With Celine Dion’s It’s All Coming Back To Me Now playing in the background, Alexander sat on the floor of his living room, drink in hand while planning the project at hand he had planned for the day. He was restless, there had been a couple of stressful weeks and whenever he was going through a personal conundrum; he’d go about it two ways: camping or building. Due to work, Alexander didn’t have the opportunity to grab Pollux and go on one of his usual camping trips where he disappeared for days, sometimes weeks with no end but he did have the ability to use his hands and completely revamp his entire home, leaving on of the empty rooms for last where he had no idea what to make; not to mention he had an amazing best friend who had agreed on helping him set everything up.
Alas why Harry was on Alex’s home as a frantic Alex looked at the planning he had done, exhaling deeply “I’ve been breaking my head over this for a week and I still don’t know what to do. See, this is why people only buy houses once they get married, why the hell do I need thee rooms and two bathrooms? It’s just me and Pollux, and I can’t justify giving him a room for himself” he sighed exasperated. There was more than what touched the surface regarding his moodiness, but that was not here no there. “Will you tell me the truth if I ask if I would look like an asshole, putting up an air hockey table and a pool table in the spare room? Fuck, I need a break, I can’t even concentrate” he sighed. He had had the same problem at work. He then found his friend’s gaze, which made him encourage himself to grin “How freaked out are you about having a girl? I’m thinking of betting Cece on how much you’ll cry when she’s born.” // @hvandenbrg
spending time with alexander was harry’s favourite activity. it was hilarious, how he was able to find himself in a situation where he would be checking calendars and times as soon as he and his friend parted ways, to roughly calculate when he would be able to see him again. and the fact that alex enjoyed his company just as much as harry did... it meant the world to the brit. after all, he did pick him as his best man for a reason! he wasn’t only his best friend, he was also the best man he knew. perhaps the closest friend he’d had since he was in his teens. so, to say the agent had a special place in harry’s heart was an understatement. and to see him all... frantic, almost distressed, over a home renovation of all things? it worried him, but he did his best not to let it show. it was good to let the man drain his emotions how he could, right? it was his job as his friend to support him and be there for him, but not to get them out of him for him. so, he sat nearby, watching the plans he had for the place and at his phone for ideas — a neat trick he had learned from cece — while his free hand scratched the labradoodle’s head; and he hummed along to the song softly.
he came to realise that multitasking was not his forte when he was abruptly pulled from the song to deposit his full attention on his friend. he also felt pollux protesting under his hand, only then noticing he had stopped petting him. “hey, you never know — he might appreciate the privacy.” he joked, scratching the dog’s head for emphasis. he raised an eyebrow as the agent sighed, but got sidetracked by the thought of an air-hockey table and a pool table in the room. he even perked up. “mate, no, that’s brilliant. we could even arrange it all so it looks like those pubs in london, you know — we can install some bookcases into the walls, make it all fancy. and maybe even install a murphy bed into a bookcase for when i inevitably move in.” harry added with a grin. “a mini fridge, and you’d be all set. i can see it.” the man added excitedly, but slowly slid back into his comfortable position as alexander announced his frustration. their eyes met, and although harry saw the smile, he also saw the tiredness. he was about to say something, but alex beat him to it. “whoa, whoa. you can’t say that and then move on to something completely unrelated, warren. what’s going on with you? you do seem out of it. it’s odd.” the brit finally asked, concern in his tone. but thinking back at his friend’s question, he had to add to his words. “ — but! feel free, if you’re feeling like setting yourself for failure. when have i ever cried?” he asked in a playfully sarcastic tone: if anyone had seen him cry more than once it had been alex, perhaps even more than cece ever had.
