The crisp autumn air nipped at Alex's cheeks as he strolled down Brooklyn's brownstone-lined streets, David bounding happily at the end of his leash as their afternoon walk turned into more of an evening one. He would never get tired of the city, despite the fact it could never be Austin.
He also would never get tired of living with his boyfriend in the same time zone either, which was a relief. After two years of back and forth, life with Henry and David on the same continent was anything but dull.
Like, for example, today David had expertly sniffed out a discarded half-eaten bagel and had attempted to convince Alex that it was his birthright.
"No, Davy, you already got your morning treat," Alex said, gently tugging on the leash. "Besides, bagels are terrible for your princely waistline."
David had whined dramatically at that, casting Alex a look of profound betrayal. Alex on the other hand just chuckled, shaking his head before the moment was seemingly forgotten and David moved onto hunting a cricket.
Henry would have been proud.
Speaking of Henry, Alex's shoulders sagged at the mere thought of him. He had been on a book tour the last week or so and the Latino was starting to get restless without him, which was a feat considering he was practically glued to him. If he hadn't had his own business to attend to (aka running a fucking law firm), he would have most likely packed himself into his suitcase.
Henry had promised he'd be home this afternoon when Alex got back from work. Alex wanted nothing more for that to be true so he could sink into his arms as the streets of New York awoke for the night. Perhaps more. Maybe.
God, he just missed him. That would change in the next ten seconds however, as the sound of concrete transforms to brick and he finds himself at their door. He's home.
Unlocking the door to their house (or he should say Henry's house that he's infected every surface in), the familiar scent of Henry's Earl Grey tea and a hint of lemon polish welcomes him and he can't believe his luck.
He's definitely back alright.
"Honey, I'm home!" he called out, unhooking David's leash.
Silence. Unusual. Then again, despite the book tour, Henry was usually glued to his laptop, editing his latest book in progress or, more likely, arguing with some online troll about the Oxford comma.
"Henry?" Alex called again, a sliver of concern threading through his voice.
Then he hears it. A laugh, quickly quietened. He followed the sound of faint, muffled giggling to the living room. And that's where he found him. Or rather, saw him and then had to do a double-take.
Henry was sprawled on the couch, surrounded by a mountain of pillows, his laptop precariously balanced on his stomach. His face was flushed crimson, and he was clearly trying, and failing, to stifle his laughter.
However, it wasn't the pillows, the laptop, or the giggling that captured Alex's attention.
It was the shirt.
A bright, unapologetic crimson, it screamed its message across the room in bold, white letters:
DILF (Daddy I'd Like To Filibuster)
Alex's brain short-circuited.
He blinked. He rubbed his eyes.
The shirt remained.
As did the observation that other than said shirt, Henry was only in a pair of boxers, long legs practically dripping over the side of the couch artfully as he snorted.
Alex may actually die to this man.
"Henry," he managed, his voice a bewildered croak.
Henry looked up, a mischievous glint in his eyes. He affected an air of innocent surprise, as if he hadn't spent the last ten minutes strategically positioning himself for maximum impact. "Oh, darling! You're back. How was David's walk?"
David, sensing the shift in attention, trotted in from the kitchen, tail wagging hopefully. He nudged Alex's leg, oblivious to the sartorial bombshell his other father was sporting as he gestured wildly in the air for several minutes, spluttering before- "What on earth are you wearing?"
Henry shrugged, a devilish grin spreading across his face. "I thought it would be a fun surprise. You know, just a little something to show off my political prowess." He struck a mock-serious pose, hand to his chin, as if deep in thought.
"Oh my god, you are actually trying to kill me. Jesus Christ, I haven't seen you in days, warn a man."
"No," Henry said, standing up and sauntering toward Alex, a predatory glint in his eye. "I'm not trying to kill ypu. I'm trying to…inspire you. Is it working"
Alex groaned before burying his face head first into Henry's chest, the smell of Henry's skin getting to him. "You are, as you say, incorrigible."
"You love it," Henry said, nuzzling into his curls as the atmosphere suddenly changed, kissing Alex's ear. "I know you just got off work, but perhaps we can discuss your filibustering techniques in…more detail?"
Henry's smirk said something completely different and by God if Alex wasn't taking the bait. "Well, my…" Alex licked his lips. "- technique involves some very long, very passionate debates… as well as some complete disregard for procedure on a good day."
He looked Henry up and down as he spoke and could practically see the man shiver. Alex grinned, almost shaking himself. "I'm sure we'll find issues to fill the time."
"I'd rather you'd fill me." That was all it took from Henry's mouth for Alex to push him up against the wall with his knee in between the latter's legs and they're both gone. He doesn't remember exactly how Henry ends up eventually on top of him, not when they moved into the bedroom upstairs in the haze of it all, but in all honesty, he doesn't care.
Together, as always, they were home.