Work Text:
Rio, Aug 2016
“You got this,” Alex tells his reflection. “It’s just like a lacrosse tournament—only bigger, and you aren’t even playing. With other sports. You’ll be fine.”
(If he repeats it enough it’ll become true, right? Is this ‘manifesting?’)
He leans closer, gripping the sink in front of him for support and tries to will his anxiety away—like that has ever worked. As he’s about to repeat his mantra of fine-ness again, a loud sniffle echoes off the tile from one of the stalls. If Alex had been in the mindset to think about it, the presence of security outside the VIP bathroom would have signalled that someone was already in here. But he was a little too focused on remembering how to breathe and behave normally under so many eyes that he didn’t clock them until now.
“Hello?” Alex calls tentatively into the silence that follows.
“I don’t suppose I could persuade you to just… pretend you never heard anything and go about your day?”
The voice that comes from the last stall sounds young. And he’s British. That should probably be less of a surprise for Alex given that they’re at an international event, but something about the accent throws him for a loop. But it’s the wavering quality of the words that has Alex shoving aside his own worries and shifting into ‘Mom-Friend’ mode.
“You okay?”
There’s a beat of perfect silence, like whoever it is is hoping Alex will give up—unlikely—before he sighs exasperatedly. “Do I sound bloody okay?”
“I mean you sound like shit, dude, that’s why I asked,” Alex can’t help but snipe back. Hopefully whoever this guy is doesn’t break down at the first sign of snark—Alex doesn’t really know how to turn it off.
“Right. Well. My dad died a year ago. And he loved the Olympics.”
“Fuck, that’s awful.” Alex leans against the wall and settles in, trying not to mess up his painstakingly chosen-for-him outfit. He’s not going anywhere until Important British Guy comes out of the stall.
“It is. Thank you for not giving me your ‘condolences,’ I’ve had enough for a lifetime.”
“I got real tired of sympathy when my parents’ split. I can’t imagine how much worse it is when a parent dies. And then the public reaction on top of that? Full yikes.”
The guy in the stall manages a watery laugh and Alex awards himself a mental point.
“You’ve hit the nail on the head. If one more stranger comes up to me and says what a ‘tragic loss it’s been for all of us,’ I may lose it completely.” The possibilities of just who is hiding in this bathroom narrow and Alex decides to risk it.
“You’re so valid for that, Henry.”
“How did you—”
Alex ticks the clues off one by one on his fingers. “Young British guy, VIP bathroom, security posted outside, and a recently-dead, internationally beloved father. I took an educated guess.” Part of the lecture about behavior at the Olympics filters back to him, and Alex cringes in anticipation of Zahra’s expression if she ever finds out about this. “Oh shit, I’m supposed to use your title first, right? Sorry.”
“It’s alright,” Henry says. “It was nice being Henry first and The Prince second, for once.”
The lock on the stall slides back and His Royal Highness Prince Henry steps out, looking far more put together than Alex would be if he’d recently been crying. How is that fair? He shakes his head in disbelief, but stretches out his hand. “Well then, Henry. I’m Alex—”
Henry looks at Alex’s face for the first time and freezes, eyes widening almost imperceptibly.
“Claremont-Diaz,” Henry finishes softly. He hesitates, but ultimately takes Alex’s hand and shakes it. It’s a nice handshake; there’s no masculine-proving tightness or sweaty, limp reluctance. Henry’s hand is soft and warm and wraps around Alex’s like they’re two halves of a whole. Huh.
Alex lets the strange thought fade to the background as he releases Henry’s hand and raises his brows. “I thought the Royal Family wasn’t supposed to be involved in politics?”
“We aren’t allowed to have a public opinion, no. But I do watch the news,” Henry’s lip twitches, almost into a smile. “Your mother seems to be one of the best candidates The States’ have had in a while.”
“She’s gonna be amazing,” Alex says proudly. It’s still months till November, but there’s no way she isn’t going to be elected President.
Henry steps nimbly around Alex to splash some water on his face and fuss with his tie. Now that Henry seems steadier, Alex’s anxiety starts to creep back in and he takes a couple deep breaths as quietly as he can, not wanting Henry to notice.
“Are you quite alright?”
Alex almost lies his ass off, almost tells Henry he’s totally fine and confident, but—Henry was just honest and vulnerable with him. And if he can’t confess to someone who probably actually understands what Alex is feeling, who can he confess to?
“I’m nervous as fuck,” he admits. “This is my first international event, and I don’t want to fuck it up. Normally I’m good with crowds and connecting with people, but shit there’s a lot of them and cameras and I’m eighteen, y’know?”
Henry’s face does something that makes Alex’s chest twinge in sympathy. “I do know.” The guy in front of him has had more experience being a public figure than most actors. “Try to remember that the cameras only see what’s on the surface—they can’t see what’s in your heart.”
“That’s cheesy as fuck, Henry,” Alex says, but he’s smiling now and he’s pretty sure Henry looks pleased by the development. “Got any practical tips?” he asks. “Not that I don’t appreciate the greeting card platitude.”
Henry cocks his head, assessing. “Have you seen The Princess Diaries?”
“You mean the cinematic masterpiece starring Our Lord and Savior Dame Julie Andrews?”
Henry actually chuckles at that and Alex swells with pride. “Well Queen Clarice’s advice is sound: shoulders back, and think tall. However difficult that might be for you.”
“Fuck you, too,” Alex protests. “Five-nine is perfectly respectable, thank you very much.” Not everyone can be a fucking skyscraper.
Henry raises a single eyebrow. “Five-nine?”
“Shut up,” Alex huffs. “Thanks, though. I feel better.” Henry nods and an easy silence falls that Alex doesn’t feel the need to fill for once.
“You’re lucky you aren’t Royal, you know,” Henry says suddenly.
“Hmm?”
Henry pauses near the door. “You’re allowed to show emotions besides polite interest or stoic intent.”
“You should give me your phone number,” Alex blurts out.
“Why?”
“So we can text each other, obviously. Since we’re friends now.”
“Oh.” The surprise Henry can’t quite hide at the declaration of friendship makes Alex a little bit furious and a lot sad. If you aren’t friends after mutually confessing feelings in a public bathroom, you’re doing friendship wrong. “It seems I’m a magnet for people deciding they’re my friend after a single conversation.”
“We’re the best kind of people,” Alex agrees as they exchange phones.
“It’s a two-nickel situation to be sure,” Henry grins as he types. “It really is a pity Pez isn’t here, I believe you’d get along swimmingly.”
“I have at least three follow up questions.”
“You can text them to me. Or ask after the Diving finals, when we’re supposed to meet ‘officially,’” Henry says, leaving the bathroom before Alex can say another word. He opens up a new text without thinking about it.
AGCD: how dare you just leave like that we are FRIENDS
AGCD: boudia and johnson will avenge me
HRH Prince Dickhead 💩: I have two words for you. Tom. Daley.
HRH Prince Dickhead 💩: See you after we win.
AGCD: i’m GLAD we revolted actually
AGCD: see ya
London — August 2016
Hazza: Category 5. SOS
Auntie Pez: Really? Because last time you called a Cat 5 he turned out to be a 2 AT MOST
Hazza: Image search Alex Claremont-Diaz, then you tell me.
Auntie Pez: Respectfully Henry, my delightful little succulent, you are fucked.
Auntie Pez: I can call you in 5mins?
Hazza: Please.
Austin — November 2016
HRH Prince Dickhead 💩: Have you even been to sleep yet?
AGCD: FUCK NO
AGCD: STILL PARTYING IN TRIUMPH
HRH Prince Dickhead 💩:You should probably attempt to sleep at some point soon, you’ve been up for almost 24 hours.
AGCD: MY MOM’S OFFICIALLY GONNA BE THE PRESIDENT I’LL SLEEP LATER
HRH Prince Dickhead 💩:Congratulations, again. Let the countdown to January 20th commence.
AGCD: WAY AHEAD OF YOU
AGCD: [screencap of countdown clock]
Washington, DC — September 2017
AGCD: do you ever get overwhelmed by how gorgeous someone is or am i the weird one?
HRH Prince Dickhead 💩: You’re not weird. (Not about that, at any rate.)
AGCD: 🖕
AGCD: seriously
AGCD: i was rewatching pirates of the caribbean and had to like
AGCD: have a moment about kiera knightley
HRH Prince Dickhead 💩: I can’t say I relate in regards to that particular actress, although she is very talented as Elizbeth Bennet.
AGCD: young zoe saldana fan then?
HRH Prince Dickhead 💩: Not as such.
AGCD: bc i refuse to believe you can see pirates without falling in love with kiera in that esp when she gets to be all badass to save will turner
HRH Prince Dickhead 💩: I can assure you I have never been infatuated with Kiera Knightley in that way.
AGCD: i call bullshit
HRH Prince Dickhead 💩: You can’t call bullshit on my lived experience, Alex.
AGCD: i can and i will
AGCD: just like with your incorrect star wars opinions
AGCD: there must be some actor you’d like to get into that fancy bed of yours
AGCD: H? You there?
AGCD: Henry?
AGCD: i can see you typing H just spit it out.
HRH Prince Dickhead 💩: Let’s just say that there are any number of actors I’ve fancied over the years. Visiting sets with my father was something of a minefield when I first hit puberty.
AGCD: oh yeah bond girls, makes sense
AGCD: wait wouldn’t that be weird watching them kiss your dad on screen?
HRH Prince Dickhead 💩: Alex, I say this with all affection for you and our friendship: you are an utter knob.
AGCD: what?
HRH Prince Dickhead 💩: I am not into any of the Bond girls or Kiera Knightley. Or any actress.
HRH Prince Dickhead 💩: If I tell you that if I were watching Pirates of the Caribbean, I would be wholly focused on Orlando Bloom, does that help?
AGCD: i mean that man does a pretty sweet sword fight no matter what movie he’s in.
AGCD: hey is it weird to you that he basically hasn’t aged between LOTR and the hobbit trilogy?
AGCD: or that if he has he only looks better?
HRH Prince Dickhead 💩: I am very deeply gay, Alex.
AGCD: oh
AGCD: OH
AGCD: wow i am a dumbass
AGCD: thanks for telling me tho
HRH Prince Dickhead 💩: You’re the first person outside of my family I’ve told, actually.
AGCD: holy shit
AGCD: i’m honored H
AGCD: wait not even Pez?
HRH Prince Dickhead 💩: I didn’t actually have to come out to Pez. He found out on his own and told me he knew after a month of living together in uni.
AGCD: deets H. i sense deets
HRH Prince Dickhead 💩: Unfortunately for you, I simply shall not be sharing them.
AGCD: rookie mistake, now i know deets exist
AGCD: tell me
AGCD: tell me
AGCD: tell me
AGCD: tell me
AGCD: tell me
HRH Prince Dickhead 💩: No.
AGCD: 💩💩💩💩💩
AGCD: i’ll get it out of you eventually
HRH Prince Dickhead 💩: Stronger men than you have tried.
AGCD: yeah but i have staying power baybeee
HRH Prince Dickhead 💩: Why are you the way that you are?
AGCD: June says i was dropped on my head as a child but 🤷
AGCD: i prefer to think of it as natural charm
Washington, DC — September 2017
AGCD: the universe has provided 🙌
AGCD: or big brother is more powerful than i thought
HRH Prince Dickhead 💩: Oh?
AGCD: there’s a bond marathon on tonight
AGCD: your dad was a total babe
HRH Prince Dickhead 💩: I beg you to not.
Washington, DC — October 2017
once and future dumbass: numbers on me being into dudes?
irl chaos demon: 78% chance of latent bisexual tendencies
irl chaos demon: 100% this is not hypothetical
once and future dumbass: …
once and future dumbass: it really isn’t
irl chaos demon: call me right now i need all the data
Washington, DC — March 2018
Ayyyy: seriously
Ayyyy: what do i have to do to get you to tell me the story how you met Henry
Ayyyy: i must know
Pez: Get used to disappointment
Ayyyy: June’s phone number?
Pez: Tempting…
Pez: But no.
Ayyyy: 😞
HRH Prince Dickhead 💩: Alex, I’m literally in this chat.
Ayyyy: sry not sry
Washington, DC — June 2018
Alex: you free rn?
Prince Burberry: Technically. 📉
Alex: anything i can do?
Prince Burberry: Not unless you can bring my dad back to life.
Alex: fuck that’s today isn’t it
Alex: i would if i could Henry
Prince Burberry: I know.
Alex: want me to distract you?
Prince Burberry: Can you just do that thing where you ramble about your life without expecting me to answer or participate in any way?
Outgoing call to Prince Burberry
HRHBFFF: Thank you, Alex.
Alex: 👍
Alex: anytime
Washington, DC — December 2018
Alex: merry christmas to my parents
Alex: their gift is zero straight children
Alex: at least my coming out distracted them from fighting like they always do
Alex: i’m bi by the by
HRHBFFF: You’re a menace to society is what you are. (I’m glad you told me.)
Alex: you love me anyway
Alex: (no one else i’d rather tell)
HRHBFFF: Unfortunately true.
HRHBFFF: Are you coming to Philip’s wedding?
Alex: yeah
Alex: is it gonna be as awful and boring as i think it's going to be?
HRHBFFF: Probably worse, honestly. At least you don’t have to be part of the ceremony.
Alex: tracks
Alex: at least we’ll get to hang out during the reception
Alex: it's actually bonkers how our schedules haven’t lined up to allow that since rio
Alex: its like someone was trying to prevent us being in the same room
HRHBFFF: Strange indeed.
HRHBFFF: Whoever is responsible shall be thrown in The Tower in due course.
Alex: weird flex but okay
HRHBFFF: I’m being called into a meeting. Speak later?
Alex: on christmas?
HRHBFFF: The Firm doesn’t care about holidays.
Alex: just call me when you’re free, it’s not like i have anything else going on today other than eating my weight in charcuterie
HRHBFFF: How dare you flaunt that.
Alex: 👼
London — September 2019
Alex knows a lot of words, okay? He got a 2350 on his SATs and was the kind of brother that sat with June and suggested letters while she read the dictionary for fun.
So it's just really terrible that his first sight of Henry (his first in-person view since the Olympics) at Prince Philip’s wedding—tux, stupid sash, floppy blond hair unfortunately tamed by gel—is enough to knock all the words from Alex’s brain except:
Oh and fuck.
London — September 2019
irl chaos demon: we left you alone for 5 MINUTES
irl chaos demon: HOW did you fuck up so badly
bug: It’s almost impressive.
irl chaos demon: zee is going to have your balls
irl chaos demon: actually she’s probably going to use your body for a stew
irl chaos demon: it was nice knowing you
irl chaos demon: can i have your stuff?
once and future dumbass: helpful thanks
once and future dumbass: and no
once and future dumbass: you don’t even like my stuff
irl chaos demon: yeah but ebay is a thing
bug: I wrote your eulogy btw. There’s three separate cake puns.
once and future dumbass: you’re the worst people i’ve ever met
irl chaos demon: you spelled best wrong
London — September 2019
Alex should be asleep right now.
It’s been the Longest Day Ever trying to get the White House and the Palace to agree on a path forward after Philip’s wedding. The amount of side eye he received (both digital and physical) for his part in The Incident was completely unwarranted. It’s not like he went into the reception with the intent of knocking over a $75,000 cake.
And he still maintains it was at least fifty percent Henry’s fault by volume—no one has any right to be that fucking beautiful and also care about Alex’s feelings and class schedule and his mother’s upcoming re-election and well—
Alex was just fundamentally un-fucking-prepared for what the sight of his best friend in formal wear, smiling at him, would do to his poor bisexual heart. How could anyone be expected to function properly in the face of all that? Alex is clumsy on a good day. On a day when he was already nervous about representing the First Family, excited to see Henry again, and had too much pent up energy after the never-ending ceremony? Alex never had a chance, even before Henry had beckoned him over to where he was standing near the cake.
He’s still not exactly sure what happened, all he knows is one minute he was walking toward Henry and the next they were both on the floor covered in buttercream.
At least Zahra could only yell at via video chat. He can only imagine the damage she would have inflicted upon him had they been in the same space. And at least the powers that be agreed that there wasn’t any point to Alex flying back to DC only to have to turn right back around again for an apology tour with Henry, so as much as Zahra wanted to bury him in the ground, she’ll have to wait till he’s back on American soil to do so. He still has a chance she’ll be too busy with something else.
Now all Alex has to do is get through tomorrow’s agenda with Henry without fucking anything else up. A tall order, one that is bound to be almost impossible while Alex is still wrestling with his own obliviousness to the fact that he’s completely ass over head for his best friend. Who lives across an ocean. And is a man. And a prince.
Thank fucking Christ he already figured out he’s bi.
So, he should be asleep right now, given the early as fuck morning show the pair of them have been booked on. He should be tucked in one of the billion guest rooms counting electoral college delegates to help him drift off. But instead he’s in a quiet guest kitchen larger than his bedroom at the White House, a mug of hot chocolate in front of him, wide awake.
“Couldn’t sleep?”
Alex whirls around at the sound of Henry’s voice, heart racing. “I should get you a bell, fucking shit, H.”
“Apologies, I just came for the Cornettos—mine’s out, but I knew they’d stock up the guest kitchen.”
“Just can’t help invading foreign lands, huh?” Alex teases, trying valiantly to act normally.
He wasn’t prepared to see Henry again till the morning. And he certainly wasn’t prepared to see him all soft and cozy-looking in his pajamas and robe thing, looking at Alex fondly. Just when Alex thinks he’s got a handle on himself, Henry bends over to retrieve his ice cream from the freezer and Alex chokes on his drink.
Turns out listing off Senate committees works to bring down his sudden semi—his equivalent to baseball stats. Good thing, too; Alex doesn’t know shit about baseball. Despite it being “America’s Game” or whatever, baseball is boring as fuck.
Henry, oblivious to Alex’s inner (and physical) turmoil, just chuckles and straightens up, blue cardboard box in hand. “I think you’ll find you’re the invader this time around.”
“Is it invading if you’re invited?”
“Can you call it an invitation if it’s an order from on high?” And fuck Henry for being able to raise a single eyebrow.
Alex narrows his eyes. “Please tell me you’re not calling the Queen a holy being right now.”
Henry sniffs. “I was referring to Ms. Bankston, actually.”
“You— Actually, that’s fair.”
Henry settles catty-corner to Alex at the island, pulls out a paper wrapped cone, and then nudges the box towards Alex. “You should have one, too. If you’re still up anyways, might as well lean in.”
Alex unwraps his knock-off Drumstick and tips the cone into Henry’s like a champagne flute. “Cheers to the International Insomnia Club.”
Henry huffs a laugh and starts to eat, leaving Alex to try to eat his own while not staring too obviously at Henry's mouth. He’s about seventy percent successful.
“Alex?”
He startles out of his daze and makes an inquiring noise around his own mouthful of ice cream.
“I asked if there was something in particular keeping you awake?” It’s a question Henry’s asked him countless times before. Neither of them are what could be called ‘champion sleepers’ between Henry’s insomnia and Alex’s…everything. They’ve spent many a late night on the phone, talking quietly about their lives, their families, their fears, their dreams—anything that comes to mind.
And the thing is, Alex could tell him what’s keeping him up lately. Could treat this like every other thing that comes up in those liminal hours between midnight and dawn. Could be brave and confess everything right now.
Alex knows he’s good looking, knows that Henry thinks he’s good looking, even—it’s amazing what kinds of things come out of his mouth when Pez gets him drunk on shots. Alex knows that Henry’s told him stuff about his life and his family that he’s never told anyone else. He’s told Henry things about his parents and school that he would never in a million years tell June or Nora. If anyone had bothered to ask in the last two years, Alex would absolutely call Henry his best friend. He could tell Henry he likes him.
It might be awkward for a bit if Henry gently tells him he doesn’t feel the same, that Alex isn’t his type, but they’d still text and call and look forward to nebulous future events where they get to spend time together.
Or it might be awkward for a time if Henry returns his feelings—a big if—as they figure out how to be romantically involved with an ocean between them ninety percent of the time. They’d still call and text (maybe adding in video calls) and actively look for events they could both attend so they could spend time together in person.
But either way, Alex knows in his bones that if he told Henry he had feelings for him—sexual or romantic—Henry wouldn’t stop being friends with him.
“Alex, seriously, what is going on with you?” Henry asks when he’s been silent too long.
Alex takes a deep breath and meets Henry’s worried eyes. His courage leaves him.
Because even though he knows Henry would still be friends with him, Alex confessing feelings would change everything.
“Just one of those nights, I guess.”
If Alex didn’t know every plane of Henry’s face, if he wasn’t watching so closely, he’d have missed the slight frown that mars Henry’s forehead. But it’s gone between one blink and the next, and Henry just makes sympathetic noises at him instead as they finish their post-midnight snack.
It’s enough to sit here in solidarity with the occasional teasing.
It’s more than enough.
It is.
It has to be.
Washington, DC — October 2019
Alex: you have to
H: I absolutely do not.
Alex: it would be a national tragedy if you don’t
Alex: you have to do it
Alex: for me
Alex: i already sent you everything you need
Alex: i cleared it with zee AND shaan and everything
Alex: please?
H: You are a menace and a plague and I don’t know why I put up with you.
H: Fine.
H: [picture attached]
Alex: YESS
Alex: david looks SO CUTE!!!!!!
H: I suppose there is something to be said for him dressed up as his namesake.
Alex: I’M SAYIN
Washington, DC — November 2019
bug: @ Bea ask what Alex did now.
Ayyyy: hey no
Ayyyy: shut up everythings fine and under control
👑🐝: Oh? What has he wrought?
bug: if by fine you mean the opposite of that
Auntie Pez: 👀
bug: [11242019.movie]
👑🐝: …
👑🐝: Is that a pool noodle Alex is brandishing? At a caged turkey?
Ayyyy: LISTEN
Auntie Pez:ahahahahahahahahahahhaaaaa
irl chaos demon: the standoff has been going on for like 20mins
Ayyyy: it threatened me okay?!
👑🐝: It’s a turkey.
bug: And it can’t get out of the cage.
Ayyyy: Cornbread has MURDEROUS INTENT
Ayyyy: it knows my sins
Auntie Pez: what might those be poppet??? inquiring minds etc etc
Ayyyy: no comment
Hazza: @ June and Nora, did you somehow miss the “menacing gobble” video?
bug: WHAT
irl chaos demon: grabby hands
Hazza: [24112019.movie]
Ayyyy: i sent you that in CONFIDENCE
Washington, DC — January 2020
The clock hasn’t even hit one minute past midnight yet when Alex’s shoes crunch in the snow of the Kennedy Garden. Guests are still kissing and screaming and singing enthusiastically in the ballroom and normally Alex would be in the center of all that celebrating but—
Henry’s out here.
Alex spots him leaning against a linden tree, staring up at the stars through the bare branches. He looks especially devastating tonight: cheeks flushed from both the heat inside and the cold outside, his perfectly-knotted tie coming loose from the dancing, hair free of the perpetual gel for once. Alex has to take a second to catch his breath before he goes over there. Well, tries to catch his breath—it seems he forgot how when he and Henry locked eyes during the countdown and his lungs haven’t quite figured out how to function again yet. There was a moment when Alex was sure that Henry was going to lean down and kiss him, right there on the dance floor. But then midnight hit and Henry jerked back and fled the room before Alex could stop him.
Alex may have shied away from saying anything back in London, but he’s spent the last three months regretting that decision. After seeing the heated look in Henry’s eyes tonight, Alex refuses to go another three minutes without telling him how he feels.
He walks through the snow next to Henry’s footprints, unwilling to mess them up. The utter sap in him wants evidence of their steps, side by side—wants the evidence that they were both here, in this moment. Alex leans against the trunk, letting his shoulder brush Henry’s as he decides how to start. Before he gets there, Henry speaks.
“D’you ever wonder what it’s like to be some anonymous person out in the world?”
So we’re going the philosophical route tonight. Fine, Alex can play along. For now.
“Like if my mom wasn’t the president and you weren’t royal?” Henry nods. “Obviously I’d be a model. These genetics transcend all circumstances. What about you?”
“I’d be a writer.”
“You already are,” Alex says without thinking, but it’s true. Henry has sent him snippets of poems and short stories and single lines with no context. He’s constantly got a notebook and pen with him, always scribbling away while Alex does homework and they’ve hit a lull in conversation.
Henry scoffs. “Not a real one.”
“Hey now,” Alex says, bumping his shoulder companionably. “You don’t have to be published to be a real writer. You just have to write.”
“And it’s not like I’d be allowed, regardless.” He sighs wistfully, but finally tears his gaze from the stars and looks at Alex properly for the first time. “I guess I’d…date more, probably, if I weren’t in line for the throne.”
Alex’s heart kicks up a notch and he licks his lips, nervous. He sees Henry trace the path of his tongue with his eyes.
“It can’t be hard to get a date when you’re a prince.”
“There’s getting a date… and then there’s getting a date with someone you actually want to date.” The look in Henry’s eyes might actually set Alex on fire.
“I— I know the feeling,” Alex rasps out. “But um… I’m about ninety-five percent sure that if you asked, they’d say yes.”
Henry’s eyes widen in hopeful shock as he turns further into Alex’s space. “Only ninety-five?”
“Well—” Alex has to clear his throat. “Since you haven’t actually clarified that you’re talking about— about me, I can’t be one hundred percent certain.”
Henry’s whole face breaks open with happiness, eyes searching Alex’s face for any trace of a joke or hesitation. Alex grins up at him, meeting his gaze steadily, and knows that Henry won’t find any reason to stop. And then Henry takes hold of Alex’s face in both hands and kisses him.
For a second, Alex is frozen in delighted shock that Henry’s lips are actually on his and Alex isn’t dreaming for once. Never in his dreams has it been this cold out, never have the wool cuffs of Henry’s coat brushed his face, never has there been tree bark digging into his back. But those details mean this is real, this is happening and then Alex throws himself into the kiss and lets his brain turn off after registering just how soft Henry’s lips are.
He throws an arm around Henry’s neck and the other he snakes between Henry’s shirt and his suit coat, desperate to pull Henry as close as possible and keep him there for longer than is probably advisable. He’s rewarded by Henry’s mouth opening and his tongue brushing against his. It’s nothing like kissing Nora ever was, nothing like the kisses he shared with Liam in high school, nothing close to any kiss he’s ever had in his life, first or otherwise.
It feels like a storm surge: inexorable and unyielding. Like water sweeping up the sand without care for towels or sand toys or houses, drenching everything in its path and carving out a new shoreline in its wake. It’s a first kiss that’s been building for years, finally coming to fruition.
Henry’s hand slips into his hair and pulls and Alex can’t help but make a pleased noise that one, he’ll deny making, and two, breaks the breathless silence in the garden. At the sound, Henry pulls back, but doesn’t release Alex’s hair, doesn’t unwrap himself from where they’re tangled together, doesn’t try to remove himself from Alex’s embrace. Fucking good, because if he tried, Alex would riot.
“I have to go soon. I’m meant to be on a plane back tonight,” Henry murmurs.
“Shitty planning, sweetheart.” Alex kisses Henry’s cheek impulsively, delighted all over again when Henry’s flush deepens.
“We probably shouldn’t do this,” Henry sighs.
“You’re right, we shouldn’t do this here. I’ve got a perfectly good bedroom upstairs, though,” Alex says, waggling his eyebrows.
“I meant—”
Alex cuts him off. “I know what you meant. But considering you were going to talk yourself out of trying to make this work, I elected to ignore it.”
“Alex, we would only see each other a few times a year at most.”
“If you think I haven’t been going down a rabbit hole of the logistical difficulties of this relationship since Philip’s wedding, you don’t know me at all.”
Henry blinks. “What does the wedding have to do with anything?”
“That’s when I realized I caught feelings for my best friend. You were standing there in your tux with your stupid sash next to the cake and you smiled at me and bam, it was all over. I don’t know when you decided you wanted my rockin’ bod, but—”
“Christ you’re as thick as it gets,” Henry growls, and kisses Alex quiet. Alex lets himself be practically devoured by Henry, lets his hands roam to start memorizing the shape of Henry’s ass with one hand.
They only stop when Henry’s phone chirps in his pocket. Henry looks decidedly mussed as he answers the text, like someone’s been running their fingers through the soft blond strands and biting his lips. Which Alex was, so he’s smugly glad to see the evidence. He’s sure he’s in a similar state from Henry’s mouth and hands and the idea of being able to see the effect Henry had on his body in the mirror makes him insane. Alex is all for gathering as much proof as possible that he’s awake right now, that this won’t all go up in smoke when his alarm goes off in the morning.
Henry sends three texts in quick succession and then kisses Alex one more time, firmly, but relatively chastely. He’s definitely saying good night. Alex doesn’t let him retreat without one last bite to his lower lip.
“I really do have to go now.”
“Okay.” Alex runs his hands down Henry’s chest to smooth his lapels. Okay, and also so he can feel the muscle beneath the dress shirt. “Text me, though. We’ll figure this out.”
Henry tips Alex’s chin up so they’re making eye contact. “I promise.”
Alex closes his eyes against the intense look on Henry’s face and his own desire to sew the two of them together so that no one can separate them.
“Go, H. Before your PPOs assume I’ve kidnapped you.”
There’s a fond chuckle, a quick kiss to his forehead, and then Alex hears Henry walk away. He’s suddenly a lot colder out here without his own personal prince wrapped around him like a blanket.
“Hey Henry?” Alex calls out, not moving from where he’s still leaning against the linden tree.
“Yes, love?”
“When did you realize?”
There’s a long beat and then he says, “Rio,” and any words Alex might have conjured up get drowned out by the sound of the party spilling through the door as it opens and then the sound cuts off again and Henry is gone.
Alex lets his head thunk back against the trunk and exhales heavily as he opens his eyes. Then the giddiness takes over as he beams up at the winter stars.
Washington, DC — January 2020
H💜: Arrived at the airport with Pez. He is draped forlornly over his seat bemoaning the lack of a Claremont-Diaz on the plane.
H💜: I can’t say I don’t relate.
Alex: miss you too baby
Alex: thank fucking god you’ll be back at the end of the month
Alex: talk to you properly when the sun’s up?
H💜: Looking forward to it, love.
Alex: 💜💜💜
Washington, DC — January 2020
Alex: i can’t believe I have to wait a whole six weeks before I see you again
H💜: We’ve gone longer before.
Alex: as much as I want to make a sex joke about that phrasing
Alex: i will hold myself back
H💜: Quite the sacrifice, love.
Alex: but
Alex: at the risk of sounding whatever
Alex: we’ve never gone so long without seeing each other when I know you like me back
Alex: H?
H💜: Sorry for the delay. It’s just still overwhelming seeing that sentiment in writing and not my fanciful imaginings.
Alex: you talk like an alien sometimes you know?
Alex: (don’t stop)
H💜: I forgot your aversion to proper grammar.
H💜: (I won’t.)
Washington, DC — January 2020
Alex: cmon Henry
H💜: No.
Alex: i know you aren’t busy for another two hours you told me yourself
Alex: pleeeaaase
H💜: Absolutely not.
Alex: whyyyyy
H💜: Because the first time I make you come isn’t going to be through a screen when I can’t even touch you.
Alex: fuck that’s hot
Alex: fuck
Alex: ok
H💜: Alex, did I break you?
Alex: in the interest of full disclosure
Alex: apparently neither of us needed to touch me to get me off
H💜: Christ
Alex: did I break YOU?
H💜: Not irreparably.
Incoming call from H💜
Washington, DC — February 2020
Henry doesn’t even let Alex tease him for being twenty minutes early before he’s pushing him against the wall and kissing the ever living fuck out of him.
Not that Alex is complaining about the development. The state dinner had seemed never ending and although they were at the same table, they were separated by three boring diplomats and a stupidly placed centerpiece. Alex had found himself swooning at each glimpse of Henry’s wrist as he gestured. Thank fucking god for Nora, who managed to work with Amy to spirit the two of them down the hall and into the Red Room for five whole minutes. Most of that time had been spent using their tongues for something other than talking, but they had managed to gasp out plans to meet here in Alex’s room at eleven.
And now at 10:41pm, a particularly hard tug of his curls knocks any further musing straight out of Alex’s head as he moans into Henry's mouth. This is what he wanted, what he’s been craving since New Year’s. The taste of Henry on his lips, the feel of his hands in Alex’s hair and exploring his chest. The sounds he can pull out of Henry with careful application of teeth. The smell of him so close, somehow still like fresh cut grass and linen despite his handlers’ best effort of drowning it under whatever posh ass cologne they doused him with. The whole thing is intoxicating and Alex’s biggest concern is that he can’t decide what he wants to do first.
Luckily for Alex’s non-functioning brain, Henry seems to have a plan.
Without removing his lips from Alex’s, Henry quickly gets Alex’s shirt open and runs his hands all over. Alex gasps when Henry’s fingers brush over a nipple, outright groans when Henry cups Alex’s cock through his suit pants. He can’t help but choke out a strangled, “fuck” when Henry pulls his mouth away from Alex’s in favor of kissing and biting his way down Alex’s throat.
With his heartbeat loud in his ears, Alex does all he can to remain standing—a job made almost impossible at the sight of Henry dropping to his knees and making quick work of Alex’s fly. There must be a questioning tone to Alex’s whimper because Henry tilts his head back to meet Alex’s eyes.
‘I’d like to get my mouth on you, if you’re amenable.”
“Does a bear shit in the woods? Of course I’m fucking amenable.” Oh good, his words came back.
“A simple yes would have sufficed,” Henry says reproachfully—though it’s a little hard to feel chastised when the words are muffled by Alex’s underwear. He can feel each breath Henry takes through the fabric, and Alex is going to lose what’s left of his mind.
“Such a menace,” continues Henry, as though he’s not driving Alex wild.
Alex tries and fails not to shift his hips, chasing the heat of Henry’s mouth. “Stop trying to turn me on,” he manages to retort.
“I wasn’t aware you weren’t there already,” Henry murmurs. “Allow me to correct that.”
Alex will deny it to his dying day, but he lets out a goddamn whimper when Henry finally gets his mouth on bare skin. (Thank fuck they’d already talked test results and preferences because if Henry stopped now to get a condom, Alex wouldn’t survive.) Alex has had blow jobs before, had enjoyed them, even. But there’s something about Henry's obvious experience, how eager he is for Alex to enjoy himself, that takes this blow job to a whole other level.
His hands are buried in Henry’s hair, his mouth moving a mile a minute—babbling curses and Henry’s name in equal measure. As much as Alex wants to give in to the pleasure rising through his body, wants to slump back against the door and close his eyes and let Henry push him over the edge, he doesn’t look away. He barely lets himself blink, not wanting to miss a fucking thing. Alex wants to live in this moment as long as possible.
But Henry keeps going and kneads Alex’s ass with one hand and applies more suction and then he does this thing with his tongue and opens his eyes again to meet Alex’s gaze and Alex is gone. Henry doesn’t give him an orgasm so much as lasso the pleasure from his gut and yank until Alex comes in his mouth.
Henry coaxes him through it, keeping Alex’s dick in his mouth and gentling him through the aftershocks before finally pulling back just as Alex gets too sensitive. He just came his brains out, but his cock still twitches with interest when Henry licks his lips to clean up the come he didn’t swallow.
“Have some fucking pity, H, Jesus.”
“Shan’t.” He’s a smug bastard, but Alex won’t deny he’s earned it.
Alex takes a few deep breaths to calm his racing heart before testing his knees to see if they’ll support his weight now (mostly) and whether he has enough coordination to pull Henry to his feet for a kiss (not really). Henry gets with the program and stands so Alex can lick the taste of his own come out of Henry’s mouth. It’s too soon to say the three words that are bursting at the back of his tongue, but fuck does he want to. Alex forces himself to have any semblance of chill about this situation and nudges Henry back enough to speak.
“Couch?”
Henry raises an eyebrow. “Something wrong with the bed?”
“Oh now he cares about a horizontal surface?”
Henry grins. “Merely concerned about your structural integrity, darling.”
“Get your ass to bed, baby, and I’ll show you just how structural I can be.” It’s Alex’s turn to grin when Henry shivers at the pet name. “Oh I see.”
Henry clears his throat, more than a faint blush to his cheeks. “Use your power wisely.”
Alex guides Henry to his bed and pushes, delighting in the breathless oh Henry lets out.
“I think we both know that isn’t happening.”
“Responsibly, then,” Henry tries.
“Right now I’m using it to give my first blow job, does that count?” Alex asks, pulling Henry’s pants and underwear down together.
“I’ll allow it,” Henry gasps.
Alex bites a triumphant smile into Henry’s inner thigh and gets to work.
It’s definitely too soon to say ‘I love you’ but he thinks it really loud in Henry’s direction between each dirty thought that occurs while his mouth is full.
Washington, DC — March 2020
Alex: happy birthday baby!!
H💜: Thank you, love.
Alex: call me later? I have an…aural present for you
H💜: That can be arranged.
Alex: 💜
Alex: hope you have an amazing day sweetheart
H💜: ♥️
London — March 2020
Hazza: Could we move the New York meeting to the 27th?
Auntie Pez: Why?
Hazza: I was merely thinking about what would be more convenient for the donor.
Auntie Pez: The fact that it’s a certain strumpet’s birthday has nothing to do with it?
Hazza: A mere bonus, I assure you.
Auntie Pez: I’ll see what I can do
Hazza: Thank you, Pez.
Auntie Pez: Thank me with the DETAILS haz
Hazza: We’ll see.
New York — March 2020
bug: There’s a cool thing tonight at the bar after the new voter drive. You’re coming right?
once and future dumbass: can’t
once and future dumbass: busy
irl chaos demon: what do you mean busy?
irl chaos demon: you’re not busy
irl chaos demon: i know for a fact you’re ahead on class stuff on purpose so you could come nyc in the first place
bug: Very this ^^^
once and future dumbass: i’m meeting a friend
bug: A FRIEND??
irl chaos demon: who tf are you meeting.
irl chaos demon: you have like 3 friends and we are 2 of them
once and future dumbass: RUDE
once and future dumbass: i have at least 5
bug: Don’t think we didn’t notice you not answering the who.
once and future dumbass: 😇
once and future dumbass: see you tomorrow for lunch
irl chaos demon: wtf
bug: You can’t run forever Lil’ Bit.
bug: I’ll get it out of you eventually.
New York — March 2020
Alex doesn’t have a lot of afterglows to compare this to, but he can’t imagine that any other pair or group of partners has ever felt like he does right now. He’s boneless and buzzing and his brain has all the intelligence of melted cheese and he’s never been happier in his life. And then Henry outright beams up at him from between his thighs, frosting somehow still clinging to the sides of his mouth and down his neck and Alex was wrong—
This is the happiest he’s been.
It’s a little strange, because if anyone had asked him over the last few years if he was happy, he would have said yes without question. Stressed, worried about the general election, missing his sister, yes, but generally happy. But all Henry has to do is smile at him for Alex to realize he’d just been powering through on a mix of stubbornness and caffeine. (Really, all he has to do is respond to Alex’s text for the same effect, but that’s a lot less relevant in this particular moment.)
It’s honestly amazing no one he knows has called him out on it. Threatening texts from June and Nora notwithstanding, it’s like no one has noticed. Absolutely unfathomable when you consider that Alex feels like he’s walking on air whenever he gets a new text. Surely Zahra would have pinned him down by now to demand an explanation for the sappy facial expressions he’s sure he’s leaving in his wake. The worst part is, he wants to talk about Henry. Wants to gush about the way being called ‘love’ makes him feel. Wants to gossip with Nora about that thing he does with his tongue. Wants to be able to call Henry his.
Henry crawls up the bed to give him a frosting-flavored kiss before curling into Alex’s side. “Happy birthday, love. Did you enjoy your present?”
“Fucking hell.”
“I’ll take that as a ‘yes.’”
Alex just makes a vague noise of contented agreement. There are two unlucky PPOs stationed outside the door who know just how much that’s a yes.
The two of them float in the moment, Alex slowly coming back to himself as Henry traces patterns along his ribs. He can feel Henry half hard against his hip, but Henry doesn’t seem to be in a hurry to do anything about it right now. It’s nice, just getting to share space again; getting to breathe the same air. Alex is just about to suggest returning the favor somehow when Henry takes a deep breath as though psyching himself up.
“Is it okay that Pez knows about us?”
Alex wants to say yes, of course, but Henry’s question does lend itself to the conversation Alex hasn’t wanted to have over the phone. “I think that depends on what he knows.”
“Ah,” Henry clears his throat, going slightly pink. “Well he knew that we kissed later that night because he was on the plane with me and apparently my heart eyes were ‘visible from space.’ And he knows we’ve slept together. And that anytime since New Year’s that we weren’t in the same room together we’ve been texting or calling every day.”
“Sorta sounds like you’re my boyfriend from that description,” Alex says around a growing grin, trying desperately for casual and missing the mark by a country mile.
Henry rolls more on top of Alex and meets his eyes squarely. “I want to be.”
“If that’s what Pez knows about us, I’m good with that.”
Henry kisses him soundly in answer. Alex lets it happen for a few (at least twenty) minutes before breaking away.
“Does that mean I can tell June and Nora? Because they’re already gonna kill me for waiting this long before telling them that we’re together and in love and stuff.”
Alex doesn’t even register that he’s said anything strange until Henry’s breath hitches.
“Oh fuck. I mean—”
“You love me?” Henry interrupts, looking at Alex.
Alex nods slowly, letting the look in Henry’s eyes and his continued closeness help him be brave. “Yeah, I know it’s too soon, like massively too soon, and it’s probably too much and I didn’t mean to say it yet but—”
“I love you, too.”
All the stress Alex had built up over the last thirty seconds whooshes out of him at Henry’s confession. “Oh, thank fuck.”
“I’ve been half in love with you since Rio, Alex. And I fell all the way as soon as you smiled at me across the room at Philip’s wedding. You must have had some notion of my feelings, you said ‘in love and stuff.’”
Alex shrugs. “I hoped. I almost told you in the guest kitchen, that night before the hospital visit? I just couldn’t risk ruining our friendship. And then at New Year’s I was sure you at least had a crush on me.”
“I kept telling Pez he was bonkers whenever he said that you had feelings for me.”
“Shoulda listened to ‘im. I’m pretty fuckin’ obsessed with you, H.” Alex pushes his head forward, unable to not be kissing his boyfriend (his boyfriend!), and is rewarded when Henry meets him halfway. Objectively, it’s not different from any of the other (many) times they’ve kissed. It’s still Henry’s lips and tongue and teeth dancing with his and their breath mixing every time they reposition their mouths. But this kiss feels totally different.
It’s like being wrapped in a heated blanket, like a bonfire catching on a warm summer night, like a controlled burn in a forest—sweeping out all the decaying and rotten stuff to make way for new growth, leaving healthier, stronger trees in its wake.
It’s a long time before Henry pulls away, and he’s more than a little breathless when he murmurs: “The feeling’s entirely mutual, I assure you, love.” Alex shivers at the endearment—it’s that much more potent now that he knows Henry means it.
“Once I tell June and Nora, we’re gonna have to figure out telling people officially, you know that right?”
“And our other family members before that, yes.”
“Fuck, are we insane for this? It’s too soon, right?”
“Yes to both, but also, Alex, this has been building for two and half years,” Henry says fondly.
Alex…hadn’t considered that before, especially because he hadn’t realized he’d fallen for Henry before the wedding. His own obliviousness isn’t something he cares about examining right now so he just shrugs again. “So true, bestie.”
“You are a plague.”
“You’re gonna have to be nicer to me in the strategy meetings about how we come out.”
“An unfortunately correct point,” Henry agrees solemnly as he throws a leg over Alex’s hip and Alex abruptly realizes how hard they both are. “But surely that strategy meeting can wait until after?”
“After what?” Alex teases.
Henry kisses him again at that and Alex happily lets him lead, lets Henry move the kiss from loving and sweet and tender to deep and claiming and filthy (and still loving). Lets Henry straddle him and grind their hips together. Lets Henry map every inch of his chest with his hands. Lets Henry roll them over so Alex is on top without ever breaking their kiss. Lets Henry push him back enough to say:
“I want you to fuck me.”
Alex freezes. “Are you—”
“Yes, and if you don’t, I may riot.”
“Well, we can’t have that.”
Henry is way easier to finger than himself—Alex can get a much better angle without his wrist cramping. He can’t help but stare at the way Henry’s entrance clenches down on his fingers, as though trying to hold him inside. He feels like a god when he finds and then circles Henry’s prostate, drawing noises out of Henry that he’s never heard before. (If he also feels some type of way about Henry impatiently guiding Alex through opening him up, about Henry sternly instructing him to add a second and then a third finger, well then Alex will have to examine that later because he’s a little busy right now.)
Henry is squirming on three fingers, his hips trying to push up to take more, and Alex can tell he’s ready.
“Get the lube, baby? I don’t want to pull out yet.”
Henry makes a punched out noise, but does slick up Alex’s cock in a few efficient, torturous strokes. Alex carefully pulls his fingers out and guides his cock into Henry instead. He slides all the way to the hilt in one go and has to hold still at the overwhelming hottightwet sensation. He can hear his heartbeat in his ears and swears he can feel Henry’s heartbeat pulsing around his dick. It’s an all-encompassing sensation, being inside Henry like this. He’s never felt closer to anyone in his life and he swears he understands the meaning of life for a brief second as he hovers over Henry.
“Fuck, I love you.”
Henry brings his legs up to cross behind Alex’s back, pulling them even closer together. “I love you, too.”
And then with his clean hand, Henry pulls Alex’s ear down to his mouth.
“Fuck. Me. Now.”
Alex can’t help but shudder at that, but complies, drawing his hips back before thrusting forward again and then setting up a rhythm that Henry matches without hesitation. He doesn’t have the breath for words, but somehow he gasps out praises and prayers as they move together. Henry is totally nonverbal, but still manages to urge Alex—faster, harder, there, right there—with his moans and the way his fingers dig into Alex’s shoulder and ass. He can feel Henry’s dick leaking steadily between them, and Alex can’t bear to be farther away from Henry’s mouth than the half inch he needs to breathe.
Henry’s hand runs up his neck to cup Alex’s cheek and Alex holds it there for a moment before twining their fingers together and pressing their joined hands into the mattress for more leverage. Henry shouts and the hand on his ass grips tight as the shift makes Alex hit Henry’s prostate dead on. Alex can feel his second orgasm building, but he wants Henry to come first. He gets a hand around Henry’s cock and adds a twist around the head on every upstroke. Henry’s back arches in pleasure, his eyes roll back and Alex thrusts a little harder, a little faster, desperate in the face of his own impending orgasm.
“C’mon baby, come for me,” Alex pants.
All it takes is one more thrust, one more stroke and then Henry goes stiff with a breathless gasping laugh as he comes between them. His hole clenches tight and Alex tumbles over the edge after him, inevitable.
Berlin — April 2020
H💜: I’m home and I can never wear that tie again.
Alex: fucking good
Alex: i would not be able to behave myself if you wore it in public after seeing it wrapped around your wrists and the bedposts
H💜: My stylist is going to ask why.
Alex: no they aren’t
H💜: Alright, they won’t, but they’ll give me a look that amounts to the same thing.
Alex: sucks man
H💜: Why are you like this?
Alex: natural charm
Alex: unrelated:
Alex: i think its time to tell parental units (plus shaan and zee)
Alex: it was such a relief to tell june and nora
Alex: more than i was expecting
Alex: also i don’t want to talk around you anymore
Alex: also also
Alex: Zee saw the hickey you left on my neck and i’m traumatized about it
H💜: You liked it.
Alex: i mean yeah
Alex: but she threatened to castrate me if i wasn’t more careful
H💜: Well, we certainly can’t have that. Let’s tell them.
Washington, DC — May 2020
once and future dumbass: ok here we go
once and future dumbass: now that i’m graduated and shit
once and future dumbass: i’m telling mom and then zahra
irl chaos demon: good fucking luck
irl chaos demon: can i have your stuff?
once and future dumbass: why do you always ask that?
once and future dumbass: it’s not cute
bug: yes it is
irl chaos demon: your sister thinks it’s cute
bug: jinx
once and future dumbass: my life was better before i knew you were dating
Washington, DC — May 2020
Alex: if you don’t hear from me again
Alex: zee killed me
H💜: Good luck, love. I’ll speak with you after.
Alex: fuck you’re the best baby
Washington, DC — May 2020
Zee: You WILL be at this meeting on time tomorrow afternoon and you WILL be helpful or so help me god I will staple your dick to your thigh and throw you into traffic.
Alex: should you be putting that threat in writing?
Zee: A jury of my peers would never convict me. It’s a meeting that wouldn’t even EXIST if you were dating almost anyone else.
Alex: I’ll be there and I’ll be helpful.
Zee: That’s what I thought.
London — July 2020
“Should we tell your grandmother about our plan?”
Henry rolls over to look at Alex with the most incredulous expression on his face. “That’s what you’re thinking about right now?”
Okay, so Henry might have a point about timing given that both of them are still naked. But he’s been thinking about it for a while and now the question’s out there and Alex, unlike Elsa, won’t be able to let it go.
“Not tonight, obviously. But like, before I go back to DC.”
“Just to clarify,” Henry says, sitting up against the headboard of his awful gold bed with indignation. “You want to tell my grandmother, the Queen of England, that we are dating and plan to come out after your mother gets elected. And you want to do that at the end of what she thinks is basically a diplomatic trip to attend Wimbledon.”
Alex grins up at him, unrepentant. “It would save on airfare.”
In retrospect, he should have expected Henry to shove him off the bed. But he did agree to see when ole Mary has space in her schedule, so.
London — August 2020
Ayyyy: we who are about to die, salute you
bug: You’ve got Zahra and Shaan on your side, it’ll be fine.
Ayyyy: i could have a literal pantheon of gods on my side and i’d still be freaking out
Hazza: I’m not letting her sweep you aside, love. Not for another moment.
Ayyyy: hot
👑🐝: No flirting in the gc.
irl chaos demon: speak for yourself bea
irl chaos demon: June’s looking FOINE today
Auntie Pez: OH HO IS SHE NOW
bug: 😉
Ayyyy: 🤮
Hazza: We have to go collect my mother and Pip for the meeting now.
Auntie Pez: GO GET EM BOYS
👑🐝: AHEM
Auntie Pez: AND BEA
bug: Good luck!!!
irl chaos demon: the math is in your favor 🎉
California — August 2020
Pa: hazlos sufrir mijo
Alex: te amo
Washington, DC — August 2020
President Mom: You’ve got this, sugar.
Alex: thanks mom
London — August 2020
Ayyyy: bug, i’m gonna need one hell of a speech
bug: I started writing it last week!!!!! I KNEW y’all could do it!
irl chaos demon: !!!! FUCK YEAH !!!!
Auntie Pez: YOU CONQUERED THE BEAST WELL DONE
Hazza: Mum had to threaten to declare her unfit to rule to get her to agree, but she did agree.
👑🐝: I’ve never seen her turn that color before 😂
Washington, DC — December 2020
Alex should be going downstairs right now. Press conferences wait for no man, even if technically he’s the one who called for it. If he’s late, Zahra will skin him alive. But he can’t make himself leave his bathroom just yet.
He has to get this right. For his mother’s legacy. For all the people that look to him as a role model. For all the queer people this will help.
For him and Henry.
Before he can psych himself out too much, the door swings open, revealing Henry in one of his impossibly well-tailored suits.
“Hello, love.”
Alex can feel his shoulders relax at the mere sight of his boyfriend. “Hey. I’m almost ready.”
Henry does him the favor of not laughing out loud at him, instead wrapping himself around Alex’s back and tucking his chin over Alex’s shoulder so they’re both looking in the mirror.
Alex sighs contentedly. “I’m dressed and stuff, at least.”
“True. A lovely suit for an even lovelier man.”
“Not the time to flirt with me, H,” Alex mock-chides.
“I profoundly disagree.” Henry smooths Alex’s tie with one hand. “Do you remember Rio?”
“Which part? Because the part I remember best was the US winning the Men’s Pairs Diving Final—”
“You are a miscreant and a plague.”
“And you love me.”
Henry sighs. “And I love you. But do you remember our conversation in the bathroom?”
“Of course,” Alex smiles softly. “It’s not every day you hear royalty sniffling through a bathroom stall.”
“You made me feel better just by talking to me,” Henry says, ignoring Alex’s attempt at humor. “You made me feel steadier and seen when so many other people had treated me like window dressing for their own grief. Your simple presence is enough to buoy up anyone in the vicinity.”
Alex exhales shakily and lets himself admit what’s keeping him in the bathroom instead of making his way downstairs. “I’m stressed as fuck about the speech, H.”
Henry squeezes him tightly and kisses his suit-covered shoulder. “June wrote an amazing speech. Ellen and Nora both approved it, you like it, and Zahra said it would do. And you’ve been practicing it non-stop since June finished writing it. You’re charming and well-spoken and the care and passion you have for the subject matter will shine through with every word you say. It’s going to be an amazing day.”
“Thanks, sweetheart. I just—”
“Don’t want to bollocks things up, I know.” Henry meets his eyes steadily in the reflection. “I’ll love you no matter what happens.” He pauses and then smirks. “Even if you knock over another cake on the way to the podium.”
Alex can’t help the grin that rises as quickly as his indignation. “Hey! That was at least fifty percent your fault—”
“So you say,” Henry says patiently. “But nothing is going to go wrong. You’re going to be just fine.”
Alex leans back and lets Henry take his full weight. Lets Henry prop him up while he steadies himself. Wills himself to believe what Henry’s saying.
“I’ll be with you the whole time, right next to you,” Henry murmurs. “Just like we talked about. You’re not doing this alone.”
“Okay. I can do this. Shoulders back, right?”
“And attempt to think tall, yes,” Henry confirms with a teasing twinkle in his bright blue eyes.
Alex finds his feet and turns in Henry’s arms to look at his boyfriend properly. “You and me?”
“You and me,” Henry promises, and this time Alex can feel Henry’s certainty in his own bones.
He can’t help but lean forward and Henry meets him halfway with a sweet, chaste kiss, full of gentle confidence and unwavering support. Alex pulls back, but keeps their foreheads pressed together and takes a deep breath.
“Okay. Let’s go.” And Alex leads them out of the bathroom, through his room, and out of the Residence to the Briefing Room.
Hand in hand, and so in love.