April Fool

On Tuesdays, John works the night shift. It isn’t ideal, but it’s the reality for a future doctor in his last year of residency. Nobody in their right mind wants the night shifts. But John can deal. He’s almost through with this. Only a few more months to go, and then he can start the process of becoming licensed. He’s already registered for the first exam – it’s some time in November, he’s pretty sure. But he could be totally wrong, because John isn’t one to pay much attention to the calendar. His days are almost always blending together, anyway.

He’s walking home early Wednesday morning when he gets a text from Alex. At first, John smiles when he sees his boyfriend’s name pop up in his notifications, because he hasn’t spoken to him since before he left for work yesterday afternoon. But then he remembers – Alex should be at work and not on his phone, so hearing from him now is a bit of a red flag.

‘8:43am: home soon?’ is all Alex wrote and John can’t really decipher it. More than likely, Alex just stayed home sick or something and needs John to pick him up meds or food. So John texts him back, tells him he’ll be home in ten minutes, and waits for the inevitably long list of things Alex needs him to pick up.

It never comes though, and by the time John is unlocking the door to their shared apartment in Lenox Hill, he’s already anticipating to be met with a disaster.

But everything is exactly the same as it always is. The living room is empty, save for Alex's sneakers by the coffee table and his laptop on the couch. The laundry bag is sitting by the door, waiting for one of them to stop being so lazy and actually go do laundry. The door to the kitchen is closed and John can see the blue paint handprint that Alex left there when they first got the apartment and he was unaware of the fact that he had paint all over his hands.

Normal. Except for the distinct sniffling noise he can hear coming from the kitchen. That is far from normal.

"Alex? Are you alright?" John asks out loud as he heads for the kitchen door. He pushes it open as he gets no verbal response, only to find Alex at the kitchen table, head in his hands and shoulders shaking. "What - Alex? What's going on?"

There are a million things that run through John's head as he asks that - a million things that could possibly be wrong enough to make Alex cry like this. But none of them make sense because when he left yesterday, everything was perfectly fine. So he's at a complete loss as he sits down in the chair next to his sobbing boyfriend and tries his best to be comforting when he doesn't know what for.

"Honestly, Alex - talk to me," he begs, pulling Alex's hands away from his face. Alex's eyes are red, like he's been doing this for hours now. "What the hell is going on? Why aren't you at work?"

Alex looks, if possible, even more upset at those words. He focuses on the table and mumbles, "I was at work," barely loud enough for John to hear.

"And?"

"They- I got fired," he spits out, hands coming right back up to hide his face as he cries even harder now that the words are out.

John is stunned, and for a few moments, he literally has no words. Fired? Alex? It just doesn't compute.

Alex doesn't seem to care for his silence, deciding to replace it with his own voice as he explains himself a little further. "I was just - I was working on one of the accounts and figuring something out for preview week when my boss just - you know how he is," Alex sniffles, waving his hand in a way that tells John he's not going to say anything else.

John sits there for a few quick seconds, composes his thoughts and then finally decides to ask, "Was it...was it because of that um. Prank you pulled on Zack last week?"

"What? No," Alex mumbles, "He told me my performance isn't up to standards- I work my ass off, John! I get so many clients for them! How the hell can they fire me?"

John blinks, tries to think of something comforting to say. But he's really just trying to put all of this together in his head. Alex losing his job is not ideal. It's so far from ideal. Yes, John makes good money, but Alex's contribution to their bank accounts is pretty fucking important. Suddenly he's trying to figure out all the bills they have to pay and how they're going to pay them with only John's salary and he looks up at the fridge at their mini calendar and that's when it all suddenly becomes very clear to him.

It's April first.

It's April Fools Day.

The son of a bitch.

"Don't worry, baby," John says quickly, reaching forward and pulling Alex sideways into his arms. "Don't even worry about it. You must be so exhausted," he tells him, "Let's get you into bed and I'll go grab something for breakfast and we can rent a movie and we can talk about all of this, okay?"

Alex slumps against him and sighs, nodding in agreement and John wants to strangle him. He just gave him a minor heart attack and thinks he's getting away with it. But John will keep up with the fake sickly sweet reassurances and coddling because he has his own plan. Alex is going to regret this.

A half hour later, John leaves the apartment again, Alex under the impression that he's going to get bagels and will be back in minutes. But really, John walks around the block a few times, grabs a coffee, checks out all the new magazine issues at the newsstand by their apartment building, and then finally goes back upstairs, without any bagels.

The TV is still on, blasting through the apartment so loud that John's pretty certain Alex can't even hear the door slam shut. He doesn't bother kicking off his shoes, does his best to look distressed and upset, and heads into their bedroom. He finds Alex still there, all comfortable and relaxed under the blankets and looking at John expectantly.

"Where are the bagels?" He asks, "And why are your eyebrows so angry?"

"I did something stupid," he says softly, climbing up onto their bed, sitting back on his knees with wide eyes and watching as it starts to dawn on Alex that maybe he should be less concerned about bagels and more concerned about his boyfriend.

"What did you do?"

"Don't be mad," John pleads, and he wants to slap himself for sounding so pathetic. "I just - I was so upset over what a total dick your boss is and I-"

Alex catches on much faster than John expected. He sits up and grabs John's arm and tightens his fingers around it. "John - what the fuck did you do."

John looks down at the sheets on the bed and mumbles, "I went to see your boss. And said some things. He didn't exactly like what I had to say-"

"No - John, tell me you're lying," Alex cries, collapsing back into his pillows so dramatically that John thinks maybe it's Oscar worthy. "No, no, no - John what the fuck-"

"You don't deserve to be treated like that!" John yells back, watching Alex try and suffocate himself with a spare pillow. It's comical now. In fact, now John is grinning. "I found it hard to believe he had good reasoning for just firing you like that!"

"Oh my God," is all Alex says and John just sits back and watches as his whole April Fools plan falls apart. "John - I have to tell you-"

John finally takes pity on him, shuffles forward so he's sitting on Alex's legs. He laughs as he pulls the pillow off his face and tells him, "You're a fucking moron and I hate you. April fools, you asshole."

"No!" Alex shouts, eyes wide as he realizes what's happened. "Come on!"

"I cannot believe you tried to give me a heart attack for no reason."

"I was just trying to be funny! You're the one who had to be an ass and ruin all the fun!" Alex rolls over onto his stomach, shoving John off his legs. "I hate your guts right now," he mumbles. "I really thought you went to yell at my boss."

John sighs and lays down beside him, giving him barely any space to himself. "Honestly if I were your boss I would have fired you a long time ago. Saran Wrap on the toilet seat is only funny the first time you do it to someone, you know."

"I'm a comedic genius. I make everyone laugh," Alex disagrees, curling into John's side. "You're just jealous you have to work with stuck up doctors who aren't nearly as entertaining as I am."

“Oh, sorry we’re too busy saving lives to be immature-”

Alex shifts around on the bed, making himself more comfortable and pulling the sheets back up over himself. He curls up with the remote in his hands and looks at John with one eye open. “You win April Fools day. Happy now?”

John shrugs. “I’ll take it.”