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The door slammed shut — louder than usual. Henry let out a heavy breath as anger seeped out of him, leaving only a hollow aching regret in it's wake. This fight had been worse than the last. He pressed the heels of palms into his stinging eyes.
It seemed that's all they did lately. Fight, fuck, patch things over for a little while, then circle back to the same storm. Henry dropped his hands and rolled his neck, forcing himself towards the mess on the floor — where Hans had tried to slam his mug on the counter and missed, shattering it across the kitchen tile.
He crouched collecting the larger shards carefully. A familiar, intrusive thought whispered in his mind: clench down, draw blood, it will make Hans come back faster. It had worked last time.
He shook the thought out of his head, startling when a cold, wet nose brushed the back of his hand.
"No, Mutt, you'll hurt yourself," he murmured, gently pushing the dog's snout aside. "You can comfort me in a second. I just got to pick this up."
Mutt whined softly. Henry gave his neck a reassuring pat. Maybe it was Mutt who needed comforting more than he did. Mutt had taken to hiding in the bathroom while they yelled at each other. And who even knew were Pebbles dissappeared to wait them out.
"Go to your area. I'll be right with you." Mutt whined again but dutifully padded out of the kitchen and onto his bed in the living room.
"Good boy." Henry managed a small smile, swallowing past the growing knot in his throat. How much longer could they do this? How much more could he take?
He and Hans had been Hans-and-Henry since the beginning of high school — ever since Henry's mom and dad died, and he was sent into the care of his biological father. Fourteen, awkward, grieving, and thrust into a world where everything was different: discovering the man who raised him wasn't his biological father, learning his bio-dad was wealthy and lived in the very nice part of town, that Henry had only been to during Christmas to look at all the lights. On top of realizing that he probably also liked boys.
The first weeks at his new home were a blur of tears and destruction — tearing his room apart, punching holes in walls, staring into nothing for hours. His dad would have never tolerated such tantrums, but Radzig simply stood by on the other side of the opened door. Silent and steady, like the last pillar of a bombed-out house refusing to fall.
After a month, the rage and grief faded into a silence. Henry went through the motions, eating full meals, showering properly, but mostly spent hours lying listlessly in bed. Sometimes he wished he had the courage to end it all, to join in his family — but then their sacrifice would mean nothing. They would have died for nothing. They pushed him out of the way to save him. To let him live.
Radzig had knocked on his door on one of those foggy gray days, Henry turned towards him.
"You need an outlet," Radzig said softly. Henry blinked at him, "do you like swords?"
Henry's eyes widened. His dad made swords — commissioned pieces for wanna-be knights. He'd spent hours watching his father turn metal into something beautiful.
"I do."
"Would you like to try fencing?"
"Fencing?" Henry pictured it, sure it wasn't as heroic looking as medieval swordfighting, but he could imagine sharp movements, the focus, the way his blood would sing, the way he might finally feel alive again. He nodded.
And so, he met Hans. The first time he saw him he was in his bright white kit, holding his helmet under his arm as he drank water. The sun illuminated the gold of his hair, and then his eyes opened and Henry could see the whole sky reflected in them.
They grew, past awkward hellos, to Henry waking up in the winter due to Hans shoving his way into his warm bed whining about how Klara ignored his advances yet again while Henry yelped and fell out of bed. He would usually follow it up by trying to suffocate Hans, until Sam would bang on the wall and yelling at them to shut up.
Sam came into Henry’s life eight months after Henry moved in with Radzig. He was Henry’s older not-brother, his dad's child, someone Henry had never known about, born to a woman Henry would never meet.
Sam’s mother had died after a long illness, when she passed, Sam, only just sixteen, was placed in an institution while authorities searched for a relative. Radzig was contacted, and he left immediately, leaving Henry in the care of Hans and his uncle. Six hours later Henry was face to face with Sam. Sam who looked so much like his dad. Sam who sound like his dad. Henry ran to his room slamming the door shut and cried for what felt like hours.
"Henry," Radzig had said from the other side of his bedroom door, "please be fair. This is hard for him too."
Dinner that night was a quiet, heavy affair. Henry refused to look up; he could feel Radzig glancing between them.
"You don't have to eat if you don't feel up for it, Sam." Radzig said gently. Henry risked a quick glance. Sam was prodding at his pork chop with his fork.
"Oh….uh, it's not that I'm not….grateful, it's just—" Sam inhaled shakily, "I'm Jewish so…" Radzig paled and quickly grabbed Sam's plate.
"I should have asked. Just a second." Henry had never seen Radzig move so quickly. "I have some left over chicken and rice — can you have that? I don't know if it was… well there's a specific way you have to prepare food, isn't there? Let me just—" Radzig rambled from the kitchen.
"Chicken and rice is fine, I'm sorry for the incon—"
"Never apologize for that!" Radzig peered out the kitchen door, "You are not a bother. You are not an inconvience. It's fine." He disappeared again to finish plating and heating up Sam's new meal. "Henry, tell your brother he's welcome here."
Henry sighed and lifted his eyes, Sam was already looking at him.
"Did you know him?" Henry asked soft, a little watery.
"No." Sam's mouth slanted as he looked away, as if he couldn't decide whether he's sad or he's angry. Henry understood that, he only feels sad or angry these days. "My mother never told him — told our Rabbi, my grandfather, that his name was Martin Kovar and that he was dead. Guess that's finally true."
—
Henry's phone rang. Sam. He sighed, of course Hans would go there.
"Sam."
"He's here drunk, loud, and irritating. Come get him, before I call the cops and get his ass trespassed." His brother's voice sharp, Sam wasn't the biggest fan of Hans. They spent most of the time sniping at each other, but they put up with each other because of Henry.
This was a dance they were all familiar with: Henry and Hans would fight, Hans would leave and end up at Sam's bar, get plastered, Sam would call Henry, Henry would go and pick him up.
"I…can't." Henry's voice cracked. It felt like the air was rapidly being sucked out of the room.
"Hal?" Sam's tone shifted instantly.
"I can't." Henry inhaled, wet and raspy. He loved Hans so much. He tried so hard to make him happy. He bent over backwards for him, and what did he have to show for it? The sound on the other side of the call cut out — a door shutting heavily.
"Okay, okay, what do you need, Hal? I need you to breathe." Sam's voice was softer now. Henry could make out the distant sound of a car driving on wet asphalt.
"I'm tired, Sam, I don't think I can — I love him." Henry curled into himself, sobbing silently. He wasn't sure when Sam disconnected the call: all he knew was that suddenly he was being shoved forward as his bedroom door was forced open. And there was Sam, sweating and breathing heavily. And much like Henry had in his youth, he'd collapsed forward, letting his brother carry the weight.
"You're ok, Hal, I'm here." Sam ran his fingers through Henry's hair and Henry clung harder. Mutt forced himself into Henry's lap, he dropped a hand to pet along his spine.
"All we do is fight."
Sam hummed, "We used to be happy. I don't know how to make us happy."
"You're not the only one who has to try. You're worth the effort too. Hal, listen to me — you deserve someone who treats you like you are their whole world too."
Henry pressed his sweaty forehead to his brothers neck. "I think…you should leave." He pulled away from Sam, betrayed.
"I can't do that! Who's going to take care of Hans?"
"Henry. Who is taking care of you?" Sam frowns at him, "Mutt? Pebbles? Hal, you deserve so much more."
"Come home with me. And if you don't want to stay at mine, go to dad's. Land somewhere soft."
"Leave?"
"Yes. Maybe not forever, but long enough for him to get his head out of his ass— and maybe for you to figure out who you are without him."
Forty minutes later, he and Sam had packed Henry's belongings (one box, two suitcases, one duffel), grabbed Mutt and Pebbles' things and loaded everything safely into Henry's car. Sam was kind enough to not say out loud what his face clearly did.
"Let's go," Sam said softly, and Henry nodded. As always, he shut the door far more quietly than Hans ever did.
Radzig didn't even blink when Sam and Henry pulled up to his house at almost one in the morning. He opened the door wider, accepting Pebbles' carrier with care as Henry and Sam carried in Henry's belongings. He even reached down and gave Mutt a loving pat between his ears.
"Hal?" Sam said from the doorway to Henry's childhood bedroom. Henry turned to him.
"Turn your phone off. At least until tomorrow afternoon. I'll bring your favorite for breakfast."
"Thanks, Sam." Sam smiled.
"What are brothers for."
Morning came sluggishly; all of Henry felt heavy, like he was trying to walk against acurrent. He made his way downstairs, the distinct smell of Waffle House luring him to the table.
"I got your abomination." Sam said through a bite of a beef salami and egg bagel sandwich. "Some cheesesteak with 3 eggs sunny-side, and got you double hash browns with mushrooms, onions, and gravy." Henry grinned, and Sam sneered at him.
"You're my favorite brother."
"I'm your only brother."
"Here, fresh coffee for you both," Radzig said, setting down a tray moving Sam's oatmilk closer to him. He sat and sipped at his tea. Henry felt his hackles rise, so he stared at the table and tried to inhale his food as fast as possible.
"So," Radzig hedged.
"Dad, please let him finish eating."
"Samuel, I'm allowed to be worried."
"I know that, dad —just let him eat."
Henry huffed. "Stop talking about me like I'm not here or like I'm a spooked cat." He looked up and groaned at the twin looks they gave him.
"We had a fight." Henry said, "it'll blow over."
"How long until the next one?"
"Next one?" Radzig asked at the same Henry said, "Sam." Radzig squinted at him.
"We argue sometimes." Henry glared at Sam, who rolled his eyes.
"Sometimes?" Radzig turned in his chair to give Henry his full attention.
"Fine, we're going through a rough patch. I'll fix it."
"You'll fix it? Just you?" Radzig sat his mug down. "A relationship is two people, Henry."
"That's what I've told him." Sam says with a small smirk.
"Sam, shut up!" Sam put his hands up in mock surrender.
"I think we will both benefit from a little distance right now." Henry said picking his fork back up. Thankfully, Radzig and Sam knew when to let things go, and the conversation shifted away from Henry.
—
«wher r u get me»
«hnery bar dirk»
«*a grainy blurry photo* hot guy»
«jonngot me taxi»
5 missed calls
«hal were u at? Where mutt n pebbs??????»
6 missed calls
«fuk u»
«henry it's morning, where did you go?»
3 missed calls
«henry you're freaking me out, answer your phone text me back, what the fuck is happening? Your stuff is gone, you took Mutt and Pebbles? Call me, don't do this to me»
«henry please let's talk, I wanna talk, come back»
Henry's hands shook as he read through his notifications. He nearly dropped his phones as it buzzed again, Hans' picture filling his screen.
"Hello?"
"Henry! Thank fuck! Where did you go? I was on my way to your dad's — went to Sam's, but Jon said you weren't there and he didn't know where you went." Hans' voice was loud. Henry sighed.
"I…Hans, don't come here."
"So you are at your dad's! Don't worry, I'm almost there, baby. We'll grab your stuff and come home! I missed Mutt and Pebbles all night, you asshole — you could have left them with me."
"No. And why would I, you didn't even want them." Henry tried to interrupt again. "Don't come here, I ne—"
"Yeah,but only because you went behind my back with that bitch, but it's fine now!"
"Don't call her a bitch. I didn't go behind your back, I told you I was going to the adoption event at Theresa's shelt—"
"I can call her that! She tried to take you from me, back when we graduated high school, did you forget? That's why I didn't want you going there, but you never listen. Anyway, I'm starving, so when we get home can you make me a spam and egg sandwich?"
"Hans, you're not listening!" Henry snapped. "You never listen to me. That's half the problem. I want to stay here. I need—we need— a break. I can't keep fighting with you all the time."
"What?"
"We fight all the time about everything!" Henry swallowed. "What we're doing for dinner at home because we can't go out, even though you eat out once a week. Who was supposed to do the laundry, even though I'm the only one who's been doing it for months. How I nag too much because I want our house to be clean, but you never put in the effort to keep it that way. How you don't like it when I go out with my friends without you, even though you don't like any of them, so I can't see them. You don't want me around your friends for some reason. I'm not a pet you keep at home!" I deserve to be happy too, he didn't add.
"Henry, stop making sound like I'm insane or something, my friends are from Rattay— you know it's a tech company, we talk shop. I didn't want—"
"I'm not stupid," He scoffed, "You know that, right? I'm not an idiot. I manage security teams for high-class events and clients. Fuck Hans, we use Rattay technology. What are you actually scared of?"
"I don't think you're stupid. Don't put your inferiority complex on me. I'm not scared of anything I just know you wouldn't like them." If Henry was calmer, maybe he would've picked up how Hans' voice was quivering — how much he sounded like he did when he was younger, when he ran his mouth too much and regretted it but was too prideful to apologize.
"Them? Or Jitka?"
"What?"
"Jitka." Henry said, "Remember? The reason you screamed at me yesterday? The reason you shattered the mug? Because I asked you who she was."
The silence was deafening — until his phone beeped. Hans had hung up on him.
After a few minutes, the door creaked open. Sam came in with Pebbles in his arms, Mutt hot on heels. Henry sniffed hard and gave Mutt a pat.
"So he's cheating on you? With a woman?" Sam sat next to him, scritching under Pebble's chin.
"I don't know that," Henry said defensively. "That's what we're fighting about."
"Has he done anything out of the ordinary? Staying out late? Eating dinner elsewhere?"
"It's Hans. That's his normal." Henry leaned over resting his head on Sam's shoulder, "I'm tired. I'm so tired, Sam."
"So you keep saying," Sam's says softly, Henry sighed but smiled when Pebbles started purring.
"I don't know what to do."
"Break up with him."
"I…probably should, but….what if it was Jon?"
"….I'm not soft like you are, Hal, if this was me and Jon? I would've already called you to help me get rid of a body." Henry laughed, then inhaled hard. He pinched the bridge of his nose and bit his lip, knowing tears were coming.
"You two are too hot-headed. You'll never have a healthy conversation like that. You took mediation courses when you decided you were gonna be the one to take over Koblya Security. Didn't they teach to take a breath and disengage if you feel too angry? Or something— I don't know. Mostly I signal at a bouncer to haul people that piss me off away from me."
"I know, Hans just makes it hard to think."
—
Eventually, two weeks passed. Then a month, then two. Most of Henry's days were filled with silence. Maybe this was Henry's new normal, maybe this was what he had to get used to—Hans no longer being there with his near-constant chatter, his easy laugher, or they way they used to cuddle on their big couch.
Sam checked in with him, asking whether he and Hans had officially broken up, but they hadn't. Henry was terrified that one day he'd look at his phone and see a notification from Hans saying it was over—that he was engaged to Jikta, whoever the hell she was.
Radzig was a bit clumsy around him, reminiscent of when Henry first moved in. Henry chuckles to himself now, remembering how he once thought Radzig was so strong, standing firm for him and later Sam. But now realizing that Radzig had been scared shitless. Radzig ,who never expected to be a father, suddenlyhaving to parent two overly emotional, grieving teenagers.
«I think we need to talk» Henry blinked down at his phone. Dropping the cup in his hand sending Pebbles skittering out of the kitchen and onto Radzig's lap.
"Henry? Everything alright?"
"Yes sorry, tripped over Pebbles dropped my cup." He could imagine Pebbles indignant face at being made to blame.
«ok, where?» he texted fast, biting his lip, maybe this was it. Where Hans would tell him that he never loved him, that we was moving to Prague with his new lover.
«at home»
Henry sat in his assigned parking spot, fingers drumming nervously on the steering wheel. He'd been sitting there for ten minutes. Head full of useless thoughts. Had Hans kept up with the cleaning? Had he eaten anything home cooked? What about the laundry? Henry sighed and got out of his car.
He knocked before pushing the apartment door open. It was clean — recently mopped by the smell of it.
Hans stood awkwardly in the living room, and Henry felt his heart pick up. He wanted nothing more than to rush forward, scoop Hans into his arms, and kiss him until the holes in his heart disappeared.
"You wanted to talk?"
"Yes. Please, sit." Hans sat stiffly on their couch, and Henry followed suit.
"I've uh…" Hans swallowed and ruffled his hair.
"You can take your time," Henry said gently.
"Stop." Hans looked at him, stricken, "Stop that. You're too nice, Henry. You're too nice to me."
"What?"
"You never hold me accountable. You put up with every selfish whim I have." Hans flushed. "I take advantage without fully realizing how cruel I'm being until you snap under the pressure of me."
"Hans, I just—"
"No, no, let me finish." Hans wipes at his eyes, brilliant blue misting slightly. "I'm awful I know. I push and push and push because I'm a selfish asshole." Henry opens his mouth, but shuts it when Hans frowned.
"I have so much to apologize for and explain."
"You have a list or something?" Henry aims for a joke— anything to lighten the mood.
"Yes, I…circling back to our last argument." Hans says as he sits up straighter. Henry can easily imagine him in a meeting room. "The reason I don't want you to hang out with your friends without me? It's because I was terrified they'd tell you how bad I am for you. Why it seems I don't like them? Because I was trying so hard to make sure they didn't notice our cracks. The reason I don't want you to meet my work friends? Because I'm not like you. Not even close."
"What do you mean you're not like me?"
"I'm not gay."
"Neither am I? Even if we were there's nothi—"
"I'm not confident like you and Sam. I know there's nothing wrong with it, I know that. I'm just not comfortable like you." Hans reached out, his sweaty shaking hand squeezing Henry's tightly. "I'm…I'm trying to work on it, but at work, well I'm not entirely there yet."
"Oh." Henry swallowed, "wait…they don't know about us? You're not out to them? Who do they think you've been living with for the past six years? Do they think you live with some woman or do they think we're just roomates? Do they think that you're single? Is this why you're out so often? Because they set you up on dates?!" The pain grew with each realization.
Hans looked at him like Henry had punched. Henry felt his heart crack. Somehow, of all the things they'd ever been through, this hurt the most. He hated secrets — hated hiding important things. Like other children, like other fathers. Whole lives hidden away. It felt like he'd been denied the right to exist at Hans' side. Henry tried to pull away, tried to stand.
"No!" Hans pulled him back. "No, Henry, I'm not out, but I decline anytime they try to set me up. I tell them I have too much on my plate. That's not important right now. I want to be better for you." Hans held on tighter. "Please Henry. I am not ashamed of you, I'm not ashamed of us. I'm scared."
"Of what?!"
"I don't even know." Hans let out a shuddering gasp, and then he's crying, pressed against Henry's arm. Big, wretched sobs — almost wailing — and Henry felt the fight drain out of him. He wrapped his arms around Hans let him press into his chest. Hans never really cried like this. Not like Henry. But he knew Hanush hadn't raised him gently the way Radzig had raised Henry. Henry was born strong, with a soft heart. Hans had always felt like he was made of bird bones around a metal heart — fragile, light, and unyielding in a way Henry couldn't fathom.
Yet here Hans was, showing his underbelly for once. Henry's own eyes, for once, dry.
"The reason I'm out late sometimes is because I'm in therapy," Hans said once he exhausted himself. He rested heavily against Henry's side. "I learned to be selfish at an early age. My uncle gave me everything I wanted because I was his dead brother's kid, but he also didn't like it when I cried. Not his fault— he didn't know what to do. So when I felt like crying, I…just acted more selfish."
"Henry, you were allowed to cry. You weren't selfish— if anything you were selfless. That made me angry for a long time, but I had to keep being your friend because I found you facinating. Then I became selfish with you too. The reason I kissed you first, back when we were seventeen, was because I heard Bianca was going to ask you out and I couldn't stomach it."
"I'm not sure when the line shifted from being selfish with you to being cruel. I don't know when I became scared to be myself outside of us. I think part of it was I wanted to keep you safe— I wanted to keep you mine, only looking at me— and I twisted it." Hans sighed, Henry held him a little tighter.
"My therapist is named Jitka." Hans swallows, "Your dad…suggested the practice she works for."
"My dad knew?"
"I lied to him. I told him someone at work had asked, so I asked him which practice you and Sam had been sent to, and whether they handled certain types of therapy." Hans took another shuddering breath. "Told him one of my subordinates was being borderline abusive to his spouse and I wanted to help."
"Spouse? You think of me like that?"
"Just like you to skip the part where I said I was being abusive."
"You never hit me," Henry said, frowning.
"Abuse isn't just physical. Clearly you never listened to Sam all those times he yelled and screamed at you while picking me up— all those fights because of me."
"Well," Henry said, scratching at his nose, "half the time me and Sam fight is because he's… well, Sam. He's a bitch, but he's my brother, so….we've been fighting since we met. Remember the day after he came home? You asked me how I got a black eye? It's because I tackled him over the table and tried to kick his ass because he said what I already knew."
"What did he say?"
"That my dad was dead. Our dad was dead. We were two orphans together —except we weren't, because Radzig was there, yanking us apart." Hans snorted, it felt easy again.
They lapsed into silence, Hans stopped clinging to him so tightly.
"So now what?" Henry asked at last.
"It depends."
"On what?"
"On you. On me. On us?" Henry hummed.
"Are we breaking up?" He asked, and Hans' breath hitched.
"I don't want that. But know I've been unfair to you." He swallows, "I think I need more time."
"Take all the time you need."
—
Henry smoothed his hands down his suit again, before reaching up to fiddle with his bow tie.
"Leave it!" Sam snapped, he walked over smacking Henry's hands away. "You're going to mess it up."
"I'm nervous! Don't act like you weren't a mess when you and Jon got married."
"I was not, I'm stoic, always calm, cool, and collected."
"You had a breakdown and locked yourself in the closet crying until Radzig talked you into not cancelling your wedding."
"I don't remember that, clearly your wedding jitters have you making up shit." Sam finished adjusting Henry's bow tie again, he fixed Henry's pocket square.
"He better make you happy." Henry smiled, Sam kept fiddling with the square, "If he starts acting like an asshole you call me and I will take a baseball bat to his car."
"Sam."
"I mean it Henry, I meant it."
"I know you do." Henry pulled Sam into a tight hug. "I'll tell you when I need you to come slash his tires, I promise." There was a soft knock and Radzig peeked in.
"It's time, Henry." Sam gave him one last squeeze before rushing off to get to his best man post. Radzig walked next to him as they made their way to the door. "Are you ready?"
"Yes."
"Good." Radzig sniffed taking his arm, "You're always welcome back home." Henry snorted.
"Both of you need to stop acting like I'm going to end up divorced." Henry took a deep breath. "I think we're solid now, even footing and all that."
"I know, I can see it."
"Thanks, dad. You did a good job."
"I only ever followed in their footsteps, to raise you like they would have, they're both watching." Henry bit his lip. "Now let's go in."
The door opened wide. Henry saw Hans, and it was like he was seeing for the first time again. Hans stood in his bright white suit.The sun illuminated the gold of his hair, the blue of his eyes, like the never ending sky.