That actually took a lot longer than I thought it would."

I rolled my eyes while smiling and kissed his lips gently. "Tell you what, I'll let you pick out the toys and stuff if you promise that we will actually leave here without another animal to take care of. Deal?"

Thomas sighed. "Fiiiiiiiine. Does that mean that I can't even take one home?"

"That's exactly what that means."

"Even Alexander Hameowlton?"

"Especially Alexander Hameowlton."

"But there's a million things he hasn't done—"

"Congratulations. You have officially become my least favorite human being. And am I ever going to live that down?"

"No, probably not," Thomas agreed. His smile grew more gentle, like it belonged to the warmth and the music of an evening sitting out on the balcony, watching the stars and letting the wind rustle through your hair. He took my hand, squeezed it, and gazed at me, as if trying to figure something out.

"Everything alright?" I asked, squeezing his hand back.

"I just...I just feel so safe and comfortable and happy around you, Alexander."

I paused, feeling my words leave me at once. How am I supposed to respond to that? I think that broke me. Congratulations Thomas, you broke me.

"Here," he said with a small, easy laugh as he took the bag from me. "We should probably get going before I set all the animals free in an act of passionate rebellion."

"You would do that, too."

He shrugged. "Guilty."

~•~

"Am I boring you?" Thomas asked, all of a sudden, interrupting his own longwinded but passionate discussion about the homoerotic subtleties found interspersed in the Great Gatsby. He sat up, the warmth of his body escaping me all too fleetingly, and slid his hands into his lap. "Sorry," he said after a moment, answering his own question. A small laugh rung out, but the hollowness of the noise indicated that it was just another disguise for the worry and the doubt shadowing his tone. "I'm sorry. It's stupid, I'll be quiet."

"What!" I exclaimed. "No! It isn't stupid at all! It's really interesting! I promise! I'm listening, keep talking."

Thomas watched me quizzically, as though I was the answer to a puzzle he hadn't quite yet figured out. I softened underneath his gaze, and reached out for his hand.

"Are you sure?" he asked after a moment. "I know you've been so busy recently, and tired. You really don't have to listen to me if you don't want to! Really, it's okay!" he said, and it seemed as though it was meant to be assuring, but the light in his eyes had dwindled, and it hit me like a blow to the stomach. "If you want, I can be quiet and take care of some of the chores while you rest."

"Yes, I'm sure. I love listening to you talk, baby. I love listening to you go on and on about the smallest things. One, I find it all incredibly interesting, and a chance to get to know every last detail about you even better than I already do. Two, I love the sound of your voice and I'd listen to it for, like, hours, if you'd let me. And three, it makes you happy." I paused, reaching forwards to press my hand against his cheek. "And I love seeing you happy."

A small smile tugged at his lips, winning out as he ducked his head in sheepish embarrassment. I slid my fingers under his chin and lifted his head, just so I could peer into those stark, candid eyes. Such beautiful eyes. Like twin galaxies, full of life and potential.

"What makes you think I'd ever want you to be quiet?" I asked, sliding closer so our foreheads touched. "If you don't mind me asking."

Thomas shrugged, shifted his body as if trying to protect himself. The action was simple, common, but accompanied by the sudden flash of worry that seeped into his gaze, and it just looked sad. "I don't know. It's nothing, really."

"It's not nothing! Please, tell me?"

He shrugged again. "I don't know. I guess sometimes I just worry that you find me annoying? It's just..." He paused, taking a deep breath and letting it out within timed intervals. "James...um, James always said that I was better off being quiet. I know you don't think that! And even if you did, that'd be okay, I mean, I am pretty annoying at times and the last thing I want to do is annoy or bother you or make you feel like you have to listen to me or anything and—"

"Thomas," I said, interrupting him just so I didn't have to listen to him go on and on about all the things that he thought made him unworthy of love. "I love you. I love everything about you. I would never find you annoying." I squeezed his hands to confirm the thought. "I love you, okay? You make my life so much better just by being in it. And hearing you talk like that makes me so, so happy." I grinned. "And honestly, you've swayed me. There's no way Nick's not at least bi."

Thomas offered up a small, but a bright smile, and ducked his head once more.

"I love listening to you speak. I wouldn't give it up for the world. And James was and always will be wrong for making you think that your voice does not matter. Because it does." I kissed him. "It's one of the most beautiful sounds this world has to offer."

"Thank you, 'Lex," he said softly.

"Has anyone told you that you're, like, extremely cute?" I asked.

He turned away, as if to hide the smile that slowly won control over his face. I've said it before and I'll say it again, I truly wish he'd stop trying to hide his smile.

"Yes. You have. Three times today."

"Oh. Just making sure."

Thomas ran his hand against my arm, watching me carefully. He shifted again, settling back down so he was practically in my lap, his upper body leaning against the couch's armrest. "Are you sure you're comfortable? I can always move if you aren't—"

"Thomas, you have absolutely nothing to worry about. I don't ever want you to doubt yourself again." I slid closer to him, tilting his chin upwards so his eyes met mine. "You're safe, baby. You can relax. I promise."

His entire countenance seemed to lose the tension that had plagued him, and he leaned forward, closing the distance. His mouth met mine, his hand reaching for my face and directing it so he had a better angle. I kissed him slowly and thoroughly, pressing him against the cushion, our bodies tangling up in a knot as I tried to get closer, closer, closer—

He broke away.

"Everything okay?"

"Something's been bothering you," he whispered. "I can tell. Do you want to talk about it?"

I shook my head. "No, I'm okay."

"Alexander—"

"Really, it's nothing to worry about."

"But I do worry," he insisted, gripping my hands tightly. "Look, I didn't press it when John and the others were here—God, especially not with James there—but I do wanna talk about it."

"It's just...it's stupid. Really. With all the things you already have to worry about I just don't wanna add to that."

"Hey," Thomas whispered. "Remember what I said? It's okay, you know, if you need comfort. There's nothing wrong with needing somebody to rely on for a little while. It's part of why I'm here." He leaned forward, kissing me again. "I want you to talk to me. There's nothing—"

"I have nightmares where I see you dead."

Silence hit hard, painful enough for me to wince and duck away, hugging my arms. "Sorry. That didn't come out the way I meant it. But, uh, usually when you're not besides me...I have this nightmare, and it's always the same, and you killed yourself and I can't take it because I always wake up and I always think you're g-gone and I don't wanna have to live in a world you aren't a part of and—and—"

"Hey, hey," Thomas said softly, throwing his arms around my shoulders. He pulled me close, luring me into his sweet, irresistible trap. And I allowed myself to be taken up by the sugar and the honey, surrendered myself to the warmth of his arms. "I'm not going anywhere." He tightened his grip, set his head on my shoulder. "I promise. And you should have told me. If I had known, Alexander—" He took a deep breath, slid away. "I love you. It kills me seeing you hurt. I promise, that from here on out, I won't leave your side until you wake up."

"You don't have to do that."

"Too late. It's done. Etched in stone." Thomas smiled warmly. "I don't want you to be hurting, 'Lex."

"I love you."

"I love you more."

"Impossible. Empirically wrong."

Thomas laughed, slipping just a fraction closer, and with a startled breath, I realized exactly how we were positioned, with me slightly above him, and him against the armrest of the couch. Warmth flooded my cheeks as he gazed up at me, almost expectant, in a way.

"I am sorry, though, Thomas. I wish you didn't have to worry about me," I said, finding myself rambling before I could stop it. "Really. I like being there for you, and I hate having to be vulnerable. I know that—"

"You're allowed to be vulnerable. You're allowed to feel bad."

"But I don't want you to feel like I'm making everything about me and—"

"Alexander. That's enough." Then, he grinned slightly, grabbed my shirt collar, and pulled me down to where our lips met. "Plus, I can think of a way you can make it up to me," he said as we took a second to catch our breaths.

"Oh?"

My eyes dropped, tracing the shape of his lips. I braced myself against the armrest with one hand, using the other to tilt his chin upwards so those gorgeous lips were on perfect display. Heat poured through my body as I watched his eyes widen, desire lacing through them in ribbons of gold and red.

"May I?" I whispered.

"Please."

I pressed my mouth against his, slow and hesitantly at first. But as his lips slightly parted, allowing my tongue access into his mouth, I lost control over the tightly wound knots within my stomach. They came undone quite fervently, resulting in me pushing him further against the couch until there was no room left between us. I slid my knee between his thighs, running my fingers against the single layer of denim keeping me from his delicate flesh, and I delighted in the soft, subtle gasp that wormed its way from his throat and into the kiss. Thomas held me against him, and even with as desperate as the kiss became, I still forced myself to stay gentle, to stay forgiving. I gave, just as much as I took, because I refused to entertain the idea of taking advantage of him.

Yet another soft gasp pried itself from his mouth as I allowed my lips to trail down to his neck, kissing and sucking and biting until those sweet, little moans filled the air. And as much as he was trying to contain it, as much as he was trying to remain quiet, he simply couldn't.

"God," I whispered against his skin, completely taken in by how warm and delicious it was. "God, I forgot how pretty you are when you're like this."

Thomas's fingers curled into my shirt, gripping tighter. "Alexander," he whispered as I continued to suck at his skin until my reward was granted on the wing of those sucked in breaths and desperate attempts to regain his control.

"Yes, baby?"

Thomas wrapped his legs around me. "That's...oh, that's nice."

I grinned to myself. "Good boy." And when I risked a glance upwards, I couldn't help but grin even wider at the way his eyes went wide, at the way embarrassment exploded across his face. "Yeah?" I whispered.

"Shut up," he mumbled in response.

"Hey, I'm not judging!" I angled his face towards me. "Honestly, love? I could spend hours here. Kissing you, treating you the way you deserved to be treated." I slid closer, so my mouth pressed against his ear, and let my fingers run the length down his body and to his thigh. Slowly, carefully, I rubbed it, until his body tensed and he slid a bit away.

"I could to," he admitted. "But I...um...but I don't think I'm quite ready to go any... uh, farther. I'm sorry! I know—"

"Hey! No!" I kissed him again, soft and reassuring. "There's absolutely nothing wrong with that. Like I said, love. At your pace. Is there anything I can do?"

He paused, as if considering. Then, a small smile spread across his face.

"Go make popcorn, we're gonna watch Aristocats."

I snorted in amusement and let him sit up.

"Lafayette's made some pretty bold claims concerning the name of one of the dogs, and I just wanna see if he's actually right or pulling my leg. Also, Abraham De Lacey Giuseppe Casey Thomas O'Malley, O'Malley the alley cat! Also also, Berlioz needs to see her namesake!"

I pressed my lips against his for a quick second. "Alright. Give me a moment. I'll go make popcorn."