Archive of Our Own ^beta

"Did you know we broke up?" Alex says the moment Henry picks up the call.

There's a long pause, and then a careful-sounding "What?"

In retrospect, maybe that's kind of an alarming way to greet your boyfriend, especially at — Alex glances at the time — a really late hour in England, oops. "I mean, listen to this." Alex puts him on speaker and taps over to the article to read it out loud.

Rumours of a suspected break-up between Prince Henry and Alex Claremont-Diaz surfaced during the past week. Prince Henry is gracing Kensington Palace with his presence — a welcome change given his recent penchant for extended stretches in the colonies — and a source close to the palace reports there's been no sight nor word of FSOTUS.

The Swedish diplomatic visit, meanwhile, is receiving plenty of very personal attention from Prince Henry. The queen's youngest grandson is reportedly getting all kinds of friendly with Princess Ingrid. Across the pond, Alex Claremont-Diaz has been seen with his former girlfriend…

"Wow," Alex editorializes. "I guess we can't spend a few days apart without turning straight."

He hears rustling as Henry turns in bed, and something that might be a cat purring. "You really need to stop googling your name."

"And yours," Alex corrects before he realizes that doesn't exactly help his case. "Look, at least I don't have Google alerts set up anymore."

Henry sighs, but it's more amused than exasperated. "An astonishingly low bar, but I guess I'll take it."

"Did I wake you up?" Alex asks belatedly. "Or are you just eating candy in bed?"

"I wasn't asleep," Henry replies, which means yes to the candy.

"Then I have a very important question for you."

"Is it still about breaking up? Because I think that could wait until the morning."

"Nope, you're stuck with me, even if I have to duel Princess Ingrid. I think I can take her, but I'm making Shaan my second."

"I don't think that's necessary," Henry says, but he sounds a little pleased. "Let's hear your question, then."

Alex throws himself back on his pillows. "What are you wearing?"

Henry snorts. "Cat hair, mostly."

Alex hums in consideration. "Okay, not my kink, but I can work with it."

That finally manages to get a huff of laughter out of Henry. Alex smiles at his phone. Then there's more rustling and some unhappy cat noises. "Let me get rid of Mr Wobbles first. I'm not doing this with my sister's cat watching."

"What if he's the source close to the palace? Let him report that the romance isn't dead."

Henry apologizes to the cat and closes his door. "If he is, we're all doomed. And no."

Alex sprawls more comfortably on his bed. "Then should we record it and leak a sex tape?"

"Not if you don't want to get assassinated in the dead of night for disgracing the crown."

"You never let me have any fun," Alex complains as Henry gets back in bed with a faint creak of bedsprings. "At least put me on speaker. Let's make it good for the spies."

He can practically hear Henry's eyes rolling. "Stop talking, unless it's to get me off."

Alex grins and relents.

*

It's a rare lazy night at their (well, Henry's) Brooklyn brownstone when Alex's unhealthy googling habit strikes gold.

He's lying across the bed with his head on Henry's thigh, which gives Henry a great view of Alex choking on a laugh as he scrolls through the news. Henry puts his book away and makes a questioning sound.

"This is my new favorite," Alex says, sticking the Onion page on his screen in Henry's face.

"First Son Of America With Royal Buns In The Oven," Henry reads out, ending on a snort.

"We're very happy it's twins," said Alex Claremont-Diaz after the announcement. "We were hoping for at least two. The plan is that one will be born in Washington, and the other in England." When asked if that's a long-term plan to usurp power in both places, the FSOTUS replied, "We just don't want to favor one over the other," and gave the reporter a wink. Prince Henry attended the press conference looking tired but determined. And no wonder, since according to Alex Claremont-Diaz, their work is just beginning. "There's fifty states in the U.S., and Henry tells me that Wales is like, a whole 'nother country."

"That's… ambitious," Henry comments, poking Alex in the side. "Why am I learning this from The Onion?"

"I'd have told you, darling, but it's news to me, too. But why is it me getting knocked up?" Alex muses, then beams up at Henry's raised eyebrow. "I mean, there are the child-bearing hips, but just looking at the frequency, it's more likely that I'll be putting buns in the royal oven."

"And yet, still no heirs." Henry heaves a sigh. "How shall the kingdom cope without me padding the end of the succession line?"

Alex turns towards him, pressing his cheek to Henry's plaid pajama pants, and reaches up to play with the hem of Henry's T-shirt. "Are you saying I should try harder?"

"That was easy," Henry says, then sucks in his stomach when Alex slides his fingers under the fabric.

"What can I say? I like it when you talk the line of succession." Alex considers it for a moment. "Well, maybe I just like it when you talk."

"More like you like it when you talk," Henry counters, and he's not completely wrong.

Alex grins and drags a light touch along the waistband of Henry's pajamas. "Maybe. So, shall we?"

Henry shifts down his pillows. "I suppose it is our duty."

"I suppose it is," Alex agrees. He pushes up on his elbow to press his lips to Henry's side, where his pajama shirt is riding up in invitation. "I can try to make it quick, if you like?"

"No, no, we shouldn't half-arse it," Henry protests, making Alex smile against his skin. He always gets a kick out of Henry saying arse. "This is important state business, after all."

Alex nods solemnly. "Then I'll apply the utmost care," he promises, tugging loose the string of Henry's pants, "and you can just lie back and think of England."

*

It's hard not to notice that Alex Claremont-Diaz's latest visit to England coincides with the anniversary of Prince Philip's engagement. Should we expect a similar announcement from the younger prince?

The texting keeps Alex busy on the way from the plane to Kensington Palace, and he only unglues his eyes from the screen when it's time to step out of the car and into Henry's waiting arms.

"Okay, two things," Alex mumbles into their kiss hello.

Henry blinks as he pulls back. "What?"

"First, we need two champagne fountains at our wedding party."

"I… think that can be arranged," Henry says slowly.

"Awesome. And two, we can have a cake fight if it's our own stupidly big cake, right? I mean, it's tradition."

Henry huffs a laugh. "I don't think one time counts as tradition."

"But symbolism!" Alex insists, gripping the lapels of Henry's sensibly boring jacket. "The cake fight—"

"It wasn't exactly a cake fight—"

"—was the start of everything, so we need an even better cake fight at the start of… the new thing. The rest of our lives or whatever."

Henry sighs like he's greatly inconvenienced by Alex's amazing wedding-planning skills, but he sounds fond when he says, "Okay."

"Yeah?"

"Yes." Then it's like the fake exasperation melts off Henry's face, leaving behind a soft smile. "Yes," he repeats with more weight behind it.

Alex's lips stretch into an answering grin. "Great," he replies, and pulls Henry's face down to seal it with a kiss.