Moving into the Nest

Chapter 1. The happiness of one's own nest

On the eve of his and Monty's two-month anniversary Henry still could not believe his luck. Each day was filled with happiness that at times reached such blissful heights that it overwhelmed him. But Monty's flat was too small for two men, as much as they loved to cuddle together. And now, after lots of searching, they had found a little house all for themselves, on West 20th Street, a bit closer to the Bowery, which Monty used to frequent not long ago for drinks, entertainment and nights with fellow fairies.

Currently both Monty and Henry were overseeing the movers bringing in their things. While Monty's share had been small and easy, with most of his things remaining at his parents' apartment, Henry looked self-conscious as the men carried in yet another boxful of books.

"I, erm, I'd forgotten how many I actually had," he murmured to Monty. "I already donated a fair amount to the library but-" He cut himself short as he saw his phonograph about to be dropped on a table and rushed forward in panic. "Careful with that!"

Monty looked at Henry with the ever growing amusement, although he, too, got worried about the phonograph for a moment. When Henry took the apparatus and placed it on the table himself, with utmost care, Monty chuckled and shifted his attention to one of the men.

"Um, this goes into the drawing room, over there," he directed after checking what was in the box.

Just saying "drawing room" made him smile more. Finally, a proper house, with a proper amount of rooms! Before meeting Henry, Monty hardly cared about where he lived. He had a good room at his parents', and during his escapes all he needed was a comfortable bed, preferably fit for two people. The previous flat was perfect for his short stays between his adventures around New York. But, once Henry moved in, Monty started to spend more time at home, and it soon became clear that the little place wasn't enough for them. And there were neighbours in every other flat, of course.

Admiring their new home, Monty took a deep, content breath, knowing that now they were going to live in their own, nice house, without having to worry about anybody. A small, but cosy-looking kitchen with an old-fashioned stove, an empty drawing room and a dining room occupied the ground floor. Upstairs, there was a library, a bathroom with a big tub, which helped the two lovers decide on buying this house, and two bedrooms. One was doomed to be empty, but maybe they'd find a use for it later, Monty thought.

He made his way through a small corridor of boxes to approach Henry and looked at the phonograph, as if it was a pet.

"Is it all right?" he asked quietly, placing his hand on Henry's shoulder for a second – until a mover passed by to grab another box.

Henry gently worked the handle of the machine before stepping back, his heart rate returning to normal. "No harm done, though I dread to think. It's been with me so long and on my travels... imagine the irony of it meeting its demise during something mundane like a move!" His eyes were full of affection when he turned round to look at Monty. "Thank you for worrying about it, too."

"I would hate for it to break, it's so important to you!" Monty smiled, but then quickly turned to the front door where one of the movers announced that they were done. "Ah, great!" Monty reacted, feeling a relief from knowing that they would be left alone soon.

Once the workers, generously tipped, left, Monty returned to Henry with an excited grin. "I can't believe it, Henry!" He looked around again, trying to comprehend that this was where they were going to live from now on. Overcome with happiness, he kissed Henry passionately, wrapping both arms around him. "Congratulations," he whispered.

"To both of us," Henry whispered back before quickly resuming their kiss and pulling Monty closer, relishing the fact that they were alone at last. They had been unable to get close to each other all day, having gotten up early for the move and just finishing a quick breakfast before the workmen had arrived at their old flat. Eventually, he let Monty go, though still with his hands placed about his waist. "At last, Monty. No more interruptions or nosy neighbours."

"Now, isn't this heaven?" Monty, in turn, rested his head on Henry's chest, but, before he closed his eyes, he caught a glimpse of boxes and raised his head. "I suppose we should start unpacking... At least some boxes. I suspect half of these are your little library." Monty gave Henry a teasing look. "Good job my library is rather modest. Where should we start?" He turned to face the boxes that were still in the hallway, his hands on the hips. "I had no idea we had so many things..."

"First, cups and the kettle, I'm dying for a cup of coffee." Not noticing Monty's little grimace upon the mention of coffee, Henry went straight to one of the smaller boxes and sifted through the contents. "And I'll make tea, of course, too, for my cheeky lawyer," he smiled back at Monty who still had his hands on his hips. "That's a very good look, by the way. Very aesthetic."

"Oh?" Monty smirked and posed for Henry playfully. His lover's laughter warmed his heart. "Aesthetic!" He looked down at himself, then back at Henry. "I think you forgot one word, Professor: 'little'!"

"I didn't want to bring it up, but since you mentioned it yourself, my dear Mr Fitzgerald..." Heading to the kitchen, Henry lightly brushed his free hand against Monty's backside as he passed him. Monty did not mind either "little" or that cheeky pat. Truly a man transformed by love.

Everything in the kitchen seemed big and nice, from the stove to the pantry. Even tea, coffee, and biscuits, located after some frustrated searching through several boxes, tasted better than one day before. By the time the lovers finished their little break, they had decided which bedroom they would sleep in, where they should move the bed, and when they would eat in the kitchen and when in the dining room, rather big for the two of them.

Henry said that it was like a little honeymoon, and perhaps it was. Monty couldn't imagine even thinking about work, let alone being away from Henry, moreso now that the semester was over.

"But let us have our little honeymoon for now," Monty decided, putting his cup down. "We've been waiting for it, and you need a couple of weeks' rest. To a certain extent, mind you." He arched an eyebrow knowingly and leaned to Henry to whisper with a smirk, looking into his eyes, "I can't wait to check the bed. So, try to not exhaust yourself too much this evening, all right?"

Henry gulped a little, looking down at Monty's lips which were tantalisingly close to his. It was unbelievable how he could turn from playful to sultry in the blink of an eye. Even all these weeks in, Henry kept on getting wrong-footed in the most exquisite way possible and he hoped Monty would never stop. "I'll - erm - try," he said, eyes still fixed on Monty's mouth which widened into a grin.

"Good! I'll help you as much as I can, I promise." Placing his hand on the back of Henry's neck, Monty drew him in for a kiss, his fingers, as usual, sliding up to Henry's soft hair. Once he got his fix, he admired the flushed face of his lover and stood up as if nothing happened. "Right, I think we should get unpacking now..."

With a promise not to tire themselves out, they decided to split the work. Monty was the first to approach the mount of boxes, humming softly. At first, Henry simply stood there as he listened to Monty humming. He did it so very often these days – not that Henry minded or counted the times that he did – it was a sure sign that he was happy. And when Monty was happy, so was Henry. Smiling to himself, Henry began to tackle the boxes in front of him, which were full of his books and the occasional old shirt which he'd used to wrap up the more fragile volumes.