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Between the rapid pops of explosions, Alex’s Secret Service agent shoving them into a storage closet, and Henry landing on his back with Alex between his thighs, Henry has the thought that perhaps he’s just cursed. At least that would explain why he keeps ending up in incredibly compromising situations with a man who seems to… if not hate him then certainly, at minimum, strongly dislike him.
The need to be literally anywhere but underneath Alex, getting lungfuls of his cologne with every labored breath, is almost overwhelming. Alex, he realizes, is not faring any better – in fact, his shoulders are a tense line, and when Henry asks, “Santal 33?” he stiffens further.
Alex’s tone is suspicious when he asks, “Yeah?”
“Makes sense,” Henry replies faintly.
“What do you mean by that?” Alex asks, half-glaring at Henry over his shoulder.
God, this conversation couldn’t be going any worse. “It means you’ve got good taste, Alex,” Henry mutters.
“Thanks,” Alex whispers after a moment, turning back to the mop bucket.
“And why do you dislike me?” Henry demands, and god, why can’t he just stop talking? Is this really so important to hash out now, after everything that’s happened in the last twenty-four hours?
Alex recounts their first meeting, although the story is less like the panic at the sight of an attractive man that Henry recalls, and more full of hurt feelings on Alex’s end, and Henry feels like a heel. That is, until Alex makes it clear that years of outright animosity from him, and reactive acrimony from Henry, hinges on that one meeting at the climate conference.
“Don’t minimize it – ” Alex grouses.
“Oh, oh, how could I possibly?” He sits upright, glaring down at Alex, then shifts, remembering too late that he’s sore and it’s Alex’s fault. “It’s already as minimal as it gets! Are you – ” he shifts again. “Are you seriously telling me that one meeting, years ago, in which, yes, I admittedly acted ungenerously towards you, h-h-has occupied such a vast mental and emotional space in your head?”
“Okay, sure, when you put it like that – ” Alex grumbles, “ – but it was my first foray into the world as a public figure, and I was really scared, and you could’ve helped me and… you didn’t.”
Henry sits with this for a moment, guilt and grief twisting in his stomach. He heaves a sigh. “You’re right,” he says. “I’m sorry… I was a prick to you. I… it’s no excuse, but I was a prick to everyone in those days. My father had died a few months before, and the palace insisted on… parading me around.”
Alex turns back to look at him, and Henry sees him lift one hand and then put it back down as if he’s reconsidered.
Swallowing hard, Henry continues. “For the record…” he huffs a laugh. “I didn’t say get me out of here; I said ‘I need to get out of here,’ which is a different thing entirely.”
“Oh,” Alex says, all accusation gone from his tone. “Well, now I feel like I need to apologize.”
Henry shakes his head and lets it fall back against the wall behind him with a soft thump, closing his eyes. They fly back open when a large, warm palm lands on his knee, and when he turns, he sees Alex, facing him, a little closer than before.
“About last night – ” Alex begins.
“Under no circumstances are we discussing last night,” Henry replies, trying and failing to scoot away. “We decided this already.”
“You decided,” Alex says, “and last I checked, as an American I’m not required to follow your orders, Your Majesty. We fought a whole war about it.”
Agony, Henry determines, is the appropriate emotion to ascribe to this conversation. “I don’t – ”
Alex interrupts. “I just…” he makes a vague gesture with his free hand. “Are you sure you’re okay? Because… because I didn’t know what I was doing.” His voice is small. “With a guy, I mean. And you said that you never do it without condoms, so I figured you did know what you were doing, but… I don’t know. You were limping this morning, and I wanted to be sure I didn’t hurt you.”
“Physically, I’ll be fine,” Henry sighs, and then because his filter is appallingly absent, he adds, “Emotionally, I may never recover.”
Something vulnerable flashes across Alex’s face. “Was it… bad?” he asks in that same small, insecure tone.
Henry laughs. “‘Was it bad,’ he says. Alex, you made me come like a freight train without ever touching my prick once you were inside me. The sex was fantastic, and that’s the problem.”
Alex’s brows draw together in confusion. “How is that — ” he begins.
“Because,” Henry continues, “I came that hard from being hate-fucked by a straight man who would never have touched me without some fae houseplant dosing him with enough aphrodisiac to make a corpse horny,” he groans, rubbing a hand down his face.
Alex’s grip on Henry’s thigh tightens as he shifts impossibly closer. When Henry turns to look at him again, Alex is right there, close enough that Henry can smell the breath mint he’d eaten in the car. Alex’s mouth turns up at one corner. “So, I feel like I probably need to clarify this, but… I’m not completely straight,” he admits, a pretty pink flush spreading on his cheeks.
“What?” Henry can hear his pulse in his ears, and the warmth from Alex’s body buffets his left side where they’re pressed together from shoulder to shin.
“Also, you know what bums me out about last night?” Alex asks, and Henry braces himself for devastation. Alex’s gaze drops to Henry’s mouth. “I never kissed you. Hatefucking or not, your lips are really pretty, and — ”
Henry viscerally needs Alex to stop talking, so he does the only thing he can think of to stop Alex from continuing this sentence — he shuts him up with his mouth. It’s immediately the worst, best decision Henry’s ever made. He’d been right — he’s devastated... by Alex’s admission, by Alex’s soft sound of surprise that’s muffled by the kiss, by the way Alex’s hand slides up his thigh —
Alex’s lips are warm and pliant beneath his, and he tastes like the breath mint and lip balm. As Henry inhales sharply, trying to commit this sensory delight to memory, Alex kisses him back, and any hope Henry’s got of ever getting over this stupid, irrational infatuation is obliterated with the first sweep of Alex’s tongue. The best he can hope for, now, is that Alex never finds out.
Henry feels the growing urge to shove Alex away and run to protect this closely guarded secret, and only the tenuous grasp he has on his senses reminds him that they’re not in the hospital’s supply closet for fun. There’s nowhere to go, and he’s trapped here, and —
“Hey, are you okay?”
Distantly, Henry realizes that they’re no longer kissing, that Alex has pulled back and is looking at him in concern. He squeezes his eyes shut and shakes his head. “Sorry, I — ” he gasps, his breathing labored. “Sorry.”
“Don’t be, god. Was it something I did?” Alex asks, and his clothes rustle as he fidgets uncomfortably. “I know I can be a lot, and I have a habit of moving fast once I figure out what I want, and — ” The mop bucket clatters as Alex fidgets again.
Henry takes a steadying breath and opens his eyes. Alex is looking away from him, his brows drawn together, and Henry detachedly watches his own hand as it slides over to take Alex’s.
Alex’s gaze flies back to Henry’s and he swallows audibly. “Did I fuck this up?” he asks quietly, clutching at Henry’s hand like a lifeline.
Shaking his head, Henry replies, “No. No, I did, I think.” He sighs. “Sorry. It’s been…”
“A weekend?” Alex suggests.
“A lifetime is more like it,” Henry mutters. He runs his hand through his hair and gives Alex a once-over, noting that the worry is gone from his expression and his grip on Henry’s hand has loosened slightly. “Don’t suppose you’d like to circle back to the part where you mentioned you want me, do you?” he asks with a wry smile.
“You caught that, huh?” Alex chuckles, rubbing the back of his neck with his free hand. “Yeah, turns out I’m into you even without your great uncle’s pervert plant. Which, by the way, I researched like crazy last night, and I swear to god it doesn’t exist.”
“That seems unlikely,” Henry says, “unless we both suffered some sort of spontaneous hallucination.” But a smile is creeping onto his face because Alex wants him.
“Mm-hmm,” Alex agrees. He’s slowly leaning in toward Henry again, gaze flicking between Henry’s eyes and mouth, and Henry holds his breath, waiting. Then Alex pauses, and with a contemplative expression, asks, “You wouldn’t happen to be interested in throwing some of your mountains of colonizer money into cryptobotanical research, would you?”
Henry huffs out a laugh. “Somehow doubt the Crown would approve me allocating funds for that.”
“What, they don’t want to pay for research into the plant that got you railed until you couldn’t walk straight?” Alex asks, grinning.
Matching his tone, Henry replies, “I’ll have you know I’ve never walked straight a day in my life,” shocking himself with his confidence.
Alex laughs in surprise, his face split wide by a toothy smile that crinkles his eyes at the corners, and a single dimple appears on his left cheek. Henry, feeling resignedly fond, takes a quiet breath in through his nose, then presses his right palm to that dimple and kisses Alex again.
This time, the kiss is slower and less frantic, and the bubbling anxiety that Henry had felt before doesn’t resurface. He rubs his left thumb over the back of Alex’s hand and Alex turns his wrist, interlacing their fingers. Henry realizes, gradually, that this may be the first time he’s ever taken his time to explore how a partner likes to be kissed.
He learns in short order that Alex prefers it when Henry focuses his attention on his lower lip, that brushing his mouth over Alex’s cheekbones makes him shiver, and that scraping his teeth lightly — forever mindful of the press outside — over the spot on Alex’s neck just below his ear makes him climb into Henry’s lap.
Which is where he’s currently sprawled, arms draped around Henry’s shoulders, sucking on the tip of Henry’s tongue. “You’re a great kisser,” Alex says when they part for breath. “I knew you would be.”
“Think about it a lot?” Henry asks as he strokes a hand down Alex’s back and then up under his blazer.
“Every thirty seconds or so since last night,” Alex mutters, and Henry feels his face flush. Alex tugs at Henry’s tie and undoes the first button of his shirt. “Less frequently before that, but… still happened.”
Henry’s hands still Alex’s when he reaches for a second button. “We’re in public,” he reminds him, and Alex shakes his head.
“I know,” he says. “I want to mark you somewhere your shirt will hide.”
The soft sound that tears from Henry’s throat in response is one that he doesn’t recall having ever made while mostly clothed. Henry’s hands fall away, landing on Alex’s thighs, and he nods. “My mistake,” he murmurs. “Have at.”
Alex chuckles and undoes the second button, then sweeps the fabric away from Henry’s upper chest and left collarbone. He gives Henry a considering look, then shifts onto his knees so he’s fully straddling Henry’s lap. As Alex’s mouth descends on his again, Henry ponders briefly whether he’s having some sort of out-of-body experience, and then Alex’s groin nestles up against his, their cocks aligning through their trousers and sending a hot thrum of want through his body.
Henry reflexively kicks out with one leg, his foot connecting with the door. The sound cuts through the fog of lust in Henry’s mind and he shoves at Alex’s shoulders, breaking the kiss. “We have to stop,” he says regretfully. “Security could be back at any moment, and the hospital is surrounded by reporters. We don’t need more viral news stories published about us.”
Alex gives one subtle rock of his hips, then sighs. “I hate that you’re right, you know that.”
“I hate that I’m right, too,” Henry assures him. “Now get up. I need to read the ingredients on a bottle of sanitizer so I’m not hard when my PPOs let us out of here.”
Alex climbs to his feet and offers Henry a hand up. Henry gives him a grateful little smile, dusts off his clothing reflexively, then seeks out a bottle at random and picks it up. He gets as far as “do not use in eyes” before his mind wanders back to the man standing next to him, the weight of him, the press of his cock, the heat of his mouth. He’s staring, and he blinks and turns his focus back to the fine print on the bottle. This time he makes it one more line. Alex shifts on his feet next to him, and Henry sighs.
He sets the sanitizer back on the shelf. “Bar the door,” he says, and Alex gleefully complies, shoving a mop behind the handle. “Undo your trousers.”
Alex’s belt buckle clinks loudly in the stillness of the room, and when he unzips and Henry drops to his knees before him, Alex’s gulp is audible as well. “This is not how I envisioned today going,” he breathes, wonderment evident in his tone when Henry pulls at the waistband of his pants until his cock is free. When Henry gazes up at him as he kisses along the underside of his shaft, Alex shudders and lifts a hand, lightly cupping the back of Henry’s head.
“I need you to focus on coming as quickly as you can,” Henry says before he descends. As he takes Alex into his mouth, his tongue finds and maps out the places that make Alex shudder and moan, and Alex’s hand tightens in the back of his hair.
“Not gonna be a problem,” Alex mutters. “I was worried I was – ohshit – going to embarrass myself, to be honest – ” he bites off a little moan, and the salt of his precum hits Henry’s tastebuds.
Henry hums around him, never breaking eye contact, knowing he must make an obscene picture for Alex – here on his knees, still fully dressed in his double-breasted suit, his face flushed, his lips stretched wide around Alex’s prick, a little bit of drool escaping the corner of his mouth. He slurps softly around Alex’s shaft, and can’t help the moan that resonates around Alex as his lips brush against Alex’s pubic hair.
“Fuck,” Alex mutters, staring down at Henry with pupils blown wide. Henry curls a hand around the base of his shaft and works the tip, setting a quick pace with plenty of tongue, pulling out every trick in his arsenal to drive Alex absolutely feral with want.
When Alex starts to tense under his ministrations, Henry pulls back just long enough to murmur, “You can come in my mouth,” feeling bold and reckless for it despite having just seen his clean bill of health this morning and been fucked raw by him last night. Henry presses the heel of his hand against his prick, grinding against it as he swallows Alex down again. He jerks the base of his cock quickly, sucking at the head until Alex’s mouth falls open and he pulses against Henry’s tongue, flooding Henry’s mouth with the bitter tang of his cum. Alex never looks away, not once.
Henry releases him and licks up a stray dribble along the side of his shaft, then tucks him back into his pants and does back up his fly. When Alex tugs him to his feet, he’s not sure what he’s expecting, but it certainly isn’t for Alex to lick into his mouth, tasting his own cum and groaning against his lips. Henry grinds against his thigh, and Alex asks. “How do you want…?”
“Wank me off,” Henry murmurs into Alex’s mouth. “I’m close already; won’t take much.” He unbuttons his jacket to get it out of the way, then undoes his belt and his trousers, and Alex’s hand snakes into the fly of his boxers, pulling out his prick.
Alex shuffles to the side and cups Henry’s jaw with his free hand, turning his head and continuing to plunder his mouth with his tongue. He releases Henry’s cock for a moment, bringing his hand up to their mouths, and turns to lick a broad stripe up his palm. As he moves his hand back down, Henry catches it, licking it himself for good measure, and he watches Alex’s nostrils flare in response. “You,” Alex says, “are going to be trouble.”
“Up for it?” Henry breathes, his eyes alight, and his breath hitches as Alex kisses him again, fiercely, wrapping his saliva-slick hand around Henry’s shaft and setting a quick, staccato rhythm.
“Absolutely,” Alex murmurs when they part again. He rests his forehead against Henry’s. “Need you to come quickly, too.”
“Keep it up and you – ” Henry breaks off to groan into Alex’s mouth. “ – you won’t have an issue,” he says, shuddering in Alex’s grip. When Alex’s thumb plays with his foreskin on the next upstroke, Henry’s prick twitches in his hand and he gasps. “M’close already.”
“I want to watch,” Alex says, pulling away, but he doesn’t look down. Henry realizes suddenly that Alex intends to watch his face when he comes, and he moans helplessly and does just that, lips parted, eyes wide.
Alex carefully guides Harry backward until he’s leaned against the wall of the storage closet, then gives him a salacious grin and licks his hand clean. The strangled sound that Henry makes at the sight might not be fully human. When Alex’s hand is free of any lingering traces of cum, he leans into Henry’s space and gives him a smacking kiss on the mouth, then reaches down to tuck him away and fasten his trousers and belt. He replaces the mop in its bucket, settles back on the floor, and pats the space next to him.
Henry sinks down on wobbly legs and gives Alex a small smile.
When Amy bursts in a few minutes later to declare that the threat (a small child with fireworks) has been neutralized (concerning), he feels as though he’s mostly regained his equilibrium. He and Alex meander, loose-limbed toward a nearby hospital lavatory to fix their hair and wash their hands. Alex offers him a breath mint and a cheeky smile, and Henry rolls his eyes, accepting the mint.
Alex pops a second mint into his own mouth.
If they gravitate toward one another more frequently during the latter half of their visit to the hospital than during the first half, the patients and staff are none the wiser.
When Alex leaves for the airport, Henry immediately texts Pez and asks about funding for a strange botany project.
(Pez is all in at the word “strange.”)