#pez&henry friendship my beloved

[cricketnationrise]

Week 52: Egg (1)

(week 52?!?!?! holy shit guys)

“He’s a good egg, you know.”

Henry hums in question.

“Your strumpet,” Pez says pointedly. “He’s a good one.”

“Oh. You really think so?”

“I know I joke, but Hazza, I’ve waited years for you to be this happy. If Alex does that for you? Then I owe him a great deal.”

“Pez…”

“It’s nice to see you content, is all,” Pez shrugs. “Now, if he could give me actionable tips for wooing his gorgeous sister and best friend…”

Henry groans good-naturedly. “Introducing you two was a mistake; you’re both menaces of the highest order.”

“We love you too, Henry.”

[littlemisskittentoes]

Get To Know Your Fanfic Writer!

first and foremost, massive thank you to @affectionatelyrs for the tag. it made me smile lots 💖

When Did You Post Your First Fanfic?

I’m still such a baby to posting fanfic. I have a long history of starting something, and leaving it to die unfinished.

My maiden voyage of actually finish something and posting was less than a month ago! Only this past September.

First Characters You Wrote For?

Unfinished and unposted? Harry Styles and Louis Tomlinson.

First ones other people actually got to witness? FirstPrince, my beloveds.

Main Characters You’re Currently Writing For?

FirstPrince, my beloveds.

I’m also hoping to dive a bit more into June and Nora!

Characters You Haven’t Written About Before, But Plan to Soon?

Nora and Alex’s friendship. I think their connection is so sweet and special. I just haven’t dove too far into it yet.

Platonic Pairings You Currently Write For?

Honestly, I haven’t written too much of the platonic connections within the Super Six into my fics yet. But, I cannot help but give Pez some screen time.

I so completely adore Pez and Henry’s friendship. That being said, I’m also so in love with Pez’s character that I am terrified of writing him and doing any sort of disservice to the enigma that is Percy Okonjo. So, I still find myself straying away from really diving into including Pez. One of these days…

Romantic Pairings You Currently Write For?

FirstPrince, my beloveds. And also, as of tonight, Nora and June!

Your Top 3 AO3 Tags?

1. Hurt/Comfort

2. Fluff

3. ‘No beta’ related tags… 😬

Current Platform Where You Post Your Works?

AO3, baby!

A Snippet From a Current WIP?

A snippet from an assassination attempt WIP, that will still not be posted for quite some time—

“Forever” moved from being feeling, something Alex could feel waltzing in the air around Henry, to something hiding in the corners of their brownstone. It whispered in the steam rising from their mugs– early gray for Henry, coffee with only sugar and cinnamon for Alex. In the way the mug was always hot and waiting for him on the counter when Alex finally dragged himself out of their bed and down the stairs, long minutes after Henry had convinced himself to stir.

(Henry admitted once that the cinnamon was a stolen strategy: one selfishly burrowed away into his memory after tracing the words along the fact sheet that had fallen into his lap the weekend all those years ago. Almost like his own personal four-leaf clover.)

Now, “forever” peeked out from the chain hanging above their sink, swaying softly in the breeze, when they eased the window open in the spring. The key and ring clinking together like piano keys; the melody so far away from the dependence they used to cling to in order to ground themselves.

(Alex whispered to Henry one night, bodies still damp beneath a light sheet. It had been when the touch of their skin against one another was still new. The butterflies still fluttered in quiet nervousness. Both of them were still in awe that they were allowed this now.

Alex’s eyes stayed closed, and the chain along his neck rose and fell quickly with his still-racing heart. He whispered into Henry’s neck that it was funny– how he never took this key off, but he had never felt further from the boy he had been in Texas. Henry had held him closer, let the warmth of his skin pour into Alex’s while the gravity of deciding to go to law school, to relax his grip on the idea of a life he had picked for himself, had run himself ragged trying to hold on to, sunk in.)

“Forever” inked itself into the ring along their left hands, and the phone numbers of florists and highlighted tasting appointments dotted along their shared calendar by the door.

Happy wasn’t novel or exhilaratingly new anymore. It was comfortable and safe now, like the sound of waves lapping at the dock of the lake house, or the echo of solitary footsteps around the marble halls of the V&A.

Perhaps that's why the red of Alex’s blood along his crisp button down, blooming like the freshly steeped agua de jamaica Henry had sipped nervously his first time meeting Alex’s tías, confused Henry at first. He had to hear the pop echo along the street, chased away by shrill screams of people around them. He had to watch Alex watch the spot creep out. He had to watch Alex press his shaking hand, glinting with that damn ring, against his chest. He had to watch Alex’s knees give out and race towards the concrete of the sidewalk before he understood.

no pressure tagging these lovely, lovely writers @inexplicablymine @hypnostheory @happiness-of-the-pursuit

[cricketnationrise]

Congratulations on 500 followers omg you definitely deserve it!! I love, love, LOVE your fics I swear your writing never fails to make my day!!<3

16:04

Anywhere in the brownstone

Percy Okonjo

(I'm ThePlayfulFairy on ao3)

PEZ MY BELOVED

thanks for the excuse to write some more of him, with bonus Henry friendship because i love that too.

read the rest of the ficlets here

❤️🤍💙❤️🤍💙

4:04pm, the brownstone

Now

“Henry, I’ve found it. I’m sending you the address right now, so get your royal backside in gear and get here as soon as bloody possible.”

Pez sends the voice note with a distracted tap, not taking his eyes off the facade of the building in front of him.

Then

“What do you think about me helping out more with the shelters?” Henry’s wringing his hands—not playing with the signet ring as usual, although Pez has his own private suspicions about where that particular heirloom fidget toy has gone—which means he’s nervous.

“You’re already donating every cent you can get away with, Hazza—”

“I mean— What if I were more hands on?”

The lightbulb goes off in Pez’s head. “The New York shelter. You want to move to The States.”

Henry ducks his head with a blush. “It would be a good way to give back more immediately than donating could ever be.”

“And you want to be closer to your strumpet.”

Henry blushes again, but doesn’t deny it. “It would be enough to be in the same time zone more than a few times a year.”

Pez pulls his best friend in for a fierce hug. “Then let’s make it happen, babes. The Brooklyn location will need a Director once it’s done being renovated.”

Now

A sleek SUV with blacked-out windows pulls up to the curb where Pez is waiting. He bounces on his heels while the PPO’s do a sweep of the building. When they return with the all-clear, Pez bounds forward to haul Henry out of the car.

“See? Isn’t it bloody perfect? The whole building is up for sale—not on the general market, my realtor tipped me off that the current owner is looking to move out of the city.”

“Pez…” Henry’s speechless, gazing up at the perfectly maintained brickwork and welcoming front stoop nestled among the rest of the brownstones on the block.

Then

Hazza: PEZ PEZ I GOT PERMISSION DISGRUNTLED, BACKED INTO A CORNER, RELUCTANT PERMISSION BUT PERMISSION NONETHELESS I’M ALLOWED TO MOVE TO NEW YORK

Auntie Pezza: [excited.gif] [muchexcite.pic] [sqealing_charlotte.gif] HEN YOU BEAUTIFUL BEAN SPROUT YOU’RE EVEN MULTIPLE TEXTING IN ALL CAPS I’M SO BLOODY PROUD

Hazza: The situation did seem to call for it. I guess Alex has been rubbing off on me.

Auntie Pezza: HENRY I’M—

Hazza: Wait.

Auntie Pezza: I’M SURE HE IS 

Hazza: Don’t. I beg you to not.

Auntie Pezza: IN MORE WAYS THAN ONE

Hazza: I really should know better by now.

Auntie Pezza: 🍆💦🍆💦🍆💦 You really should.

But seriously you should send me whatever draconian security measures your new abode will have to accommodate and i’ll get someone looking asap

Now

Pez escorts Henry up the steps and into the brownstone with unrestrained glee, delighting at the awe and dawning excitement on Henry’s face as he looks around.

Each room they pass through is well taken care of, and clearly well-loved. Nothing is pristine; doorways and floors and furnishings bear the hallmarks of age and growing children. There’s heaps of windows letting in natural light, catching the edge of Henry’s smile as he drags his fingers along countertops and railings. Henry doesn’t interrupt Pez’s monologue about the specifics as they climb the stairs to the top floor, content to listen as Pez rambles on about bedroom size and how long it's been since the bathrooms were updated. He doesn’t speak at all, in fact, until they get to the main suite.

“Oh,” Henry gasps, staring at the bay window overlooking the street. Pez watches him move toward it as if drawn by magnets, one hand already reaching out to stroke the window frame reverently. Pez congratulates himself—he knew Henry would love the rest of the house, but that the window would sell him completely.

“I’ll take it,” Henry says, resolute. He’s sat on the cushion in the window now, looking down at the people bustling on the sidewalk below. He looks at home there, like the house was designed with this moment in mind.

“I’ll get my realtor on it,” Pez says, already texting furiously. “And I know a few contractors from the shelter that could do the security updates the Crown will insist on and—”

“Pez.”

“Hmm?” He pauses and looks up at his best friend at the sound of his name.

“Thank you.”

Pez crosses the room, pulls Henry up and into a tight hug. “It’s my genuine pleasure, Henry.” He squeezes a little tighter before pulling back, smirking. “Reckon Alex will cry when you tell him?”