Work Text:
A quick glance at the watch on his wrist tells Alex that he needs to hurry if he wants to make it to his date with Henry on time. He curses low under his breath, damn his boss and the late-ass meeting he called in today for absolutely no reason at all other than to have it. It was a waste of everyone's precious time if you asked him. But no one did, and being the President's son does not give him any benefits in the law firm that he had scored an internship in, and that will hopefully hire him full-time once he has finished law school. So he sat through an hour of a boring-ass meeting that – in all honesty – could have been an email. Just as he enters the bar, Cash and Amy trailing in behind him, his phone buzzes in his pocket with an incoming text:
HRH Prince Dickhead 🍆
I'm running late; something came up in the shelter that I needed to take care of. I'll be there as soon as I can. xx
It's fine, it really is. Alex knows that Henry is busy at the moment. They both are, with Alex about to finish law school in just a few months and Henry finally doing something meaningful to him with his work in the youth shelters. The events of the last months (years, if he is being honest) still feel kind of surreal at the best of days. But, despite the stressful days and busy schedules, there is a lightness to his heart that has not been there in years, and it is all because of Henry. Henry, his boyfriend, the love of his life. The person who has made him happier than anyone else in his entire life. Alex loves that Henry can finally put his heart and passion into something he truly cares about. His boyfriend's finally showing the world the part of him that Alex loves the most. The part that Henry has kept hidden for far too long. This is also why he would never criticize Henry for being just as much of a workaholic as he is. And honestly, Alex could never be with someone who didn't care about their work and what they were doing with it in the world.
And it isn't like they don't see each other. Obviously, they do; they live together in the same house. But increased workloads on both ends and colliding schedules have made it increasingly more difficult to spend time together, just the two of them.
So after weeks of hurried blow jobs in the morning and quick fucks whenever they had more than just a few minutes to spare, Alex decided enough was enough. He knows what being "too busy" can do to a relationship; he has seen it with his parents firsthand. And more importantly, he misses Henry. Not just their easy physicality but Henry. He couldn't even remember the last time they had both spent an evening in. Or lazy morning together in bed (with languid kisses and sleepy sex) as most weekends one or even both of them had to get up early for meetings and work. And he knows for a fact that Henry missed it as well. He had told Alex as much (or, to be more accurate, complained about it) when Alex was getting ready for the day, and how dare Alex look this good in a suit and tie and Henry not able to do something about it "Seriously Alex, a single Windsor? You know that is the easiest knot to undo. It is like you are trying to seduce me. Why bother wearing any clothes at all? " Alex did end up being late to a meeting that day, with ruffled hair and Zahra glaring at the hickey that was visible just above the collar of the suit he was wearing. Incidentally, t his day was also when they realized that this would do no longer.
They decided that they would make the time and find at least one night every every month where they didn't need to be up early the next day and could enjoy their night as well as the morning together. Today, they were meeting at a bar near their neighborhood that was conveniently just a few blocks away from where they lived. Not a karaoke bar, though. After that night in LA and the karaoke night in Texas, Alex had to promise Henry never to let him near a karaoke machine or too many tequila shots ever again.
Nothing too fancy or crowded either. Neither of them liked to gain the attention of a screaming group of fans who wanted to get their selfie with him, Henry, or both of them on their night out. Sometimes, he still couldn't grasp why people were so obsessed with them and their relationship. The picture Nora sent him of his and Henry's face on a thong in some souvenir shop in London ("Found these, what sizes do you guys need??") made him laugh but will most certainly haunt him in his nightmares until he dies.
He got it in an objective way. The Prince of England and the Son of the President of the United States had entered an actual courtship. Of course, there would be a buzz going around the world because of that. If you had told Alex just a year ago that he would be in a happy, committed relationship with the Prince of England, he would've laughed in your face and given you the directions to the next psych ward. But all he can think now is that being with Henry was exhilarating in a way that Alex couldn't describe (though he is adamant about the fact that his and Henry's face on what is basically merchandise for the monarchy is and will forever remain weird. Especially the underwear). After all, it is true what people say: Love and hate are two sides of the same coin. And he does. He loves Henry with every fiber of his being. An all-consuming, forever kind of love you only felt once in a lifetime. Sometimes, he feels like an addict, and Henry is his drug of choice. Also, it didn't hurt that they are both extremely hot (if you asked Alex). So yes, he got the hype, alright. And he loved that they were changing things, slowly but surely. Making history. Neither he nor Henry is too naive to think this won't affect them and their relationship for the rest of their lives.
Alex is OK with that, all things considered. He would even go as far as saying that he wants it in one way or another. He wants to show young, queer people out there that their happiness is not based on the conditions of others. That they are allowed to be happy and that they are worthy of love.
It was just, sometimes Alex just wanted him and Henry to be well, them . Not the First Son of the first female President, not Prince Henry of Wales, not some queer role models for generations to come. And like he said, he knows anonymity will never be an option for them, but they can choose each other above everything else and just be Henry and Alex. He smiles as he types a reply before he lets the phone slide back into his pocket.
HRH Prince Dickhead 🍆
So sorry; something came up in the shelter that I needed to take care of, and I am running late. I'll be there as soon as I can. xx
It's OK, baby. Just text me when you are here; I'm at the bar.
Will do. See you soon, darling.
"Hello, Alex," comes a low voice next to him, pulling him from his thoughts. "Long time no see." Alex knows that voice, and sure enough, Miguel slips into the empty seat next to him before Alex can do or say anything. "All alone at a bar like this? Where is your Prince Charming? Trouble in paradise already?"
Alex absolutely does not want to talk to Miguel. "None of your business whatsoever. Please leave." The tone of his voice leaves no room for interpretation.
The nerve of this man coming up to Alex and talking to him as if he wasn't the biggest asshole Alex had ever met. Not only because of that damned article. God, what did Alex ever see in this guy? Journalists are literally the worst (June is the exception, of course, because his sister is great. She merely has lousy taste in career choices. And men. Not that it matters, though, seeing as she and Nora were on a three-week couple vacation in the UK. Though, seeing as they also sent pictures with Pez, all three of them shooting heart eyes at each other and generally displaying a level of intimacy that's definitely more than platonic on all ends it was more of a throuple vacation. OK, maybe June's taste in men was not all that bad).
Miguel chuckles lightly, clearly not thrown off by Alex's response. "Oh, come on, Alex, don't be like that. It's a Friday night, and you are in a bar in New York. And you being who you are, it's bound to happen that people will come up and talk to you."
Alex rolls his eyes at that. "I am waiting for Henry, not that it is of any concern to you. And seeing as I do not feel much inclined to talk to you, I would very much appreciate you leaving me the hell alone."
"Hm," Miguel says noncommittally, "I don't feel like leaving, though." And then, as if they were having a normal conversation, he adds, "You know, the two of us, we had fun." his eyes roaming over Alex's body in a way that has once been welcomed and even thrilling but now only makes him uncomfortable and even feel a little objectified, "and we could have some fun again. That pale prince of yours doesn't even need to know.”
“Don't talk about him.”
"Alex, Alex, Alex," Miguel says, shaking his head lightly, "there used to be a time when you'd agreed with me. He's a boring-ass white dude with a bland personality and nothing to show but his heritage. We could continue our discussion if you wanted to. All off the record, of course, if that is what you are concerned about." And, if this inappropriate innuendo wasn't enough, Miguel adds a suggestive smirk to the last part of his sentence. While he was merely irritated and annoyed before, Alex is starting to get angry now. Whatever Miguel's goal is here, he certainly would not achieve anything by coming up to Alex and talking shit about his boyfriend, of all people. Evidently, his taste in man is similar to June's in the jack-ass department. No, that isn't really fair to Henry, or even Pez, for that matter. Maybe he just doesn't make the best decisions when he is drunk. The "Cake-Gate-Incident," while unintentionally being the singular most significant thing to happen to him, is also a great example that he is, in fact, a reckless drunk.
He just glares at Miguel harder. "Seriously, stop talking." His phone buzzes again with another incoming text, but Miguel continues before he can look at it.
"He is good-looking; I'll give you that. If you are into that kind of cookie-cutter type, that is. Or just rich, privileged white men. His dick must be great, at least." Alex feels the sudden touch of an unwelcome hand on his upper arm. "I, for one, much prefer guys like you." His eyes glide over Alex's face again. "Rugged and handsome. All charm, easy smile. And your ass, Dios mío." the hand slides down and settles on his knee.
He is about ready to punch Miguel in the face, but is in a public place. So, despite his anger, he tries to keep his voice as calm and neutral as possible. "Don't touch me." he tries to shrug the hand off. FSOTUS decking Politico journalist in a bar in New York is not the kind of headline Alex was looking for in the newspapers. Though Is Alex Claremont-Diaz cheating on his British Prince Charming? isn't something Alex cared for either, but what people would begin to think if Miguel couldn't take a hint and keep his grabby paws to himself. To top it all off, Miguel tightens his grip on Alex's knee instead of letting go and leans in. "I always thought we could have been something good, you know."
Alex can't help but snort at that. "I am not sure if you realize how delusional you sound right now. After everything you did, do you honestly think I want anything to do with you? I told you once and am telling you again: you and I? We will never happen again. Now let the fuck go."
Alex looks away from Miguel and tries to catch Amy's gaze, only to see that she has been watching them with sharp eyes from the start and is already making her way over to where they are sitting at the bar. She suddenly stops and looks at something or someone behind Alex. He doesn not need to turn around to see who it is; can sense Henry before he hears him: "I believe you were told to back off." The now-familiar press of an equally familiar body beside him pulls him in immediately. Alex turns his gaze to the right, looking at his boyfriend. Henry's presence alone manages to calm his nerves with such ease that Alex wonders how he has lived without Henry by his side for so long. The situation they are in aside, Alex couldn't help but notice how good Henry looks. Like Alex, he is still in his clothes from work, but he has removed his tie and loosened the first few buttons of his button-down while the sleeves are rolled up so that Henry's muscular forearms are on display.
"Thus, if you got your hands off him, that would be lovely." He can hear the sharp edge in Henry's voice. Still posh, still polite, but with a cool undertone that leaves no room for questioning his authority. Miguel, for his part, doesn't notice Henry's tone nor the glare directed at him. He just smirks at Henry. "Ah, Prince Charming," he says and gives Alex's knee a squeeze. "Alex is a big boy. If he didn't want the attention, he can tell me that himself." Alex gapes at that. They must have had two very different conversations because if Alex recalls correctly, he did, in fact, tell Miguel to fuck off. Alex is just about to say as much when Henry speaks up again.
“He very much did. Now let go.” His eyes are fixated on the hand still resting on Alex's knee, and oh, that was a new side of his boyfriend he hadn't seen before. Henry's eyes were screaming bloody murder, making something coil low in Alex's stomach. If Henry's gaze eyes were able to set people on fire, Miguel would be a steaming pile of ash by now, and all Alex could think or do is hot and damn; I truly am in love with this man. When Miguel doesn't immediately pull his hand away from Alex's thigh, this seems to be the last straw for Henry.
"I said," Henry's voice is more like a hiss now. "Get your bloody hands off of my boyfriend." he grabs Miguel's wrist and yanks his hand from Alex's thigh. Gone was any trace of politeness from his boyfriend's voice; when Alex looks at Henry's face, he can see the anger displayed on the prince's handsome features. His body, his voice, his entire demeanor, Henry says those words with every bit of aristocratic authority that Alex finds so unapologetically attractive (sue him). And apparently, he can add "display of slightly possessive behavior" to his kink list as well because damn if this Henry - all angry and protective and fucking hot - isn't a sight to behold. He is no damsel in distress, but there is something to be said about a knight in shining armor, and the irony of this is not lost on Alex.
"Hey!" comes a high-pitched yelp from Miguel; clearly, he didn't expect Henry to get physical. The force of Henry's shove has made the smaller man tumble from the chair he is sitting in, so Miguel grabs for the edge of the bar to pull himself upright "What the fuck, dude?!" Miguel's voice was just shy of screaming.
"If someone tells you not to touch them, you bloody listen! Seriously, what the hell is wrong with you? Are you that desperate to hit on someone you know is not interested? I know, it must be hard to know what you could have had with him." Miguel's eyes widen in surprise. "Oh yes, I know. Alex told me about the two of you. Tell me, how does it feel to see Alex here, knowing that you can never have him again? Knowing that he belongs to me?" Miguel snaps his mouth shut.
Henry's still fuming, and he looks like he is ready to pounce at Miguel again at any moment. Their entire exchange was louder than Alex realized because everyone in their vicinity was staring at them, mouths agape. Someone must have also notified the staff of the bar because a security guard with bulging biceps and tattoos had come over and was now hovering beside Miguel. "Is there a problem here, Sir?" He asks Alex with a raised eyebrow. Amy is now also at the bar and stands beside the security guard.
Alex's eyes flick from the security guard to Henry and then to Miguel. To Alex's satisfaction, Miguel looks rather uncomfortable, his gaze on the shelves behind the bar, his lips pressed together firmly. Suits him right, dick.
"No, Mr. Ramos was just about to leave," says Alex. An undignified snort comes from Miguel, and Amy, the queen she is, pushes the security guard to the side and tightly grabs Miguel's upper arm. "Excuse me, Sir, but I think it's best if you leave now."
"Look, Mam, I wasn't the one who started this whole thing! Tell that psycho of a prince to -" but he can't finish his sentence before Amy tightens her grip on his arm and pulls him towards the door. "You seem to have forgotten who you were talking to. Be glad you will only get thrown out of this bar and not get the cops called on you for sexually harassing the President's son. I will escort you from the premises." Amy says, voice professional and collected, but her eyes glaring daggers at the journalist.
Miguel tries to protest but quickly realizes he has no chance against the agent's strong hold on him. He may be an asshole, but he seemed to know when a battle was lost.
Henry exhales sharply and watches Amy as she shoves Miguel unceremoniously out the door. He whirls around to Alex, eyes still gleaming with anger. "Such insolence, can you believe it?!" Henry exclaims, "I was just about ready to whack that stupid smirk off his face. How dare he act like that, coming on to you, flirting with you, and touching you, touching what is mine -" he stops abruptly, his eyes go wide, and his cheeks are flush a deep shade of red with the realization of what he's just said. And just like that, all the tension seeps from his shoulders. He slumps forward to bury his face in Alex's shoulder with a groan. "All we wanted was a quiet night out, and now the whole night is ruined." And while Alex doesn't think that he should have acted on what he very much wanted to do (which was to punch Miguel in his stupid face), he is sort of in awe that Henry, beautiful, thoughtful Henry, is now confident enough to do something that doesn't fit into the image of the immaculate heir to the British throne. Also, it was kinda hot and made him incredibly horny.
Alex slips his hand around Henry's waist and pulls him in to press a kiss to the side of Henry's face. He feels the other man relax in his arms – one might even say Henry melted at the touch of Alex's lips on his cheek. He leans into Alex slightly before he turns in Alex's arm and lets their lips brush together, just a quick but firm press of lips against each other.
“Sweetheart, " he purrs, his hand on Henry's cheek. As usual, Henry positively keens at the sound of the pet name. Alex smiles, taking Henry's shin in his left hand, and presses another decidedly less chaste kiss to Henry's lips. "Don't be embarrassed. First of all, you are not responsible for the shitty behavior of someone else. And secondly... Henry, baby, that was one of the hottest things anyone has ever done for me. If this hadn't brought as much attention to us as it did, I would go with you to the restroom right now and show you just how much I liked it.”
With Miguel gone, the low buzz of the bar slowly but surely picks up again. Alex didn't notice how quiet it had been before, but he guessed when the Prince of Wales was involved in a physical altercation with another man because said man was hitting on his boyfriend; well, Alex could see how this could grab the people's attention. He is sure that Amy and Shaan were already making sure that none of this would get out to the press.
Henry's eyes darken at Alex's words, "You truly are a menace." he slips a hand into Alex's hair, tugging lightly at the strands at the base of Alex's neck before he leans in and kisses Alex again. A deep, luscious kiss full of want that reminds Alex of the early days of their relationship, where they couldn't keep their hands off each other and where every second they didn't touch felt like an unbearable eternity. He pulls Henry close and lets his hands slip to Henry's waist and the small of Henry's back. All that he can think is yes and want and more . He tries to convey all this in the press of his lips and the slide of his tongue against Henry's; wants Henry to know that Alex loves him with every ounce of his being. By the way Henry is kissing him back, open-mouthed and downright dirty, Alex gets the feeling that Henry just might.
After a few more demanding kisses, Henry pulls away slightly and rests his forehead against Alex's. "I missed you today," he whispers, letting his other hand roam over Alex's chest. He is sure that Henry could feel the heavy thumb of Alex's heart in his chest. Their eyes meet for a brief second before Henry's gaze falls on the tie Alex is wearing. He chuckles softly, "And you are wearing a Windsor knot again." Henry tucks at the piece of fabric wrapped around his throat. "You know how I feel about that."
Alex's cock switches at the implication of that, and he reaches for Henry's hand at his collarbone, pulling it towards his lips. The thought of sucking Henry's fingers in his mouth briefly crosses his mind. However, they are still in a public bar, and even though they had been full-on making out just moments before, there are some lines that Alex doesn't want to cross in public. At least not where everyone can see them and where there is not the attention an entire bar focused on them. Instead, he presses a kiss to the palm of Henry's hand before he tangles their fingers together and gives their joined hands a little squeeze.
"Hm," Alex says into the space between them, keeping his voice low. "I seem to have forgotten what you mean. It'd be best to go home and remind me exactly what you are talking about." The glint in Henry's eyes is unmistakable. "Lead the way, darling."