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Henry stumbles downstairs in his pajamas, and can already hear Alex talking to David in the kitchen. “You hungry, huh buddy? Want breakfast?”
“I do, thank you,” Henry answers with a wink. Alex looks up with a grin. He’s delightfully rumpled, in his pajamas and untied robe, glasses perched in his messy curls.
“Merry Christmas, baby,” he says, putting David’s dish on the floor and shuffling over to kiss Henry.
“Merry Christmas, darling.”
Alex stays still in Henry’s arms for a minute, enjoying the fact that they don’t have to rush off or pack or interact with a million relatives, like they have on other holidays.
The first Christmas after they moved in together, they spent Christmas Eve with Ellen and Leo and Oscar and June at the White House. Alex had been nervous about his parents fighting in front of Henry. Of course, Prince Fucking Charming had known just when to talk to each of Alex’s parents to keep them from attacking each other. Every damn time Alex started to sense them on the verge of an argument, Henry would step in with some seemingly innocuous question that distracted them and kept things calm.
For some reason, it had made Alex insanely happy and also extremely horny. He’d jumped Henry as soon as they were alone in Alex’s old bedroom.
“Who knew diplomacy was so hot,” he’d growled, yanking Henry’s pants down to thank him appropriately.
They’d spent the next Christmas in England at Sandringham, because Alex received an invitation from the Queen. (“It’s a summons, not an invitation,” Alex had insisted.) And Alex had actually done the seemingly impossible: he charmed the socks off the old bat.
“It’s either a Christmas miracle or a sign of dementia,” Henry had told Alex later, before continuing their tradition of fucking each other senseless on Christmas Eve.
But this year, they’d told both their families they were staying home, just the two of them.
Since that first Christmas they’d agreed not to spend crazy amounts of money on each other, just because they could. They could buy one expensive gift and one smaller gift, and that was enough.
Alex looks up into Henry’s face. “I made French toast.”
“I knew I smelled something amazing,” Henry says with a smile. They sit at their little kitchen table and eat french toast and fruit. Henry is drinking tea from the mug Alex bought him the year before, decorated with Alex’s smiling face and the words Best Boyfriend Ever . Even after three years of living together and sleeping together and occasionally even working together, they still love touching each other. So they play footsie under the table while they eat and talk about nothing in particular.
Once the kitchen is cleaned up, they take David’s stocking down and watch him drag all the toys and treats out of it. When he’s happily settled in his bed with a bone, Henry and Alex sit cross-legged in front of their Christmas tree with their gifts. Henry turns on some music as background noise.
“You first. Gimme,” Alex insists with a smirk.
Henry smiles, handing Alex a wrapped rectangular box. Alex rips it open, pulling out a framed picture. “Oh, my god, where did you--”
“It took a lot of work to track that down,” Henry says.
It’s a photo of them in Rio, a few feet from each other. They obviously aren’t the intended subjects and Alex’s head is a little out of focus. Henry reaches over to gently take the picture from Alex’s hands. “I’m sorry I was a prick to you that day, but I still thought it would be worth remembering.”
Tears are glistening in Alex’s eyes. “I promise I’ve forgiven you, babe.” He takes the picture back and stares down at it, nearly speechless. “I can’t believe you found this.”
“You like it?” Henry asks uncertainly.
Alex nods, biting his lip. “Of course I do.” He wipes the tears from his eyes.
Henry reaches behind him and picks up an envelope. “This is your other gift, although I don’t know if it counts because it’s not exactly for you.”
Alex takes it, curiosity and confusion on his face. “Okay.” He tears open the envelope and pulls out a letter with a vaguely familiar letterhead. He pulls his glasses out of his robe pocket. “You gave me something to read on purpose, didn’t you?” he grins at Henry, who does his best to look innocent. Alex starts reading out loud. “Your Royal...” His voice fades out as he continues. He reads through it twice before he looks up at Henry. With the paper still clenched in his hand, he tackles Henry and pins him to the ground, kissing him like they haven’t seen each other in months. He runs his hands through Henry’s hair, the letter falling from his fingers.
Alex finally lets Henry up to breathe, and they snuggle together as Alex reads the letter over and over.
Your Royal Highness,
All of us at Austin High School would like to thank you for your generous donation. Per your request, we will be announcing the Alex Claremont-Diaz Scholarship Fund at the end of the current school year. The fund will provide need-based full scholarships to two outstanding seniors from immigrant families who could not otherwise...
“I can’t believe you did this,” Alex keeps saying. Henry brushes his fingers through Alex’s hair and buries kisses in his curls. Neither of them have showered yet, and Henry closes his eyes and inhales. Alex smells like their pillows, their bedsheets, like them.
Alex finally shakes his head. “Okay, your turn.” He reaches under the tree for a little box. “I was like 99% sure I picked the right thing, but now I’m like 100% sure.”
“Just a hundred?” Henry asks.
Alex rolls his eyes. “Thousand percent. Always. And it’s two gifts in one, so…” he explains, handing the box to Henry.
Henry, of course, takes forever to unwrap the little box. “Jesus, would you just--” Alex begs, but Henry smiles at him and Alex realizes he’s doing it on purpose. “You just like to torture me,” he says with a glare.
Henry raises his eyebrows in agreement. Alex leans in for a kiss and whispers, “Open the fucking box.”
Henry sighs and finally gets the paper off, slides his thumbnail under the tape, and pries open the cardboard lid. He reaches in and pulls out a mug, just like the one he’s still drinking tea from, with Alex’s smiling face plastered on it. He turns it around and starts to say something, until he reads the print on the other side.
Best husband ever
Henry looks up at Alex, confused. Alex smiles at him, reaches over and tugs at the wad of tissue paper inside the mug. Henry pulls at the paper, revealing a ring box at the bottom.
Alex climbs into Henry’s lap. “Marry me, sweetheart,” he whispers.
And so begins their new tradition of fucking each other senseless on Christmas morning, right in front of their very own Christmas tree.