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The thing about Brooklyn is that it’s the first time either Alex or Henry actually get to live with someone they’re dating. Neither of them have, truthfully, really had a serious relationship before.
In his mind, Alex conceptualized something much more intimate, romantic. The two of them – and David, of course – living alone together. Cozy mornings and coffee and getting to sleep next to each other every night – maybe with David at the foot of the bed. Getting to be normal people.
Except they’re not normal people. Alex is (for the next four years, at least) still the First Son of the United States of America, and Henry is still a bonafide prince of the United Kingdom. They can’t, as much as they may want to, shrug off security detail indefinitely and live like normal people their age.
But they can have cozy mornings and coffee. They can sleep next to each other every night, with David trying to hog half the bed (as it turns out, he can’t be contented with the foot of the bed).
Maybe it’s soon, to go from long distance to living together like this, but jumping in headfirst is kind of Alex’s thing, and Henry doesn’t seem to have any objections. Hell, Henry was the one to buy the townhouse (though he’s made it clear – at the time and since – that Alex does not have to live with him; Alex wants to).
The main compromise they have to make is security detail on the first floor. Henry, being just a little bit more practical than Alex, had already considered this, so the delay in renovations isn’t as long as it might otherwise be.
Amy and her wife move in to the first floor, to a private apartment, which leaves the top two floors for Alex, Henry, and David. It isn’t anything obscene; nothing like Kensington. They have a living room, kitchen, bedroom, study, and two bathrooms.
The furniture is new, not cheap (but not extravagant), and mostly what they’ve picked out over Skype together. Henry made sure to ask Alex his opinion on everything, even which food dish to buy David. Nothing about it is stuffy; it all has that Henry touch that Alex loves so much, though there’s definitely enough of Alex throughout the apartment, too.
It’s much nicer than how anyone else their age lives, and a part of Alex longs for a shitty apartment above a Popeyes shared with half a dozen people he barely knows – and Henry – sharing a twin bed in a room the size of a shoebox, all the furniture old, thrifted, and repurposed. No security detail, no secret service, no restrictions.
Just young adulthood and stupid decisions and community.
He knows, though, that this is the trade-off to having his mother in the Oval Office, the trade-off to being with Henry (who will always be a prince), and when he thinks about living in a world where his mother isn’t President, where he’s not with Henry…
The choice is simple.
He’d make the same choice every time.
Even if it means he misses out on some of the trademark rites of passage of young adulthood in the city.
Living with Henry is enough.
The first night together in the brownstone, they do manage to partake in one rite of passage for young adults in New York: they order pizza.
For logistical reasons, it’s a whole process, and technically Amy places the order, and the second floor does not have an outside entrance, so Amy is the one to bring it to them, but it’s still hot and delicious and it’s the thought that counts.
It’s really a testament to how much Alex loves Henry that – well, like a normal person, Alex grabs a slice out of the box, folds it, and shoves it in his mouth. Henry makes that face he makes when Alex does something he thinks is disgusting but endearing.
And then Henry goes to the pantry, gets out a plate, grabs a knife and fork out of the drawer, and proceeds to cut his pizza into little slices like a child.
Alex ignores David resting just pitifully at their feet (won’t someone please think of the dog and give him scraps? Alex knows better than to fall for that trick, and besides, David eats some ridiculously fancy dog food. Pizza is a step down) and stares Henry down.
“What?” Henry asks after he eats a tiny morsel of pizza off his fork.
“Haven’t you ever had pizza before?” Alex asks.
Henry furrows his brows. It’s adorable. “I’m not sure what you mean.”
“Why’d you cut it up like that?”
“So I don’t get grease all over my hands?”
Alex huffs and rolls his eyes. “But that’s the best part!”
“I’ll have to take your word for that.”
“Is this, like, a Henry thing, a Royal thing, or a British thing?”
“I can’t speak for the general population, but I rather think it’s a normal way to eat pizza.”
Alex pulls out his phone. He knows how to settle this. He opens the group chat.
Alex: poll: what’s the correct way to eat pizza
Alex: or normal way i guess
Alex: whatever
Henry checks his phone. “Must you?”
Alex grins. “You already know the answer to that, baby.”
His phone vibrates. Henry didn’t text, so it must be someone else.
Nora: what kind of pizza?
Alex: just regular new york style
Nora: fold a slice in half and bite into it
June: or just bite into it
Pez: you don’t cut it?
Henry: Thank you, Pez.
Alex: no i don’t cut it because i’m not a psycho
Henry: I don’t want to get grease on my hands!
Alex: exactly what a psycho would say
A week after they move in together, Alex and Henry go to the park around the corner. Amy isn’t far, of course; she’s never far, but they at least have the illusion of independence. Henry walks David on a leash.
Living with a dog has been a little bit more of an adjustment than Alex is totally willing to admit. But he likes David, even if the beagle does have a habit of trying to crawl in between Alex and Henry at night. It’s not like Alex thinks David has a grudge against him. He knows better.
But it’s pretty obvious that it’s an adjustment for David, too.
This is a public park, a dog park, and David seems excited to meet other dogs.
“Has he ever actually been around other dogs before?” Alex asks.
“Er, not really, no,” Henry says with a shrug. “Not since I got him, at least.”
Alex knows David likes other animals. He was friends with Bea’s cat. Sometimes, when they facetime Bea, she puts Mr. Wobbles on to say hello. Alex is doubtful how effective this is. David seems to like it, but David seems to like most things.
They pass a labrador, whom David greets in what Alex assumes is a polite manner for a dog: pausing to wag tails and sniff butts. The labrador’s owner smiles at them, and then comes the look.
The “wait, where do I know you from?” look.
Alex is used to the look. He knows Henry is, too.
But the labrador’s owner shakes her head, and says, “Do you mind if I get a picture of your dog for my page? He’s adorable.”
Alex looks to Henry – David is Henry’s dog, after all.
Henry shrugs. “Not at all.”
The labrador’s owner pulls out a camera – a nice one – and snaps a picture of David. “What’s his name?”
“David,” Henry says. Alex is mostly used to it by now, but here, in this situation, he’s still kind of struck by what a stupid-sounding name David is for a dog. Like, sure, he’s named after Bowie (and that’s cool), but… David.
David looks up at Henry and wags his tail; Henry reaches down and pets him and engages in some truly embarrassing puppy talk.
“It’s his dog,” Alex says. “I didn’t get a say in the name.”
“But you love him,” Henry challenges.
“Yeah, but I still don’t think I would have named him David.”
Henry rolls his eyes. David licks his hand. “It’s better than Mr. Wobbles.”
Alex snorts. “Anything is better than Mr. Wobbles.” He reaches down to pet David, too. “I think even David would agree with that.”
Alex takes Henry out to some hole in the wall diner to celebrate submitting his law school applications (he might be the President’s son, and he might have good grades and a good LSAT score, but there’s no guarantee, so he applied to a few around the city).
The diner comes highly recommended from one of the volunteers at Henry’s shelter. Amy sits in the next booth with Henry’s security detail.
Alex orders a stack of pancakes with a side of bacon, and watches with delight as Henry does the same. They drink coffee and bullshit until their order comes out.
June and Nora are coming down next weekend, and Pez is trying to fly in, too. Bea can’t make it (some prior engagement that she can’t get out of), but she’s offered to be on FaceTime the entire time, which is almost as good.
But he does feel a pang of something when he spots a group of people around his age find a table together. He can tell they’re friends, and something about them registers to him as not straight, somehow. Henry follows his gaze.
“I think Pez would love it here.”
Alex laughs in spite of himself. He can see it. “I think you’re right.”
“I’ve been sort of coming up with an informal list of everywhere I think our friends would like.”
He’s lucky to have Henry. “Where else?”
Henry pulls out his phone. And then he stops. “Er. Well, I do have a list, but I think you should see this first.”
It’s an Instagram post. Of David.
nyc.dogs David, Brooklyn. “He loves going for walks around the neighborhood and meeting new people – and dogs.”
“Well, you did tell her she could post it.”
“I know,” Henry says. “I’m not angry, it’s just – it’s strange, seeing David getting attention in his own right. Not that he doesn’t deserve it.”
Alex can relate. And, well, one day, he might not be remembered as President Claremont’s son, but Henry will always be a prince. “What if you made David his own Instagram?” he asks.
“What?”
“I mean, like, not an official B-R-F one, but just, like, David the beagle. Show the world how cute he is.”
Henry laughs. “Maybe I will.”
Alex reaches across the table and kisses him. He loves Henry so much he could burst. Sometimes he can’t believe that this is his life – he’s applied to law school and living with a man who loves Alex as much as Alex loves him. In New York, though, that’s really just a bonus.
He’d probably be happy to live anywhere with Henry.
Because they all have such weird schedules, it takes until midway through March for Alex and Henry to have everyone over. Pez has stopped by before. And June. And Nora. And Bea. And even their moms, on separate occasions, and Alex’s dad a couple times.
Their parents won’t be coming tonight. This is pretty explicitly a friends-only thing.
Namely because they’re going to be getting stupid drunk and acting in ways their parents would never approve of.
They’ve been stocking up on liquor for a couple weeks. It isn’t really that either of them care if Amy knows, or if anyone finds out that they’ve bought so much, but it’s more that one or both of them will be out, see something that looks good, and buy a few bottles. They’ve also gotten a lot of fancy juices and sodas for Bea, because there’s really nothing worse than being forced to drink water while everyone around you has more choices.
Alex takes the liberty of ordering pizza, because he has the best taste (and, okay, Nora confirms that his favorite pizza place is the best in their neighborhood, which is really just vindication).
By the time the pizza comes, they’re all (except for Bea) pretty drunk, and Pez has just downloaded a karaoke app on his phone. They take turns singing while eating and drinking. Alex isn’t even too horrified by the way Pez and Bea and Henry insist on cutting pizza up.
Nora is, and it’s only after some extensive prodding that she gets all three of them to eat pizza the right way. Alex doesn’t even care when Henry grabs his face with both hands covered in pizza grease to kiss him.
At some point, Bea starts making David do all kinds of tricks that Alex didn’t even know he could do, and Nora and June collapse in a pile on the floor with Pez, giggling.
Sometimes, Alex still can’t believe that this is his life. That he has friends, even if they all live hours away. That maybe he’s not a total failure of a young adult – at least not socially. He’s always been pretty successful academically. But now… the group chat isn’t enough, especially on nights like these when he’s reminded how fucking amazing it is to get everyone together in person, but… he knows how lucky he is to have these people in his life at all.
Summer in New York isn’t half as hot as Texas, and it isn’t really even as muggy as D.C. (which yeah, okay, building a city on a swamp has never been the greatest idea for the summer months, but the assholes who designed them usually also had summer houses in cooler places they could fuck off to). The brownstone has central A/C, so Alex really isn’t fazed, even when the temperature starts climbing.
Henry, however…
Henry can’t handle hot weather whatsoever.
Logically, Alex knows it makes sense.
It never really gets that hot in England, and New York is swampy and humid in a way that a lot of places just fucking aren’t (again: except D.C.). Alex remembers how fucking shocked he was by how oppressive the humidity was during his first summer in D.C., so he sympathizes with Henry’s discomfort.
Even if he does take a weird kind of perverse pleasure in Henry’s reaction to his continued outdoor jogging. Henry invests in a Peloton and a treadmill, which he has set up in the fully air conditioned spare room.
“It’s too hot to run outside,” Henry says.
“Sounds to me like you just can’t handle it,” Alex says. It’s a challenge. Henry knows it’s a challenge.
“Alex, I love you, but I’m not going to suffer heatstroke to prove you wrong.”
Alex shrugs. “So you can’t handle it?”
Henry rolls his eyes. “If that’s what you need to tell yourself. I’ll join you when it cools down.”
Alex leans in and kisses him. “That better be a promise.”
“Of course it is.”
He doesn’t really blame Henry. Not really. He knows if he were from, like, Oregon or Montana or whatever, he would probably be just as fucked in this weather. But he’s not.
He keeps taking David on runs, though. He brings an extra bottle of water and a little collapsible dog bowl, and even buys little booties for when the sidewalk gets too hot (which only happens for a few days in the worst part of summer; Alex doesn’t run far on those days, because, much as Henry may joke, he does not actually want to get heatstroke. He can see the headlines now.)
Summer evenings are the best, though. He and Henry watch TV or a movie, curled up on the couch in the air conditioning. Sometimes they go out for ice cream. They start a competition on who can find the best ice cream. Henry wins.
Alex knows he has to savor this, because law school is fucking intense. It won’t be anything he can’t handle, but still. He won’t have as much time to spend with Henry and David.
It’ll be worth it.
After his second day of classes at NYU, Alex stops at some bougie bakery on the way home and picks up a package of ridiculously overpriced dog biscuits for David. He cleared it with Henry, of course, because David is still Henry’s dog, no matter how much he’s become a part of their shared life together. He knows better than to deviate from David’s meticulously-planned, expensive diet without asking.
But Henry said this was all right, so Alex thinks it’s fine.
When he gets home, he gives David one of the biscuits and snaps a picture. As he’s sending the picture to Henry, he catches David trying to sneak into the bag to get another.
Henry was right: David really is a Slytherin.
(Though Alex still thinks he’s right that Henry’s a Hufflepuff, not a Ravenclaw as he so steadfastly insists).
Alex locks the rest of the treats away in the pantry before he goes upstairs to change into running clothes.
When he gets back down, he puts David’s harness on him, and takes him for a run.
His plan, as far as he has one, is to visit Henry at the shelter for just a few minutes, then run back to haul ass on his homework.
But he does need to clear his head after his classes, and David is a surprisingly good running partner.
He’s almost to the shelter, and cooling down, when someone recognizes him.
He’s the First Son of the United States of America. He’s an official Royal Suitor, and his boyfriend is a fucking Prince of England. He’s no stranger to getting recognized.
He’d prefer not to be sweaty in workout clothes, but that’s never stopped anyone before.
Except… when the person asks to get a picture, and Alex reluctantly agrees (he doesn’t look shitty, and it’s obvious he’s just gone for a run), they focus their phone on David.
“I’ve kind of been obsessed with your Instagram,” the person says.
David’s account has a few thousand followers, so, like, it isn’t completely unheard of, but also… Alex really doesn’t know how a stranger can pick David out from any other beagle on the street.
“Thanks,” Alex says. “My boyfriend and I both manage it, so I can’t take full credit.”
“Well, it’s great. David is great. Like, he’s the cutest beagle I think I’ve ever seen.”
Alex leans down and scratches David behind his ears. “Don’t let it get to your head,” he tells him.
The person laughs.
“Not to be a dick, but… how did you know it was him?” Alex asks. Because he has to. Because David’s account is supposed to be mostly anonymous (even if Bea and Nora and Pez follow it; June respected their boundaries).
“Oh, easy. His collar. Plus, he’s had pictures next to your sneakers before. So I thought it was a good bet.”
Oh. Thank god. “My boyfriend went all out on his collar. Glad to see it paid off.”
“It definitely did.”
He talks to the person for another minute or so, allows them to pet David, and then excuses himself (and, more importantly, David).
When he gets to the shelter, he tells Henry, “You’ll never guess who got recognized on the way here.”
“If I have to hear you brag about how sexy you are in workout clothes… I already know.”
Alex grins and kisses his cheek. “I am, but it wasn’t me. It was David. I don’t think the person even knew who I was.”
“That must’ve been a massive blow to your ego,” Henry quips.
Eventually, it becomes impossible to deny. Amy is the one who brings it up, when Alex is on his way to class one morning. It’s still pretty early in his semester, but law school is intense as fuck.
“I think David needs a friend.”
At first, Alex isn’t sure what she means. “He has Henry. And me. And you and Julia.”
“I know,” Amy says. “But I think between your schedules… maybe it might not be a bad idea.”
“Do you mean, like, a petsitter, or another animal?” Vetting someone to petsit David would be fucking insane. It’s a miracle that Amy and Julia like dogs as much as they do. It’s not exactly a requirement.
“I’m not an expert.” Like Alex doesn’t know that; like he expects her to be. “But wasn’t he friends with Bea’s cat?”
Alex has to admit that she has a point. He promises to bring it up to Henry that night.
Which he does, while they’re sitting on the front stoop with David waiting on their Chinese food to get delivered. He does it without preamble, because this is Henry. “Amy said she thinks David needs a friend. Like he might miss Mr. Wobbles even more now that I’m not home all day.”
Henry looks at David, calls him over to scratch him behind his ears. “Have you been lonely with Alex at school?” he asks in that ridiculous (and, admittedly, endearing) voice he uses for David.
David licks him and wags his tail.
Henry turns to Alex. “It might not be a bad idea. What’s the best way to get a new pet in New York?”
“I’ve looked up some shelters nearby with good reputations.” Which he did, on his way back from class. Alex knew he needed to be prepared for this conversation, and he also realized that it was entirely likely that Henry had never actually adopted a pet like a normal person before. He’s known for a while that David came from a reputable breeder, and while money isn’t an issue for them, time kind of is.
So that leaves shelters.
“All right,” Henry agrees. “We’ll call them tomorrow. Should we bring David along?”
“I think so. Everything I’ve read online said to bring any existing dogs to make sure they get along.”
David walks down to the front step to sit on his own. Alex, personally, kind of hopes that they can give their new, joint pet a better name. Not that there’s anything wrong with naming an animal after Bowie, but… well, David is a people name. Not a dog name.
“I don’t think we’ll have any problem with David not getting on with other animals,” Henry says. “He’s always friendly to other dogs at the park, and he loves Bea’s cat. And I think you’re right: he’ll be much happier with another animal around all day to keep him company.”
The shelter they end up picking is only too happy to have Alex and Henry adopt a pet from them. Alex knows it’s good press for them. David trots along on his harness, sniffing everything with interest as Henry details their routine and lifestyle.
“We both go running, so we’d be fine with a dog that needs a lot of exercise. Or not – we can take David and just take the other dog for a walk around the block or to the park.”
The shelter volunteer – Katie – nods. “That’s great. A lot of people in the city don’t really understand how much exercise dogs need. Especially if they have an apartment, it can be tough.”
“We have a brownstone,” Alex says. “So we have a yard to ourselves – but it’s probably not big enough to just have the dogs run around on their own.”
“The biggest thing is that with Alex in law school, we have long stretches during the day when neither of us are home – or, if just Alex is home, he needs time to revise, so he can’t exactly spend all of his time home playing with the dogs.”
Alex nods in agreement.
“Okay, that helps a lot. I think we have a few dogs that might fit the bill.”
In the end, though, it’s David’s approval that matters most, and while David seems friendly to the dogs, he kind of leaves them alone after a few minutes in the introduction room.
Katie doesn’t seem deterred, even though Alex is wondering if a petsitter would be the worst idea.
“Was David around other dogs when he was younger? That might help us figure out what to look for a little better.”
Alex looks to Henry, who shakes his head. “No. Not after I got him; I only got him, and no one who was around us had dogs.”
Katie hums. “What about other animals?”
“He was friends with Henry’s sister’s cat,” Alex says.
“Do you think a cat might be a better fit? I don’t want to push you if you’re set on a dog; we get new dogs in all the time, and one of them might do the trick, but… if he’s used to a cat…”
Neither of them dislike cats, even if Henry isn’t Mr. Wobbles’s biggest fan, so even though they’re not really prepared for a cat… “I suppose it’s worth trying,” Henry says.
“Okay. Great. We have a couple cats I think might get along with David well. Let’s try them.”
They leave the shelter with a three-year-old Maine Coon almost as big as David, who had been named Philip by his previous owners.
“We’re changing the name,” Henry says.
“I don’t know. I think your brother would love it.”
Henry laughs and rolls his eyes. “We’re not having a cat named Philip.”
In the end, they decide to name him Bowie. Because. Well. It’s a compromise.
Henry outfits their apartment for a cat really quickly: scratching posts, litter boxes, cat trees, and catnip toys appear one day while Alex is at class. When he comes home, it’s almost like he’s walked into the cat section of a pet store.
Bowie is sitting on top of one of the cat trees, looking at him with big golden eyes.
Henry is sitting on the sofa. Alex walks over and kisses him hello. “You were busy today.”
“Well, I wanted to make sure Bowie was comfortable.” He drops his voice to a whisper. “I think he can tell we didn’t plan on bringing a cat home.”
Alex grins and flops down on the sofa next to him. “I’m sure David’s already told him.”
“They’re going to conspire against us.”
“David’s a Slytherin and Bowie’s a cat. I’m pretty sure that’s just what they do.”
David, hearing his name more than once, trots over and jumps up on Henry’s lap. Alex reaches over to pet him.
“Isn’t that right, David?”
David wags his tail in agreement.
“They get on, though. I was a bit concerned, because cats can take a while to adjust, but Bowie’s settled right in.”
“It probably helps that he’s already made friends with David.”
“Probably,” Henry agrees. He pets David, too.
It’s actually easier to adjust to Bowie than Alex thought it would be. Yeah, they have new furniture, and they have to take turns cleaning the litter box (which is gross, but they have to clean up after David on walks, too, so it’s ultimately fine). But all in all, it’s really not that different.
David was already really sneaky about food and treats, and Bowie prefers the air conditioned brownstone to trying to get outside (unless he sees a squirrel, but Henry manages to grab him in time).
Most importantly: David and Bowie get along really well. Despite knowing that David and Mr. Wobbles got along, Alex kind of had his doubts. Everyone knows the old adage about cats and dogs, and while David’s always been really nice to people (and Mr. Wobbles), Alex knows that isn’t a guarantee.
But no. They get along really well. They follow each other around the brownstone, sleep in the same bed sometimes, play together… Alex is impressed.
The only thing is, well… Alex is pretty sure they’re competing over Henry’s affection. Which is kind of funny to watch. One or both of them is constantly at Henry’s feet. They beg for food and pets. They fight over who gets to lay in Henry’s lap while they all watch Star Wars (Alex eventually decides to save them the effort and lays in Henry’s lap himself).
But they’re happy. David doesn’t seem lonely anymore, though now, when Alex comes home from class, he has two pets greeting him at the door.
At first, Alex floats the idea of Thanksgiving in the brownstone (he’s really busy with class, it would be easier for David and Bowie, Bea and Pez could even come), but ultimately he knows that’s not a reasonable thing to do.
So they go down to the White House. Alex is, after all, still very much the First Son of the United States of America, and Henry is a prince, and there’s plenty of room to sleep over.
Even if his mom and Henry both, individually, make jokes about using his old room to house turkeys.
Alex is sure they’re joking.
Like. Ninety-nine percent sure.
He does have to check when they get in on Wednesday night, and the room is mercifully turkey-free. Thank fucking god. No one needs a repeat of that experience.
It is, however, outfitted for both David and Bowie, which is a relief. This is kind of an experiment; Henry insists that you’re not supposed to bring cats travelling, but Alex thought it was pretty shitty to leave Bowie alone in the brownstone.
Bowie doesn’t seem to love the White House at first. It’s new, and weird, and probably smells like turkeys (okay, maybe not after all this time, but Alex isn’t totally convinced). David settles right in and goes to take a nap on Alex’s old bed.
After a few minutes of investigation, Bowie scratches the scratching post and then curls up next to David. That apparently settled, Alex and Henry go downstairs to greet June, who pulls them both into a tight hug.
They’ve seen her since March, of course, but they still live hours apart. It’s not like Alex can just walk across the hall to her anymore. And, well, as sappy as it sounds, he’s missed her. The group chat and video calls can only do so much.
He knows this is part of growing up: your friends and family have their own lives (just like you do), and sometimes you can’t catch up as often as you want. It still sucks, though, and Alex is determined to make the most of this weekend.
He sees his mom and Leo, too, of course, and they both make time for Alex and Henry both. Alex really appreciates how they make Henry feel like part of the family, like he always has been. It doesn’t feel like they’re putting forth an active effort; it’s just like Henry’s always been there.
It’s kind of hard to believe that he and Henry have only been together for two years; it feels like forever in the best possible way.
Alex really doesn’t want to go to London for Christmas. It’s not like he has much of a choice.
Relationships are about compromise, and it’s not like they can just invite Henry’s mom and sister to the White House. Not for a family holiday. Besides, Henry spent Thanksgiving with Alex and his family in D.C., and even though that’s not a British holiday, it’s only fair to trade off.
And Alex isn’t about to let Henry deal with Philip alone. Besides, Martha is kind of okay? Kind of. He’s really tried his best to avoid spending time with either of them, but Martha seems… not as bad as Philip. Like that’s a high bar.
His parents understand, of course, because despite all their shit, his parents are both like, pretty normal. Or, at least, they’re not as crazy as Henry’s family. Or crazy in a different way. Better way.
Because Henry is a prince, they have a private plane to take them to London. After much discussion, they decide to leave both David and Bowie at home; Nora agrees to watch them. She doesn’t have any plans for Christmas, and Chanukah ended a few weeks ago.
Of course, Alex and Henry are going to check in. Not that they don’t trust Nora (they do), but Alex, for one, is pretty sure they’ll both welcome the distraction.
Kensington is fine. Really, it just reminds Alex how much like home the brownstone feels. Anyone visiting the brownstone can tell that Henry lives there, too. But for a few days… he can deal.
Especially since they get to be with Bea, who greets them both with a big hug and rambles on about her life, like they don’t talk constantly. “And how’s Philip?”
Alex laughs. “Henry refuses to call him that.”
“His name is Bowie,” Henry says. “Please tell me you haven’t told Philip about the cat.”
“He knows you’ve got a cat. He doesn’t know the cat’s name.”
Honestly, it’s not that bad. Philip is a pretentious dick, like always but Martha is nice to both of them. Not as nice as Bea or Catherine, of course, but nice enough that Alex thinks she was probably just mad about the cake before. And it’s not like that’s an unreasonable thing to be annoyed about.
He’s just glad she seems to have gotten over it.
Alex still feels a little like a fish out of water, though, and he’s definitely uncomfortable around Henry’s grandmother (but so is Henry). Just after Christmas Eve dinner, Martha pulls him aside. “It gets easier, you know.”
She’s the daughter of nobility, white, and presumably straight (or at least in a hetero relationship), so she can’t really understand, but he appreciates it. “Thanks, but I don’t think Mary’s ever going to get less racist. Or homophobic.”
“Probably not, but she won’t be Queen forever. And, awful as this may sound, she’ll have to get used to you. It’s obvious you’re not going anywhere. I, for one, am a bit relieved about that.”
“Why’s that?”
“I’d have been a lot angrier if Henry had ruined my wedding day for someone who didn’t matter.”
Alex grimaces. “I really am sorry about that,” he says, because it’s the right thing to do, and also the truth.
Martha pats his arm. “As long as you don’t ruin any more of my major life events.”
“I’ll do my best.”
While neither Alex nor June live in the White House anymore, and Nora lives in Boston, they all decided that they should continue their annual tradition of hosting the Legendary Balls-Out Bananas White House Trio New Year’s Eve party. Alex is a little too busy with law school to be as involved in the planning as he’d like, but Henry, Pez, and Bea step in to help (especially Bea, who claims she doesn’t have any more pressing obligations).
Amy’s wife, Julia, promises to look after the animals for the weekend. She’s just in the apartment downstairs, so it’s easier than anything else. Besides, as much as Alex might hate to admit it, he’s pretty sure he and Henry will both be too hungover to take care of them themselves in the morning.
So he goes to the party; Nora picks him and Henry up and insists on road tripping down to D.C., which mostly includes belting out to whatever they can agree on playing (and they only make the mistake of handing Henry the aux once).
They’re all staying at the White House for the night, anyway, so when they arrive a little earlier than planned, Alex is happy to have some time alone with Henry.
They change before they head down, so even though their friends all give them knowing looks, they can’t prove anything. Alex makes everyone (except Bea, of course) do some shots, so they’re in good shape when the guests start coming in.
He doesn’t even mind when Henry drags him over to say hello to Taylor Swift (who he didn’t even think would come) and her British boyfriend. A couple years ago, he would have loved to see Henry embarrass himself by proudly telling Taylor Swift he was a huge fan, but now he just thinks it’s adorable. Even if Henry has horrible taste. (“She’s the Springsteen of our generation,” Henry tells him emphatically – drunkenly – later).
Alex and Henry kiss at midnight.
At some point after midnight, when the party is still going strong, he drags Henry out to the lawn and kisses him under a tree.
He knows they can’t always come back and kiss under this tree on New Year’s Day, but he’ll take the opportunity as long as he has it.
When he comes back in, Nora catches his eye and rushes over to the DJ. The song changes to “New Year’s Day” by Taylor Swift.
“At least give us something we can dance to!” he yells.
She has the DJ play “22” instead. Alex kisses Henry. He doesn’t care.
As long as he gets to kiss Henry, Alex is right where he’s supposed to be.