#sundershend

CW: Suggestive content, mentions of smoking and drinking.

Summary: James is an odd man who disrupts Henry's usual routine.

Ao3 link is here

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Henry liked to keep himself on a strict regimen of familiar routines. Everything had a time, a place, a way it goes. Sorted into a box and placed away somewhere in his mind space so he can get to it later. James, on the other hand, was somewhat wishy-washy in nature.

He tends to disappear and come back whenever he pleases.

Not that it wasn't a welcome surprise, quite the opposite actually. At least for Henry, James was a welcome change in his routine he enjoyed just as much as keeping up with it on the regular.

"James-" Henry placed a hand on the other man's chest after they parted lips "-I've been meaning to ask."

James opened his eyes, and looked at Henry with a half-lidded expression, sitting on top of him. He wasn't enthusiastic about the sloppy make-out session being interrupted, in fact James lived for these sorts of moments with the younger man.

"Hmm?" James hummed, in a question-like manner. Trying to bring Henry's mouth back over to him with his eyes.

Henry contemplated for a moment- maybe there was a gentler way to word his question? Not that it mattered anyway, he had James' attention for the moment.

"You're Sunderland- like the superintendent. Do you know him?"

It seemed like a simple enough question for Henry to ask. Sunderland wasn't an uncommon surname, but it wasn't exactly common either. Based on the slight shift in his face and demeanor, James clearly did not share this opinion.

James' glazed-over eyes blinked, looking at, and then quickly away from Henry's. James chewed at the inside of his mouth, clearly unsure of how to answer the question. Was it that hard to answer?

Henry watched as James took Henry's hand in his own- the one that had been placed on his chest to create distance- and set it aside. When his eyes finally caught back up with Henry's, the oddity in his demeanor had gone back to it's usual.

"No." James told Henry, placing his thumb on Henry's bottom lip."Not everyone who has the same last name is directly related."

It was sound enough logic on its own, but Henry's mind couldn't help but wander. Even with James' mouth back on his own, sort-of hungrily waiting for an invitation to enter.

Typically, Henry would have his eyes closed for this sort of thing. But he couldn't help but over-analyze James' facial features, waiting to see if that shift in his demeanor returned again.

All he really took note of was that James' lips weren't as chapped as last time - an interesting tidbit to note for later. But the blonde man did still have his usual dark circles under his eyes.

They seemed to fluctuate in intensity, but Henry never brought it up. It surely can't be easy to sleep at night when your spouse is deceased, no matter how long it's been. Henry had a hard time sleeping for rather trivial reasons in comparison.

Once they stopped kissing again for the umpteenth time to catch their breath, Henry couldn't help but interrupt with another question, almost as if it was nagging on his mind.

"Are you sure..?"

James laughed softly at Henry's question, an emotion he didn't see the older man express often.

"You're talkative tonight." James noted, looking into Henry's eyes. Waiting for an answer.

"Um... Just wondering, I guess..." Henry's sentence trailed off towards the end.

Was James changing the topic intentionally, or simply making a note of Henry's odd behavior? He didn't know how else to respond, Henry always hated being put on the spot.

James scooted forward in the younger man's lap, causing the man underneath him to hitch his breathing. Before Henry's mind could catch back up to the present moment, their lips were intertwined once again.

Running his hands down Henry's sides, James stopped at his hips. Teasing the waistband of his pants with his thumbs, making it more difficult for Henry to focus on the current task at hand.

He decided to let the question go for now.

-×-

Henry wondered what exactly James did for work. He didn't keep it a secret that his typical schedule involved long nights and not resting until early in the morning. Sure, maybe the addiction to caffeine would take it's toll one day on Henry, but it kept the lights on in room 302.

However, James always had the time to swing by whenever Henry was available. Sometimes, James would stay a while laying in Henry's bed. They would talk a bit about whatever was on James' mind that day. Henry didn't do much of the talking, if at all. But he preferred it that way.

Other times, Henry would let James borrow his shower to clean up before he left. He tried to keep an extra set of towels around just in case. James liked to take scalding hot showers, and Henry liked to study the patches on James' jacket while he waited for the other man to finish.

This time, James left relatively quickly once the two finished their late night activities. He was hardly ever in a rush, so Henry was put off by the other man's urgency to leave.

Henry stood outside his apartment building, taking a long drag off a cigarette from a box James left at his apartment one time. It wasn't a vice he was proud of per se, but it helped take his mind away from what was bothering him.

And the thing that was bothering him was the exact same thing putting him in this predicament - James.

At first, Henry had shrugged off James leaving rather quickly. Perhaps he had some errands to run, or needed to be up early in the morning, he thought.

But as Henry stood outside with only the stupid cigarette to keep him company at two or three, or however early in the morning it was, he couldn't help but wonder if he did something to put the other man off.

It was around the time they'd typically wrap up their evening hook-ups, but instead of conversing with James, Henry was outside. Thinking about him, and wondering why on earth he hadn't heard from the other man for about a week or so.

Was James even thinking about Henry? He wasn't sure if he wanted the answer to that question. He met the man at a bar a couple of months ago - why Henry even went in the first place was beyond him - and things escalated from there.

This is my OTP chart none asked me about lol

James knew what was right, and it was to deny the boy. So why did he feel wrong? Why did he feel like he had wronged him? He hadn't been selfish, had he?! Wouldn't he have been selfish if he had actually accepted and embraced the boy's love? If he had let himself drown in the warm and sweet love of his kind heart?

He sighed, fidgeting with the whiskey glass without taking it. His head moving to the sides just like the glass, as if confusion covered his body like a thin but long veil and he was trying to shake it off, yet not being effective at it. Were his feelings of guilt selfish? Was he addicted to the familiarity of it? "Happy" that something in his life was constant, a constant company. An ache that made him feel alive despite his stupid and empty life without Mary?

And yet, he wanted that love, he really wanted it, but it was a foreign thing (to him now), he couldn't predict if he was going to fuck up, and honestly? He didn't deserve Henry. A young man with so much to live still, although Henry wasn't that much younger than him, to James, he was. For James, he was too old for anything but his penitence, his self-hatred.

He couldn't have it. The boy would have his heart broken for a time, but it would heal; he was young. James' heart was...It wouldn't survive after he eventually fucked it up.

Summary:

Sundershend AU where Henry is a wedding photographer (even if only for a day)

I mostly write about James and/or Henry. But I've writing OC, Maria, Angela stuff, too...