Firstprince and #11 for the winter prompts!!!
(Helloooooo and Happy New Year! Convienent that at least one of these is still timely, lol. This is 11. "Competition to see who can bring the hottest date to the New Year’s party," though I've left the parenthetical spoiler out here and in the fic notes on AO3. Office AU, multiple POV. I hope you enjoy!)
May Your New Years Dreams Come True
Read it on AO3 (T, 3.1k)
Henry
~~~~~
It’s a confluence of unfortunate events that sets the whole thing off.
Henry’s standing in front of the electric kettle in the break room, waiting for his water to boil and minding his own business, when he hears a familiar cadence of footsteps coming down the corridor. After all this time, he still can’t help but tense up, no matter how hard he tries to be something approaching normal around him.
The arrival of one Alex Claremont-Diaz will never fail ruin Henry’s cool.
This time, though, he’s not alone. The nasal pitch of Hunter’s voice carries down the hallway and into the break room, even as Alex’s steps pick up speed in a futile attempt to lose him. Henry stares down at the kettle and wills it to boil faster, or for them to bypass the break room entirely, but luck is not on his side today. Alex strides in, Hunter hot on his heels, and walks immediately over to the coffee pot next to where Henry stands.
“Fox,” Alex says in greeting, and somehow that one syllable manages to be loaded.
“Alex,” Henry returns. He quirks an eyebrow; Alex rolls his eyes in the rough direction of where Hunter is still behind him and makes a gagging face that has Henry pressing his lips together against a laugh.
“… so I told her about the party and of course she wants to come. I mean, who could blame her?” Hunter is saying, the inane babbling finally resolving into words in Henry’s consciousness. “What about you, Alex? Do you have a date for the party yet?”
“Hm?” Alex hums, finally looking away from where he’s been seemingly trying to stare a hole in Henry’s head. He turns toward Hunter and smiles insincerely. “Oh, sure. Definitely. Super hot.”
Henry blinks. He doesn’t know what he expected Alex’s answer to be, but it wasn’t that.
“Oh yeah?” Hunter replies eagerly. “How hot are we talking? Because this girl I’m bringing”—he whistles in a way that makes Henry cringe—“she’s so hot.”
“Yeah, man,” Alex says in that tone of voice that Henry suspects Hunter doesn’t realize is mocking him. “Tall. Blond. Legs for days.” He pauses, his grin sharpening as he leans back against the counter with his coffee. “In fact, I’d wager money my date will by far be the hottest there.”
Hunter scoffs, which honestly Henry doesn’t understand. It’s not like Alex hasn’t pulled in some real lookers to previous years’ parties, much to Henry’s chagrin. “Really? You want to bet?”
Alex shrugs. “Sure.”
“Henry,” Hunter says suddenly, finally—and unfortunately—acknowledging that he’s actually been standing there the whole time. “You want in on this?”
“Yeah, Fox,” Alex jumps in unexpectedly, a challenging glint in his eye and an aggressive smirk on his lips. “What about your date? You want in on this?”
No, Henry most certainly does not. He doesn’t know why it didn’t occur to him that this would be an issue. The office’s party is legendary. Instead of throwing a holiday do, they go all out on New Year’s Eve: black tie, caviar, a view of the ball drop in Times Square, and of course, endless, overflowing champagne. Henry always attends alone—a fact which he knows Alex is well familiar with—because although he’s out to a significant portion of company’s employees, he’s never really felt a need to let the rest of them know anything about his personal life. It doesn’t help that none of his prospective dates never seem have the potential to match up to the one he’s always wanted to be there with. To the one person he’s longed to kiss at midnight ever since he started working here.
The same person who happens to be currently trying to set him afire with his mind from across his coffee cup. Who has to make everything into a competition. How Henry ended up regrettably and hopelessly in love with this man, he’ll never understand.
Still, there’s no explaining why his mouth opens and he says, “Why not? Fifty quid.”
“You talk like an alien,” Alex says immediately, rolling his eyes. “But you’re on. In dollars, none of that make-believe money y’all have.”
“Nice,” Hunter adds, unfortunately reminding both of them that he’s still in the room. “Let the best man win.”
~~~~~
Nora
~~~~~
“You gotta help me,” Alex says in a rush, closing the supply closet door behind him when he finds her.
Nora sighs and sets down the three reams of paper that she’d come in there to get, taking in the disarray of his curls, as if he’s been running his hands through them, and the slightly wild look in his eyes. “What did you do now?”
“It was just supposed to be a stupid joke,” he whines, like that’s should mean anything to her. “And somehow now it’s a whole thing. I think half the office is in on it.”
“Ohhhhh. The bet,” she surmises, letting a smirk tip onto her lips. It had somehow become all anyone in the office wanted to talk about in the last two days. “Yeah, not one of your best ideas. On the bright side, though, the pot is going to be huge. Maybe I can get that new GPU I’ve been wanting.”
“Hold on, you’re not telling me that you bought in too?” Nora nods, and Alex groans. “Jesus, Nora. You can’t be serious.”
“Why not? Your sister is a stone-cold fox, and in an evening gown?” She gives a low whistle. “It’s in the bag.”
“Don’t.”
Nora looks at him, then, really looks at him, for the first time since he cornered her. He’s twitchy, worried like she hasn’t seen him in a while. Whatever issue he’s currently having with Henry—because it’s always something to do with Henry—it’s weighing on him more than usual. “Wait, do you even have a date?”
“Of course I do,” he scoffs.
“Oh yeah?” she says, raising her eyebrows. As far as she knows, Alex hasn’t been out with anyone who wasn’t her or June in ages. He’s certainly not seeing anyone. “Who is she? Do I know her?”
Alex fidgets some more, chewing on the corner of his thumb. A tell. 100% chance he’s lying about something; she gives it a 45% likelihood he doesn’t have a date yet, 34% he does but she’s not actually as hot as he’s making her out to be, 21% that something else is going on that she doesn’t have the data for yet.
“Yes. No. It’s not important,” he mumbles as he tries to wave her off. “I have a date.”
She bumps the ‘something else’ percentage to 39%, maybe higher, and considers trying to ply him with bourbon sometime in the next few nights. “So it’s about Henry’s date, then,” she guesses.
At that, he looks momentarily stricken before he reigns it back in. “Why would you say that?” he demands. She definitely hit a nerve.
“Henry’s never brought a date to these things before, but he’s bringing one this year. You’re being weird about something. Ergo, it follows that Henry’s date has something to do with it.”
“You’re insane. That’s not— it has nothing to do with that.” He straightens, and sniffs dismissively. “I just think that ranking peoples’ dates’ hotness is reductive.”
“Right,” Nora laughs. “Now you do. You’re just worried you’re going to lose.”
“Definitely not,” he huffs. “Who’s even going to be the judge?”
“Oh, that’s already settled. Zahra said she would do it.” It’s the perfect solution, really. If anyone could have the authority to judge and not have anyone A) take it personally, or B) argue, it would be Zahra.
Alex drags a hand over his face, groaning miserably. “Now Zahra’s involved too?!”
~~~~~
Pez
~~~~~
Pez is pretty sure Henry is avoiding him.
It’s not an easy thing to do, given that they work in the same division and also spend a large amount of their free time together, but somehow Henry is managing it. He slips away whenever he hears Pez coming, and when Pez began sneaking up on him, he started wriggling away with some made up excuse. Pez knows very well why: the bet. The one that he couldn’t believe Henry actually agreed to when he’d heard about it secondhand. Of course, all sense seems to fly out the window whenever they’re dealing with darling Alex, so perhaps he shouldn’t be surprised.
Eventually, after an entire two days of fruitless pursuit, Pez simply shows up at his apartment unannounced and unwilling to take no for an answer. Henry surprisingly buzzes him in without question and answers the door straight away, and the way that his eyes go wide in surprise and his face actually falls—wow, rude—when he sees it’s Pez on his doorstep confirms he was expecting someone else.
“Pez,” he says weakly, trying to recover his composure and largely failing. “What are you doing here?”
“Can’t a guy drop by to visit his best friend?” Pez replies, pushing his way in before Henry can close the door on him. He holds out the bottle of brandy he brought as reinforcements. “We need to chat, my dear.”
Henry deflates. His hair has been styled and he’s wearing the blue sweater that Pez instructed him to deploy when he really wants to make a guy swoon over his eyes; definitely a date. “Look, I understand what you’re trying to do, and I appreciate it, I do, but…” He hesitates. “I’m expecting company tonight.”
“Company,” Pez echoes, arching one elegant eyebrow at him. “Please tell me this company is the mysterious scorching-hot date that you’ve somehow managed to acquire for the New Year’s party.”
“No. Yes.” Henry sighs. “He’s going to be here any minute, Pez.”
“How convenient. I’m dying to meet him.”
“Pez—”
“Hazza, I don’t know why you’re hiding him from me,” Pez interrupts before he can finish his protest. “This is a good thing, as far as I’m concerned. I love you, but if I have to spend another New Year’s Eve watching you sulk next to the croquembouche while Alex kisses someone else at midnight I might lose my bloody mind.”
“I can promise you that’s not going to happen this year,” Henry says. He actually seems to mean it, even.
“Good. Well I’m glad you found someone, even if you won’t let me meet him yet for reasons that are entirely unfathomable to me,” Pez says, though he’s not at all satisfied. Then he adds, as an afterthought, “Especially after having to listen to Alex go on about how ridiculously attractive his date is. I rather think he must be overselling it, personally.”
He does not miss the way that Henry goes slightly pink at that and looks away, unwilling to meet his eye, so perhaps things aren’t as rosy as they might appear. If Henry’s let himself get pulled into a silly competition because he thinks it’s going to get Alex to finally notice him, Pez is afraid he’s going to be sorely mistaken. He just hopes the poor sod that Henry’s dragging to this thing isn’t expecting too much.
“I’ll tell you soon,” Henry promises, looking slightly pained. “It’s only… everything is very new still. I don’t want to jinx anything.”
That’s— well, unexpected. Pez doesn’t know how Henry could have found some chap that he could be this interested in without him knowing about it, but apparently just such a thing seems to have happened. As his eyebrows climb ceiling-ward, he asks, “It’s serious then?”
Henry manages a small smile. “I hope so.”
~~~~~
Alex
~~~~~
Alex tugs at the front of his red velvet tux jacket even though it’s perfectly straight already, unable to stop fidgeting as anticipation thrums through his veins. The main doors to the venue keep opening and admitting not the person he’s waiting for, and he can’t resist turning to look even though he knows it’s not quite time. This was his plan, so there’s no one to blame but himself. Make an entrance, he’d said. It’ll be hilarious. Along with, Yes, I’m sure.
He’d had to say that last one a lot. This whole thing is kind of a big statement, and he could have just… not made it. His coworkers aren’t entitled to his personal life. He can’t express how much he wants this, though. He doesn’t want to hide, not when this feels like such a important part of himself. Ok, he probably could have made a smaller statement, but in his defense he never expected it blow up like this. In the end, he decided to lean into the absurdity of it all. Nora will probably call him a drama queen and June will roll her eyes, but the looks on their faces will be worth it.
Somehow he’s gotten stuck standing next to Hunter, which is terrible but also kind of appropriate given how this has started. The other man has barely left Alex alone since he arrived sans date, like he won’t be satisfied until he sees whoever is meeting Alex at the party. For his part, Alex has to admit that Hunter’s date turned out to be a very attractive woman, whom he has no idea how Hunter of all people pulled.
Still not hotter than his date.
“This mystery date of yours going to show up any time soon?” Nora teases, appearing at his side with June in tow and, inexplicably, seemingly Pez in tow as well. Alex is not sure he wants to know what’s going on there.
“Yeah. Any minute now,” Alex answers with more confidence than he feels.
“I can’t believe Hazza’s not here yet,” Pez mutters, stretching up on his toes to look around, as if Henry wouldn’t be obvious. He’s taller than most of the office, save Shaan.
Alex’s phone buzzes in his pocket, and he doesn’t have to check it to know what it says. A few moments later, the venue doors open again, and this time when Alex inevitably turns to look he sees Henry walking in wearing an impeccably tailored classic black tux.
“There,” Alex says, pointing across the room.
“Huh? Where?” Hunter asks as he cranes to look. “Is she behind Henry?”
“Not exactly.”
“I don’t see anyone new, Alex, are you sure—”
Alex doesn’t hear the rest, or anything that anyone else around him says, because Henry’s confidently striding across the room toward him with a smile slowly curling onto his lips, and nothing else in the world matters anymore. Henry barely comes to a stop in front of him before Alex is tugging him down into a kiss, because standing in any proximity with Henry and not kissing him is a crime (sometimes, work days are torture). Henry’s lips move softly against his as his hand comes to rest on the narrow part of Alex’s waist, and Alex simply lets himself get lost in it for an unknown amount of time before he finally pulls back.
“Hey baby,” he says, grinning like an absolute fool. “Took you long enough. Any later and you might have missed the judging.”
“I arrived precisely when you told me to, you absolute demon,” Henry retorts affectionately. “In any case, I’m pretty sure we’ve disqualified ourselves, love.”
“Ask me if I care,” Alex murmurs against his lips, then kisses him soundly again before he can answer.
They spend most of the night fielding questions, unsurprisingly; more than once they have to engineer an actual escape from the collective clutches of Pez, Nora, and June, stealing off into a secluded corridor to get lost in each other’s arms and mouths for as long as they can manage before they get dragged back to the party. But even when they have to behave themselves and actually socialize with their coworkers, the novelty of being there together, of being able to slip his arm around Henry’s waist and press close against his side, of not having to constantly moderate looks on his face, of being able to be himself, is intoxicating. Alex feels drunk on it even moreso than the champagne, though the champagne is definitely helping.
A little before midnight, their boss commandeers the microphone from the DJ and calls for everyone’s attention. “All right you miscreants,” Zahra announces, and she must be fairly drunk herself because she’s nearly laughing as she speaks. “I’ve been informed that it’s my responsibility to judge—Jesus fucking Christ—hottest date, because you all are apparently fourteen years old.” Her eyes sweep the assembled crowd and find Alex and Henry, who remain practically glued together. “I’ve also been recently informed that two of the initiators of this farce were operating with insider information, so really, I should call the whole thing off.”
“Boo!” Alex calls out, which draws scattered laughter from the others and a reluctantly fond eye roll from Zahra.
“I should, but I won’t,” she continues.
“So who won?” someone calls out.
“Oh, that’s easy,” Zahra says, her smile going wickedly smug. “Me.”
Then she takes a few purposeful strides to the right, grabs Shaan by the arm, and drags him into a lingering kiss. The crowd immediately bursts into surprised chatter and cheers, and someone—look, it might have been Alex, but he’s not owning up to it—wolf-whistles, which finally makes her break off and glare at all of them.
“All right, all right, enough of that!” she shouts over them. “Go drink your fucking champagne and get ready for the new year. The ball drops in two minutes!”
One minute and forty-five seconds later, Henry has Alex wrapped up in his arms and is staring down at him with a look that’s so fucking smitten that Alex might actually melt. They’re standing in front of the picture windows that look out at the ball in Times Square, its lights glittering as it prepares to make its descent, but despite the frankly epic view, they only have eyes for each other.
“Sorry I cost you fifty quid,” Henry says, sounding not very sorry at all.
“It’s dollars, you alien,” Alex huffs as he grins up at him. Henry is so achingly beautiful, the angles of his face lit up by the lights of the city, and Alex knows he was right about the bet no matter what. He shrugs, trying and probably failing to look nonchalant. “S’ok. I won anyway.”
Henry laughs. “That was terribly sentimental of you, love.”
“I know,” Alex groans, pretending to gag. “Don’t tell anyone I said that.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it.” Around them, the countdown starts; neither of them even have a glass of champagne, though that’s probably for the best at this point. “I’ve been waiting to do this for a long time,” Henry murmurs, just audible over the shouted counting of their coworkers.
“Do what?”
And then, at midnight, Henry kisses him.
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