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“Oh my fucking Christ,” Henry mutters beside him, but Alex only barely hears it past the buzzing in his ears. Said buzzing does, at the very least, drown out the noise from the rest of the room, which Alex is certain he does not want to know about.
Henry’s wrist flexes in his hand and Alex tries to release him, but he can’t quite manage to get his fingers to uncurl and let go of the one thing grounding him right now. His throat has closed around choked… apologies or swear words or whatever else someone might say when the completely fucking unimaginable occurs, and his limbs rush almost painfully with adrenalin, even as his body seems to have chosen freeze over fight or flight, which is not like him at all.
Alex couldn’t say how the two of them get off the floor and end up standing alone in the nearest closed bathroom. They’re instructed not to move while the staff fetch towels, but—once he rips his tie away from his throat—Alex doesn’t think he could move if he tried. His head is all fuzzy with the feeling of every bit of the cake and champagne sticking to his skin, and all he can do is trace the pattern of the marble floor tiles with his eyes.
When he finally gathers the courage to steal a glance at Henry, he has to blink hard a few times to make sure there isn’t buttercream in his eyes making him see things.
Henry’s looking at him with far more alarmed concern and only about half of his previous anger, and Alex realises he hasn’t spoken a word since his stammered denial of being obsessed with Henry right before the whole… cake thing. Famous last words, anyone? he thinks bitterly.
“Is it possible for us to make our way to my room to do this? Without causing more of a scene?” Henry asks someone over Alex’s shoulder.
Alex doesn’t have the wherewithal to focus on anything except Henry to find out who he’s speaking to. He does wonder vaguely if ‘this’ refers to Alex’s prompt execution, but he can’t find it in himself to care either way. A decision seems to be made and staff begin moving about the bathroom and the hallway outside.
A stack of white towels appears on the counter, and Alex numbly watches as Henry carefully removes his jacket, sighs and drops it on the floor. He peels out of his waistcoat next, which leaves him in cake-laden trousers and a mostly clean shirt as he toes out of his fancy dress shoes. It’s a very… un-royal scene, Alex thinks, as he watches Henry wiggle his socked toes on the tiles. Alex looks back up to Henry’s face to see him frowning.
He looks Alex up and down, opens his mouth and closes it again. He glances at his equerry, who gives him a slight nod that Alex doesn’t even try to understand. Henry looks back at Alex and juts his chin out just a little. “Are you comfortable with being touched right now?”
Alex feels himself give Henry a squinty frown as he processes the implications of the question. Surely someone who’s about to kill you wouldn’t ask for permission first. Right? He looks warily at the stuffy security person and Henry’s equerry who are the only people standing still amongst the flurry of movement beyond.
“Only me,” Henry says, drawing his attention back, “Or you can say no.”
Alex shrugs and Henry helps him out of his jacket and then his shoes, which Alex finally manages to conclude is probably to minimise the cake and frosting they’re still leaving in their wake if they’re going to be heading somewhere else in the palace. He’s still not sure if that’s to finish getting cleaned up or execute him, but he thinks that’s okay.
Henry cleans his hands on a towel and passes another to Alex, who numbly wipes at the frosting on his hands and neck, where the feel of it was starting to make his skin crawl. They add the towels to the growing pile of cake and fabric on the floor. And then Henry’s hands slowly come up to hold onto his elbows and Alex twists his wrists so he can grip onto Henry’s forearms, closing his eyes as the fog in his head clears a little with the contact.
“It’s all right,” Henry says after a moment. “It’s all right, Alex.”
And oh, fuck. His eyes grow hot and damp and he tips his head down toward the floor while he successfully fights the tears back.
There’s movement and whispers behind them and then the equerry says, “Ready when you are, sir.”
“Thank you, Shaan,” Henry says.
Alex takes a few deep breaths and opens his eyes to Henry’s concerned frown before his gaze is drawn to the thin red line on his cheekbone. Alex brings a hand up between them, letting his fingertips hover by the cut, looking at Henry with a question in his eyes.
Henry only shakes his head. “Shaan will take a look when we get to my room.” He takes a step toward the door, his hand warm and steady where he’s still holding onto Alex’s arm, and says, “Come on.”
“June and Nora—” Alex chokes out suddenly, looking around to where he’s used to having them right by his side.
“Will be just fine without you,” Henry says calmly. He tilts his head just a little and regards Alex’s state. “Or I can have someone bring them to us if you’d like.”
Alex shakes his head desperately. He does not need more people seeing him like this, even if June and Nora are perhaps the only two people on the planet he would usually trust to witness his most embarrassing fuck ups. And Henry would normally be the last. But apparently, this is happening.
But he also can’t just leave. He doesn’t know where they’re going or if he’s coming back, and he doesn’t know what June and Nora are doing now and if they’re—
He opens his mouth to try to say… anything, but nothing comes out.
Henry frowns and presses his lips together for a moment, searching Alex’s face for answers he can’t voice. “Would you like me to have someone check on them? Make sure they’re doing all right?”
Alex’s panic clears a little and it must show on his face because Henry nods and takes a half step toward Shaan the equerry to relay the request.
They make it to Henry’s rooms, which he tells Alex is really only used as a green room for these events since he and Princess Beatrice live over in Kensington Palace. Alex doesn’t tell him that he already knew that.
The staff leave them at the main door and he’s led by Henry through the bedroom and into another bathroom.
“Leave all that on the floor,” he says, gesturing tiredly at Alex’s clothes, “Take a shower and I’ll—” One of his eyebrows dips down before he turns and heads back out of the bathroom, returning with two towels, a fluffy robe and a change of clothes. He sets them out on the counter, saying, “My clothes should fit you well enough. Shower and… take a moment to breathe. I’ll be just through there,” he says, gesturing to the bedroom.
Alex nods numbly. Henry’s being almost scarily kind considering… well, everything. The cake, their history, Alex’s current numb panic, the cake. Still, Henry’s the only thing even remotely familiar, and he’s sort of latched onto that small comfort.
“Could you—” he says, then spins around and shoves his fist in his mouth, quickly shaking his head and hoping that it conveys the Nope, never mind! he can’t manage to say. He raises his shaking hands to his cakey shirt buttons and fumbles with the first one.
“You…” Henry starts. Very carefully, he asks, “Do you not want to be alone?”
“I’m fine,” he rushes out while his voice is miraculously cooperating, “Sorry. Thank you. You don’t have to—”
Henry crosses the room and steps into Alex’s view, slowly bringing a hand up between their chests to stop Alex’s fumbling with the buttons. “It’s all right,” he says softly. “Let me help you?”
Alex takes a slow breath and lets it out shakily. “You—” he manages before his exhaustion fully takes over and he can no longer force out even the most fragmented of sentences. He squeezes his eyes shut.
Henry gently pushes his hands away from his chest and readies his own fingers at the first button. Alex leans into the gentle pressure and lets it wash over his nervous system for a few minutes. When he opens his eyes, he finds Henry already patiently meeting his gaze, waiting until he nods his consent before starting on Alex’s shirt buttons. As Henry gently tugs his shirt off his shoulders, Alex feels hot tears finally sliding down his cheeks and his hands fly up to clutch at Henry’s shoulders to steady himself.
“Come on,” Henry says softly, “You’ll feel better once you’re clean.”
Alex’s hands flex where they rest on Henry’s shoulders and Henry tilts his head as he looks down at him. Embarrassed, Alex lets his hands fall away, but swiftly Henry catches them in his own.
“Forgive me if I’m making a terrible mistake,” he says carefully, “But would you like me to stay?”
Alex swallows. Tightens his grip around Henry’s hands.
“I—” Henry says. He frowns, then nods once. “Okay. All right. You don’t need to talk, but I’m afraid I’m a little out of my depth here. Do you think you could show me what you need?”
“I need—” Alex starts. He swallows and tries again. “Will you… I need something that feels real,” he says weakly. His eyes shift from Henry’s face down to their hands. “You feel real.”
Henry only nods and takes a moment to think. He sits Alex down on the edge of the bath, nudging his knees apart so he can stand between them, and—through layers of fabric, icing and cake—they end up pressed firmly against one another from the sides of their feet to their knees. Henry gently pulls his hands from Alex’s so he can work on the buttons of his own shirt, and Alex lets his hands hover over his lap awkwardly, fighting the urge to pick at his nails. When Henry’s bowtie lands on his thigh, he latches on and begins to fidget with it despite the frosting. Henry drops his shirt on the floor and picks up Alex’s hands again, guiding them to the soft curve of his waist. Alex makes a noise in his throat when he realises he’s getting frosting on Henry’s skin.
“It’s all right,” Henry says again, and Alex thinks he might finally be starting to believe him. Henry leaves the vee of his legs to step out of his trousers and Alex shifts his hands further around Henry’s back, gently digging his fingers in, letting his forehead fall against Henry’s sternum. He feels Henry suck in a breath before he takes Alex by the elbows, guiding him to his feet and into a solid embrace.
“Oh,” Alex says, willing himself not to cry again. His face is pressed into the dip of Henry’s warm, bare shoulder, his arms curled around Henry’s waist while Henry holds him around his upper back. He feels Henry’s breath against the side of his neck and he shivers. Henry pulls back but leaves his arms loosely curled around him, his large hands sliding up and down Alex’s back, pressing warmth into him.
“You’re not… interested in my sister, are you?”
Henry turns away and coughs like he’s choking on air. “What? I—No, I…” He pulls out of the hug and looks at Alex with what appears to be a mix of trepidation and six different kinds of frustration all at once. “I’m gay, Alex.”
“Oh,” he says. “That’s good. Or… cool. I mean—” He shakes his head as if it’ll shake his brain awake or at least dislodge the blush warming his cheeks. “I think I’m probably bi or something.”
“Cool,” Henry repeats slowly, an amused smirk curling his lip. Past that, though, is clear relief that Alex is talking again.
“Shut up.”
Henry only laughs and flicks some frosting out of Alex’s curls. “Now, forgive me, but there’s no good way to say this,” he says before seeming to brace himself. “Do you think you can unfasten your trousers for me?”
Alex chokes out a laugh, nods and starts emptying his pockets, and Henry takes his phone from him before he can check it. He turns it off and places it on the counter before doing the same with his own.
“Everything else can wait,” Henry says. He kneels by Alex’s feet to help him step out of his trousers and socks and then lets out an awkward chuckle. “Christ,” he says.
Alex nervously follows his gaze to the waistband of his own underwear. To the icing on the waistband of his underwear. He lets out a startled laugh.
“It really did get everywhere, didn’t it?” Henry looks up at him with a soft smile and taps the outside of his thigh. “Come on, let’s get you into a warm shower,” he says as he rises to his feet. “Still want me to stay?”
Alex looks away and shrugs. “If… if that’s okay. You being here is… helping.”
He feels Henry’s smile soften and forces himself to look in time to catch it. It’s worth it. Henry’s eyes are bright and beautiful despite the exhaustion and stress behind them, and his full lips fall in a natural pout, pulled up in the corners with his smile.
Henry nods easily. Then he lightly snaps Alex’s waistband against his hip. “On or off, then?”
Alex hadn’t thought that far ahead when he’d asked Henry to stay, and now he’s not sure what the right answer is. He knows he won’t feel properly clean if he leaves them on, but he doesn’t want Henry… judging or comparing or thinking he’s being pervy or—
“Come on,” Henry says softly. “Let’s just do this so we can get some rest.” He heads over to the shower and turns the water on, beckoning Alex to follow with a nod of his head. He sticks a hand under the water to test the temperature before nudging Alex under the spray, and Alex catches his wrist and brings Henry with him.
“What should we do for your hair? I’m sure I don’t have anything that will be right for your curls, but it can at least be clean.”
“Mm, you have white boy hair,” Alex says, “I wasn’t expecting anything less than fancy white people shit I can’t pronounce the name of. Whatever conditioner you have will do.” He turns to scan the bottles lined up on the shower wall and finds the conditioner just as Henry deftly swipes it off the shelf. When Alex looks at him with a raised eyebrow, Henry won’t meet his gaze.
“Will you…” he says. His brows scrunch in adorably and he juts his chin out, though he still won’t look Alex in the face. “Will you let me? I just—I thought it might help you… relax.”
“I’m okay,” Alex says a little defensively. “You don’t have to—”
“I want to,” Henry insists, and finally, big blue eyes meet Alex’s.
The determined set to his jaw and nervous edge in his eyes make the decision for him, and Alex nods. “If you’re sure.”
Henry nods decisively and gently pushes Alex’s shoulders to turn him away. He puts the bottle back down to free his hands before guiding Alex’s head under the water, gently pushing his fingers through to untangle his curls and rinse out the last remnants of cake. Alex closes his eyes and tries not to cry at how all of this with Henry is so at odds with his anxiety about the incident and the inevitable consequences.
“I’m sorry for my part in this whole mess,” Henry says quietly behind him. “I have no idea which of us actually brought it all crashing down, but we were both acting like children.”
“It was my fault, I think,” Alex says, chewing on his bottom lip as Henry works conditioner through his hair. “The crowds and—and propriety and shit stress me out, so I started drinking and then… you…”
“And then me, hm?” Henry says when he doesn’t continue. He lets out a quiet, almost self-conscious laugh. “I understand what you mean. And it was as much my fault as it was yours.”
“I am a little bit obsessed with you,” Alex admits. “You just weren’t supposed to notice.”
“I’ve always noticed you,” Henry says softly, “But I admit that I was only trying to rile you up earlier. I didn’t actually think you…”
Alex shrugs. Clears his throat. “Anyway.”
“Anyway,” Henry repeats softly. Then, “Tilt your head back for me?”
“All right,” Henry says, “I’m going to strip and finish up, and then I’ll step out and give you a minute to do the same. Sound all right?”
Alex nods and keeps his back turned until Henry steps out and has had time to wrap himself in a towel. Then he checks that Henry’s back is turned before shucking his underwear to finish washing himself. He turns off the water and grabs the other towel, cautiously joining Henry on the slightly less cakey side of the bathroom, facing a large ornate mirror. Henry turns to look at him and shifts closer to press their bare arms together. The tightness in Alex’s throat eases back again.
“How are you feeling now?”
Alex shakes his head, eyes tracing Henry’s profile in the mirror. “I don’t know. Cleaner, at least. You?”
“Hm,” Henry says. He turns to face the mirror before quickly glancing sideways at Alex again. “I’m not sure. I think I’ll taste sugary for a week.”
They dry off and get dressed—Alex in Henry’s sweatpants and hoodie and Henry just in the robe for the moment—and head back out into the bedroom.
A light knock lands against the door and Henry walks over to open it before looking back over his shoulder at Alex. “Do you mind if Shaan joins us?”
Alex slowly shakes his head, baffled at having been asked for his opinion. Henry steps back to let him in and Shaan closes the door behind himself. They have a hushed conversation by the door before Henry heads back over and starts digging through his bag on the bed for another change of clothes.
“My sister Bea and my mate Pez are looking after June and Nora,” he says, “They’re in Bea’s room down the hall.”
Alex lets out a relieved breath and nods. “Thank you.” He looks past Henry over to where his equerry stands by the door and says, “Thank you, man.”
Shaan only nods in acknowledgement.
Alex frowns and lets his gaze shift focus back to Henry. “Am I allowed to ask Shaan for a favour?”
Henry nods distractedly. “Within reason.”
Alex swallows and heads over. “Hi. Um. Do you think you could—June has my emergency anxiety meds. Could you please grab them from her for me? Please.”
Something in Shaan’s impassive expression softens. “Of course. One moment.”
“Wait!” Alex rushes out. “Um. Sorry. Just. Tell her I’m okay? She’ll worry. Since I’m asking for my meds. But. Please tell her that I’m talking and I’m fine.”
“I’ll tell her, Mister Claremont-Diaz,” he says before disappearing out into the hall.
“Why does your sister hold onto your meds for you?” Henry asks curiously, “Wouldn’t you have been better off if you’d been able to take them earlier?”
“I…” Alex doesn’t really trust himself with anything more than OTCs after finally processing the period during school when he would steal Liam’s ADHD meds, and all of the guilt and shame that came with it. Even if these ones have been approved and prescribed to him and everything, he asks June to hold onto them under the believable pretence that he’d probably lose them somewhere. “I trust June more than I trust myself,” he says vaguely.
Henry doesn’t push.
Shaan returns with Alex’s meds and a first aid kit. “Your sister would like you to know that you’re a disaster and she loves you,” he says coolly as he presses the pills into Alex’s hand.
Henry huffs out a laugh behind him, and Alex spins around to glare at him before Henry’s laugh finishes washing over him and dampens his anxiety a little more. He deflates and just tips his head back to swallow the pills dry, ignoring Henry’s teasing smile. Then he crosses the room to sit on the bed beside Henry, letting their thighs press together without any hint of shame.
The cut on Henry’s cheek looks much less angry given time for the bleeding to stop and be washed away in the shower, and while Henry relents to allowing Shaan to take a cursory look, he waves off his attempts to administer any real first aid.
“I’ve turned our phones off,” Henry tells him, “I don’t want to know anything until morning.”
“That’s probably wise,” Shaan says carefully. “Back to KP tonight?”
Henry nods. “Ideally without running into… anyone.”
Shaan nods thoughtfully. “Miss Claremont-Diaz and Miss Holleran mentioned you were supposed to head back to DC tonight,” he says, directing it at Henry as much as Alex, “Is that still the plan?”
Alex shrugs. He wasn’t sure he’d be leaving alive let alone without a thorough… reprimanding. Debriefing? Some sort of public shaming or a statement declaring war with the US.
Henry looks at Alex, searching his face with those scrunchy brows. “When you’re ready,” he says carefully, “how would you feel about coming with me, Pez and Bea to Kensington Palace for the night? June and Nora too, of course. I think it would do you well to get some rest, and then we can reevaluate in the morning.”
Alex takes a breath. His head is a foggy mess and he’s fucking exhausted, and yeah, all he wants to do is curl up where he is—on fucking Prince Henry’s bed—and sleep for a week. He lets the breath go. “Yeah. Okay.”
Henry gets dressed and then they meet June, Nora, Pez and Bea in the hallway, quietly making their way out a back entrance where Shaan ushers them all into two cars. Nora happily joins Pez and Bea, while Alex ends up comfortingly between June and Henry.
“Are we allowed to just… leave?”
“Probably not,” Henry says, “But they can shout at me tomorrow.”
Though Alex can see it’s taking everything she has, June graciously holds back most of her questions and worries even after making sure he’s really okay.
“June, I’m fine. Henry’s been with me the whole time, I’ve taken my meds, I’m fine.”
She purses her lips and Alex briefly wonders if she’s holding back comments about the fact that they’ve obviously both showered, so was he really there the whole time, or about the fact that a few hours ago, Alex and Henry supposedly hated one another. He decides he doesn’t care about any of it, just shifts closer to Henry and leans his head against a solid bicep.
Neither Henry nor June is subtle about the look they share over his head.
They pile into the guest quarters and Pez starts on tea in the kitchen while Henry shows them where everything is.
“I’m aware it’s not exactly… homey,” Henry says, heading over to help with the tea as the rest of them all settle around the kitchen table, “But you can all have your own rooms or share however you like, and…” He presses his lips together, glancing at the others before decidedly not meeting anyone’s eyes as he continues, “Alex, I’m aware you have your family now but you’re welcome to join me in my quarters if you’d like the company.”
“June, Nora, loves,” Bea says with an amused tilt to her tone, “I’m just up the hall too if either of you needs anything, and Perce knows what’s what as well.”
Pez nods their agreement as they grab a packet of biscuits from a cupboard with a flourish. They toss them across the room, where they land perfectly in Bea’s waiting hands, before picking up the tea tray and heading over. Alex stands up and gestures for Pez to take his seat, taking his mug with him to join Henry where he’s hovering in the kitchen.
“Hi,” he says.
“Alex,” Henry says. “All right?”
Alex sighs. “Yeah. Getting there.”
“I’m glad.”
“Are you… Were you serious about…”
Henry shrugs one shoulder and sips his tea. “You said earlier that my presence was helping calm you,” he says, “I’m not sure if it was me specifically or that I was the only one there, but if it would help…”
“It would,” Alex says a little too quickly. “I just… June and Nora are fucking great, but they won’t get it. Not this time. And they’re gonna have a fuck ton of questions I don’t know how to answer.”
“I’m afraid I’m in for the same the second Pez gets me alone,” Henry says with a wry smile.
There’s a knock at the door and they all freeze.
They hear a sigh, then Amy saying through the door, “Just me and Cash, kids.”
“Come in, Ames,” June calls out.
Amy pokes her head in. “Brought you three your bags,” she says. After a few nods from various members of their little group, she and Cash bring the bags in and set them down to one side. She looks up at Alex without pity or judgement or even a smidge more concern than is warranted, and he’s reminded how grateful he is for her. “How’re we doing?”
Alex shrugs, chest feeling tight until Henry’s hip presses against his, hand landing on the small of his back. He looks over, but Henry’s just quietly sipping his tea and watching over the others as if nothing is out of the ordinary.
“You’ll be okay, kid,” Amy says. “Do you want—”
Henry holds up a hand with an apologetic look already crossing his face. “Sorry. We’d like to make it until the morning without hearing anything unless it’s absolutely necessary.”
“Of course, Your Royal Highness,” she says.
“Please, just Henry is fine.”
She nods curtly and wanders over to check in with the others, and Alex smiles when Pez automatically jumps up to offer her and Cash cups of tea and biscuits.
“I like Pez.”
“Hm,” Henry says with an amused glint in his eye, “They fancy June.” He huffs out a quiet laugh as he watches them. “Nora, too, I suspect.”
“Oh,” Alex says, now watching with a new perspective. “Not that either of them needs or wants my approval, but I think I’d be cool if anything happens there.”
“Yeah?” Henry says softly, “And… what about what could happen… here?”
Alex looks up with a surprised smile. “I hope you know that I would be so uncool about this. You turn me into a fucking mess,” he says.
One corner of Henry’s mouth picks up in a smirk. “You weren’t already a mess all on your own?”
“No, I definitely am,” Alex says brightly, “But you… You just…” He trails off with a happy sigh, shaking his head and grinning. You return my insults and teasing in a way that makes my head spin. You make me crash into obscene wedding cakes and then hold me afterwards because you know I’m scared. You make me feel fucking alive and I don’t know what to do with that.
Henry bumps their hips together. “Likewise.”
Everyone is—quite uncharacteristically of the lot of them—polite enough to pretend they don’t know what’s happening when Alex and Henry linger behind as everyone else trails off to bed.
“You sure you don’t mind?” Alex asks again as they make their way to Henry’s room.
“I offered, didn’t I?” He looks sideways at Alex, and then back at where Cash is tailing them, before reaching out to take Alex’s hand. “I’m sure.”
“Okay. Cool.”
Henry rolls his eyes and tugs Alex closer by his hand. “You need sleep,” he says.
“I need so much sleep,” Alex agrees.
When they reach Henry’s room, Cash catches up and hands Alex his bag, and Alex thanks him genuinely because he’d clearly been too distracted to think of bringing it himself. Cash just rolls his eyes and waves them away from him.
As Alex closes the door behind them, Henry crosses the room and sits down heavily on the edge of the bed, closing his eyes and letting out a deep sigh.
“You okay?”
Henry looks up with a pleased but tired smile. “It’s all just slowly catching up to me, I think,” he says, “But I’m okay.”
“Promise? It’s okay if you don’t want me here.”
“I wouldn’t want you to be anywhere else,” Henry says. He looks down at the bag in Alex’s hand. “Ah, right. Would you be more comfortable in your own clothes now that you have your things?”
Alex looks down at himself and back at Henry, putting on his best offended expression to match how he feels. “No,” he says. “I hope you know I’m keeping these, by the way.”
Henry raises one eyebrow. “Oh, really?”
“Yup.” He flicks his hands so the sleeves of Henry’s hoodie fall down over his palms. “You’re tall,” he says with a pout, “I kinda like it.”
Henry rolls his eyes. “Come on. Time for bed.”
Alex smirks, but the tired look creeping over Henry’s face stops him from verbalising his teasing. Henry seems to slump in relief. He stands up and shuffles over to his dresser, opening what is apparently the wrong drawer before closing it and trying again.
He looks over his shoulder at Alex and says, “Do you mind if I…” before twisting his face into a frown and looking away.
“Hey,” Alex says, “Just ask. Honestly, whatever it is, I’ll probably be fine with it.”
“I normally sleep without a shirt. Is that… all right with you?”
“Henry, sweetheart. We just took a shower together, I think I can handle you sleeping shirtless.”
“Yes, well.” He coughs. “Quite different circumstances and all,” he says, “You don’t mind?”
Alex rolls his eyes and steps forward to tug at the hem of Henry’s t-shirt. Henry lets out a startled laugh and lifts his arms, and his grin turns into a smirk when Alex has to stand up on his toes to get it off him. He keeps his eyes on Henry’s face.
“Am I allowed to look at you?”
Henry laughs again, and wow, Alex will never get over how pretty the sound is. “Yes,” he says, “You’re very welcome to look.”
So Alex looks. He takes in softly muscled shoulders, arms and chest and is reminded that Henry plays fucking polo. His torso tapers down to a slim waist with a soft belly that Alex wants to dig his fingers into. A trail of blond hair disappears into Henry’s jeans and Alex’s eyes snap back up to his face. Expecting a smirk or some sort of teasing, he’s surprised at the soft, content look on Henry’s face.
“Cute,” Alex says.
“Oh, do shut up,” Henry says.
“Nah, I don’t think I will. Don’t think I didn’t notice how freaked out you were before when I went non-verbal.” He sort of regrets it the moment it comes out of his mouth, because, yeah, wow, he doesn’t want to think about that right now. But it’s out there, and all he can do is turn away and pretend to be taking in the details of Henry’s bedroom.
“Alex, I was scared,” Henry says behind him, “You were… I didn’t know what to do. You didn’t want June and Nora, and I… I was…”
“Sorry,” Alex says, turning back to face him but only managing to raise his eyes to Henry’s collarbone, “You did great, though, if it makes you feel any better. I don’t think even June could have pulled me out of that the way you did. I, uh. I’m really fucking grateful that you were there and that you stayed to help me through it.”
“As am I,” Henry says softly.
Alex clears his throat. “Anyway,” he says a little too forcefully. “I’m never taking this hoodie off. But do you mind if I take my pants off?” He lets the question hang in the air and watches as Henry’s eyes widen a fraction before he quickly gives in, rolling his eyes and correcting himself. “Trousers, for the British in the room who call everything the wrong name. I’ll leave my underwear on for you. Which, by the way, I’m keeping too. They’re, like, weirdly really comfy.”
Henry laughs. “Yes, sure. Whatever you want.”
Alex grins and sidles up to him, winding an arm around Henry’s bare back. “Whatever I want?”
“Hm, within reason.”
“Gotta tell ya, sweetheart, I’m not known for being very reasonable.”
“Lucky me,” Henry whispers. “Can I kiss you now, love?”
“You’d better.”
Henry leans down and presses a quick, chaste kiss to the corner of his mouth, and Alex smiles into it involuntarily. He ducks down to knock his head onto Henry’s shoulder and laughs into his skin.
“Is this real?” he asks breathlessly.
“I certainly hope so,” Henry says, curling his strong arms around Alex’s waist. “Are you gonna come back up here any time soon?”
Alex kisses the dip of Henry’s shoulder. His collarbone. The base of his neck. Under his jaw. Higher, up under his ear. He lingers over Henry’s lips, enjoying the suspense, the closeness, the shared breath. Then he pushes forward and their lips meet once, twice, and then enough times that Alex could never hope to keep count. Henry’s lips part just slightly, and Alex takes his bottom lip between his teeth.
“You taste like fucking cake,” Alex complains.
Henry lets out an abrupt but still pleasantly soft bark of laughter. “I told you, didn’t I?”
“I hate when you’re right,” Alex says. “This is gonna haunt me forever. I’ll never get to enjoy cake again.”
Henry shuts him up with another closed-mouth kiss before pulling back with a smile. “We need sleep,” he reminds him.
They brush their teeth side-by-side in Henry’s ensuite and then Henry shucks his jeans while Alex doesn’t bother pretending not to watch. He trades them for soft-looking plaid pyjama bottoms and laughs as Alex makes good on his promise and shoves Henry’s borrowed sweatpants into his own bag.
They lie down in Henry’s bed facing one another, close but not touching until Henry shifts a leg forward to slide between Alex’s. Alex takes that as permission to attach himself to Henry, bodies pressed together from their chests to their feet, arms curled around each other protectively.
“I’m scared,” Alex says into Henry’s chest.
“Me too.” He presses a kiss to Alex’s temple and lets out a soft sigh. “But we’ll get through it together. Try and get some sleep, love, and I’ll be here when you wake up.”