Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Friday, 3rd December 2021

It’s freezing outside and a few snowflakes are tumbling through the air, it looks as if they’ve got lost in between the New York city lights and honking cars. His cheeks are burning from the cold but it’s a welcome distraction. It’s better than thinking about the persistent paparazzi that ambushed him on campus. It’s December and he knows the tabloids have been reaching for rumors more than usual. With Christmas approaching, their only interest seems to be where Henry and Alex will spend their holidays. Still, he hadn’t quite expected the reporter standing outside his lecture hall, a photographer next to him, camera at the ready. Cash had made it clear that he would not be answering any questions and that they’d be hearing from a lawyer about entering school grounds and disrupting Alex’s privacy like this.
Alex wouldn’t exactly say that what he has on NYU’s campus is privacy but at least he feels less in the spotlight than most other places. His classmates know him long enough by now to not be overly excited about the First Son going to law school with them. Sure, there are a few who never stopped asking him questions or trying to get a selfie, but it has slowed down significantly, partly due to Alex doing his very best to blend in and disappear in between everyone else. The Dean had approached him early on in his first semester and asked if he’d be interested in extracurricular duties and implied that the position of the student presidency would likely be offered to him in the future, but he had declined. As much as he used to love the spotlight and attention, lately he craves the quiet and peace of a more anonymous life. It has taken a while but now he understands what Henry had said all those months ago on New Year’s Eve.

The NYU campus might not be private per se, but it allows Alex to feel as much like a normal student as possible. Something that isn’t ever awarded to him anywhere else in the city. His therapist says it’s normal for him to feel this way. “You’re under a constant microscope of cameras and media, Alex. And you can try to rationalize that away with your position in the world, but it doesn’t make the situation any different. You are allowed to feel annoyed and angry at the invasion of your privacy. It’s reasonable and anyone would react that way, especially after such a traumatic event like getting publicly outed.” Dr. Reinhardt is a lot smarter than Alex and she always finds the words to help ease his mind. As a therapist is supposed to, probably, but Alex had still been a little skeptical when Henry had first suggested he should try therapy back in the summer. It has helped and he likes going to his weekly sessions now, even if they bring up painful or complicated memories. Somedays, they just end up chatting about his week and he uses the space to vent about his finance professor (he is 96% certain the guy is homophobic even if he doesn’t directly show it, his looks and snide comments say enough).

Reminding himself of his therapy sessions and the tools they’ve talked about doesn’t seem to help today though. He’s tried to calm himself down in the car and when that wasn’t working, he’d requested to get out and walk the rest of the way. He’s taking a route through back allies and smaller streets, the ones he knows aren’t the usual paparazzi spots. They’ve been getting a lot of practice on their daily dog walks. He’d like it if they wouldn’t have to but at least today it helps him. The cold is cutting into his face and the wind that squeezes itself through the high, wall-to-wall houses blows curls in Alex’s face. He shoves his hands deeper into the pockets of his coat and picks up his pace. He can just make out the corner to their street in the distance and the promise of warmth and a hug from his boyfriend is calling out to him. Out of the corner of his eye he notices Cash mirroring his movements, a dark, bulky shadow always at his side. Alex isn’t sure he’d be able to go out in public half as much without Cash at his side. Over the course of the last year, they’ve become even more like friends than before. Where it felt like he was a bit of the White House troublemaker needing to be looked after before, it feels more equal now. Alex has even contemplated inviting Cash over to dinner on one of his free days. He hasn’t yet but maybe it is worth thinking about again.

Finally, they reach the front door of the brownstone. He pushes the key into the lock and starts to turn it, straining his ears to listen for the sound he’s become so accustomed to coming home. Sure enough, he hears David barking before he’s turned the key halfway. The door opens and David almost makes him fall when he jumps at Alex, tail wagging. “Hey, Dave, hey” he kneels, throwing his backpack to the side and buries his hands in the dog’s fur. “Hey, did you miss me? Yes, yes. I missed you too, buddy.” “Anyone else you missed?” Henry asks, his smooth baritone washing over Alex like a comforting blanket. Alex looks up and smiles at him. “Obviously. David is just faster than you.” Henry laughs. “I’ve made tea and I thought we could order some dinner from that Italian place you like. You look exhausted and I’d much rather spend time with you than stand in the kitchen cooking.” Alex stands up, giving David a last stroke over his head. “That’d be amazing, sweetheart. I know I promised to cook Mom’s casserole this week but I just…” “You’re tired. That’s perfectly okay, love”, Henry takes Alex’s hand and squeezes it. “I don’t care if you do it this week or next or not at all. All I care about is you and today you look like your mind is somewhere else entirely. The food’s not important.”

Alex sighs. “Thanks!” He follows Henry into the living room and flops onto the couch. “It’s just…everything today.” Closing his eyes, he lets his head sink back into the cushions. He feels the padding beside him give way to Henry’s weight as he sits down next to Alex. “Do you want to talk about it?” Alex thinks for a moment. Does he? There hasn’t really been any space to work through his feelings today. Maybe it’ll help. “I had Finance Law today and you know I hate that. I just don’t get how someone with a PhD is so useless at explaining something that isn’t as hard as he makes it out to be. I basically need to teach myself everything again after. And well, it’s not like Professor Allen is a decent person otherwise. I’m telling you; he’s got a problem with every student that doesn’t fit his asshole-definition of white, cis, and straight. And well, I’m neither white nor straight and I’m also not a blonde girl he can objectify so that loses me points already without ever doing anything. And he was so mean today, seriously Hen, it’s not even funny anymore. Ty, I told you about Ty, right?” Henry nods, inclines his head, and puts an arm around Alex to pull him closer. “Well, he had to give a presentation today and Allen basically ripped him to shreds in front of the whole class. Half of his criticism wasn’t even related to the presentation. It was good, really good and I learned more than I have in all the lessons before combined. But of course, because Ty has a slight accent and doesn’t dress particularly masculine or whatever that asshole thinks that means, he’s on Allen’s bad side. Fuck, I was so close to screaming at him.”

“But you didn’t, did you?” “No, no. I don’t want to jeopardize my grades any more than I already did when I tired to explain to him that I don’t expect ‘special treatment’ because I’m the son of the President but simply equal treatment for me and others he’s ignoring in the class. But I could’ve exploded then. And like, that’s one thing and it’d be bad enough for a week but then these awful paps were on campus, and I nearly panicked right then and there.” “Oh God!”, Henry whispers, tightening his grip around Alex’s waist. “I don’t even fucking know how they got my class schedule. And it’s just so… so invasive you know? I just want to spend a day in peace and not be bombarded with all these fucking questions about where we’ll be for Christmas and if we’re still happy or why we don’t go out as much anymore and if maybe that means there’s ‘Trouble in Paradise’ or something. Like, no you fuckers. All the trouble there is, is people being nosy and thinking they have a right to know anything about us just because we’re public figures. And we don’t go out much anymore because they’re everywhere and I feel like we can never escape them.” He feels tears prickling in his eyes now. “I just want it all to stop sometimes. Just go somewhere and be alone and not worry about anyone sneaking a picture or ambushing me at the grocery store.” The tears are running down his cheeks now and Henry reaches out to catch some of them with his fingers. “Hey. Alex, hey, it’s okay. I understand that. God, you know how much I understand.”

For a while they just sit there on the couch, in their sideways hug, Henry whispering soft, encouraging words and Alex sobbing quietly. David, who has been watching them from his blanket next to the TV, pads over and jumps into Alex’ lap. Alex lets out a teary laugh when the dog starts licking his hands. “Thanks, bud.” The doorbell rings and David’s ears turn toward the sound, but he doesn’t move to go bark at the door. He seems to know exactly where he’s needed in this moment and it’s Alex’s lap and not the possible stranger outside. Henry moves to untangle himself from Alex and shoves David’s leg off him to stand up. “That’ll be the food, I’ll go and get it.” “Oh, it’s here already? I thought you didn’t order yet?” Henry smiles softly and presses a kiss to Alex’s forehead. “I placed the order before you came home. I guessed you’d be agitated from the cryptic texts you’ve been sending me all day.” He opens the living room door and steps into the hall. “I’ll be back in a moment, love!” Alex can’t help but smile. How has he gotten so lucky in the boyfriend department? There’s no one he’s met who is as considerate and in-tune with his feelings as Henry. He can’t make out the conversation in the hall, so he searches for his phone, finds it in his back pocket and pulls it out. The screen is overflowing with notifications and Alex quickly swipes most of them away. He pauses at an email from Zahra. He knows he can’t ignore it however much he might like to. It’ll only evoke an angry phone call and he cannot deal with Zahra screaming down a phone at him today. Reading the email is less confrontational he decides.

To: [email protected]

CC: [email protected]

Interview with Vogue, answer fast

[1 attachment]

Alex & Henry,
Vogue contacted me about an interview (don’t know why they still go through me, y’all aren’t even in DC). They want to do one of their 73 questions with you. See attachment. They need an answer as soon as possible so you better make a quick decision.
Zahra

Alex draws a deep breath and curls his hands into David’s fur. This is not what he expected and nothing he wants to think about on a Friday evening. He’d been assuming that people would hold up on interview request for a while longer. The fact that they hadn’t done any interviews in the last year, apart from one for Pride, apparently hadn’t been enough of a sign. Alex doesn’t feel like he can do interviews right now. As attention-seeking and bubbly as he might have been before, now he enters every conversation with an apprehension and tensed-up shoulders, waiting for the moment they inevitably ask about their relationship, or the emails or the leak or all of it. He doesn’t notice he’s tensing up again until Henry’s voice pierces through his thought spiral. “Love?” He blinks and there’s Henry, kneeling in front of him, seeking his gaze. “You okay?” It’s rare that Henry doesn’t use full sentences and Alex knows it’s a clear indicator that he’s more than worried. He takes a breath. Tries to speak, bring words past his lips, takes another breath. “It’s…it’s…just…fuck, I…” Henry cups his cheek with one hand and reaches for Alex’s phone that he’s clutching in his hand like he wants to crash it. “Hey, you don’t have to talk, darling. Is it something on your phone?” Alex manages a small nod. “Can I look at it?” Another nod. Henry unlocks the phone and starts reading the email that is still open. His brows furrow and he absentmindedly starts stroking Alex’s cheek with his thumb. When he finishes, he lays the phone on the table behind him and takes Alex’s face in both of his hands. “I think I know why you’re upset. Can you tell me if I’m right?” Alex’s throat still feels a little too closed up to force words out of his mouth, but he tries. “This is our home!”, he croaks hoarsely.

Henry nods and his frown evens out a little. “You don’t want them coming here, I assume?” Shaking his head, Alex tries to speak again. The building panic is slowly receding in Henry’s presence. It’s easier this time. “No. I don’t want it. I don’t want anyone here. This is our place we should…we should be left alone here. If nowhere else is for just us, this is.” Henry gives him an encouraging smile and takes his hand to pull him up into a hug. David grumbles but jumps off the sofa and trudges back to his cot. “They shouldn’t be able to make a claim to see our home, you’re right. It’s invasive and it’s perfectly reasonable that you’re upset. I am as well! This is the place we made for ourselves, and we shouldn’t even have to think about opening it up for everyone to see.” He presses a kiss to Alex’s forehead, then his cheeks, the corner of his mouth. “This is our place and we’re the only ones who get to make the calls. We make our own rules here.” Alex sniffs. “Isn’t that a Taylor Swift lyric?” Henry laughs, “maybe…” “Have you been listening to her on repeat again?” “And if I have? I think it’s only reasonable, the whole world is listening to her again after she re-released Red. I’m just going with the mainstream here, love.” “You’re so sappy, Hen!” Alex laughs and this time it sounds less like a sob. “Well, it is a break-up album, isn’t it?” Alex clasps his hands together around Henry’s neck and buries his face in his woolen sweater. “As long as you don’t break up with me, you can listen to whatever music you’d like.” “I’d never dream of it, Alex.” He hides the dreamy smile spreading on his lips in Henry’s shoulder. “Good, because I love you too much.”

Later, after they’ve sent an email back to Zahra and declined the interview, they sit on the couch and eat their food. There’s pasta sauce on both their chins and steaming containers of lasagna in front of them. Alex watches Henry out of the corner of his eyes. His prince (he doesn’t feel overly dreamy calling him that, not today and if he’s honest, not ever) is solely focused on the food in front of him, chewing and already shoving the next bite on his fork. Alex pauses, puts down his cutlery and reaches out to grab Henry’s hand. He looks up, clearly surprised to be pulled out of his food-indulgence. “Thanks for today, baby!” It earns Alex a bright smile. “Of course, love. Anytime, in any circumstance, you know that:” “I do. Just, it’s nice to be reminded that you’re always here. It never gets old.” “It doesn’t and I hope it never will.”

The snow has turned into a heavy fall now and their windows are covered in a steady mixture of ice crystals and sludgy water. They finish their meal and curl up next to each other. The TV plays an old episode of Bake Off and for the first time today, Alex truly feels at peace. He’s at home, in the arms of his boyfriend and no one is ever going to come through the door and film their place for the world to see. This truly is their place where they make the decisions. As long as he has this with Henry, with David curling up at their feet, the base-level of everything is good. It can’t ever sink down lower than they can reach out for each other. Whatever will come their way, they’ll face it together and it’ll be okay.

Chapter Text

Sunday 12th December 2021

Alex can’t sleep. It’s 2 am and he cannot fucking sleep. 2 at night didn’t use to be unusual for him, after all insomnia has always been a close friend. But since Henry and Alex moved into the brownstone last spring, their sleepless nights have decreased significantly. It’s rare now that they both fight with their thoughts at night and if they do, they always find ways to distract themselves. Often, the afterglow of an orgasm is more than enough to send them into a sated dreamland. Sometimes, when the atmosphere is more sullen than charged with pent up energy, they hug each other close, every limb and inch of skin touching, falling asleep with Alex’s head on Henry’s chest.

If one of them lays awake, the other usually doesn’t take long to notice the restlessness hanging in the air. Henry says that Alex’s spiraling thoughts are so loud that he can hear an echo in the room. It feels like this tonight. Alex can’t see past the questions in his head. He is quietly expecting Henry to wake up any moment, almost waits for his hand to feel for him in the dark. Instead, Henry is curled up like a ball, mirroring David’s pose on his dog bed by the window. He’s sleeping safe and sound, the exhaustion of the day painted in the frown on his forehead.

Alex sits up in the bed and rearranges his pillow to lean against the headboard. The metal frame is cold and uncomfortable without a barrier of cushions. On a day that seems so far away he thinks it might be a memory from a different Alex, they’d discussed the merits and downfalls of a metal bedframe. The positives won out, not least because Henry and Alex had both been horny and too many miles away from each other. And it’s not like they haven’t thoroughly followed through with their plans from that day, but tonight nothing seems further from Alex’s mind. He closes his hand around the metal bar next to his head, hoping the cold will help ground him. His head is pounding, the only signal that his body is tired even if his mind isn’t.

Still, his eyes are wide open as he stares into the dark room, unseeing. It’s as if the events of the afternoon are repeating itself in their bedroom. It had been a casual conversation and one with friends at that. The friends he’s made despite fearing that he would never find people who would like him for more than being the First Son and the Prince’s boyfriend. Merle, Nate, and Erin turned out to be those friends. They included him in their mismatched group from the first time they’d run into each other in the lecture hall.

This afternoon, they’d met up for a routine study session. As much as they liked to talk shit about Professor Allen, they still needed to do his assignments and try to not irreparably jeopardize their grades. So, they’d been studying, sitting in Nate’s dorm room and the conversation was more or less focused on the topic of the latest lecture. After a while, Merle suggested to order some pizza ‘to get us through this mess’, and, after they all agreed and she placed the order, they spent another 30 minutes working. Once the pizza arrived though, the conversation strayed. From Nate’s latest mishaps at the fitness studio (so far, he had managed to get himself banned from every studio in walking distance from the campus) to Erin’s job at her aunt’s bookstore and Alex’s last facetime call with June, they eventually ended up on the topic of Christmas plans.

Merle wanted to spend the holidays in New York together with their boyfriend Ty, ignoring the invitation from their family. “If they don’t even try to accept me, why should I accept their bigoted shit and award them with my presence?”, she’d explained. The topic of Merle’s family wasn’t a new one, so they all answered with supporting murmurs and nods.
Erin was planning to visit her grandmother in Maine and hoped her aunt would join her. “I just hope she’ll eventually agree that the store can survive a little Christmas holiday. It’d be so nice to see Granny again and my dad is trying to come to, so we’d all be together, which never happens anymore .”
Nate is going to travel home to his family in North Carolina and tells them with bright eyes about his nieces. “They’re little terrors but like, in the best way. And I’m the cool uncle so I can’t really do much wrong .”

Alex smiled through all their stories, nodded along, and gave appropriate comments here and there. Internally, he wracked his brain for something he could say. They had possibilities for plans and at the same time they didn’t have anything. It was expected that they’d make a stop at Kensington and Alex knew his family was waiting to hear from them as well. There was the New Years Eve Gala June and Nora had been planning for weeks now, texting Alex almost every hour about some ideas they wanted his input on. He had agreed to everything, not even really considering the suggestions. Their party had always been a highlight of the holiday season for him but this year, he couldn’t grasp the excitement he usually felt in preparation of it. Christmas felt like an abstract concept to him this year. He didn’t know what to expect at Kensington. He didn’t know what to expect at all.

Last year, they had celebrated Christmas Eve separately, and Henry had come to DC after boxing day. It had been such a different atmosphere last year. The move to New York was constantly on their minds, yet still far enough in the future to make the distance that separated them most days agonizing and the time in DC magical and easy. Henry spent most of his time in London sitting in meetings, Alex was preparing for law school, their relationship out in the open was still a new feeling. Now, a year had passed, and the emotions Alex had still repressed and pushed away back then, now felt both old and new.

Old, because months had passed and living together gave Alex a sense of security he didn’t use to have before. New, because it had taken him until this summer to address everything that had happened, and it regularly came up in therapy. He had confronted his fears and continued to do so, a fact that made it easier to deal with his anxieties on some days and harder to ignore the depths of his hurt on others. This night fell into the latter category. The question had floated around in his head for weeks already, prodding at his nerves.

“Hey, where are you spending Christmas, Alex?”, Erin had asked. It was a harmless question from her, asked out of genuine interest but it sounded too much like the echo of everyone who had asked him the same question over the course of the last weeks. His Mom, the Queen, the headlines on newspapers he saw on his way to the dog park, the paparazzi who screamed it at him, pushing a camera in his face. He’d begun to fiddle with the loose threads on his sweater – Henry’s sweater he’d remembered – and stammered something about them not being sure yet.
All the while, a whispered thought in his head got louder: He couldn’t tell them about his inner conflict, it wasn’t safe. There was always a possibility for it to get out. The tabloids would paint it in a way that would make him out to be the bad guy. The one who wasn’t sure, who stopped his boyfriend from spending time with his family because he felt overwhelmed. Because he was selfish. The one who made everything complicated because he wasn’t over what had happened when everyone else seemed to have moved on so effortlessly.

The rational part of his brain tried to argue that this were his friends. He could trust them; they wouldn’t go behind his back. But the thoughts telling him that he couldn’t be sure since he hadn’t known them for that long were louder, drowning out the rest. The conversation moved on, but Alex was stuck. He tried to shake it off, but the claws of anxiety only loosened slowly and didn’t fully let go. He could still feel the whisper when he got into the car an hour later, clutching his laptop bag. The whisper persisted through dinner and even Bake Off and Henry’s limbs intertwined with his own on the couch couldn’t make the thoughts go quiet. He plastered a smile on his face and listened to Henry telling him about the shelter. Henry was exhausted from the day long preparation for the shelter’s Christmas party and wasn’t as perceptive to Alex’s moods as he normally was. Alex decided not to draw Henry’s attention to his tumultuous mind. Instead, he suggested to go to sleep early, and Henry agreed with a thankful smile.

That had been five hours ago. Now, everything isquiet, even the street noise is sporadic and far away. New York might not sleep much, but there are times in the night when it comes close. 2:14 am is such a time. And Alex sits there, staring into the distance, desperately trying to breathe. He wasn’t ambushed by a photographer today and rationally speaking, nothing happened. Yet, he feels like he did at the beginning of the month. His thoughts are too loud, have been for what feels like forever, the whole stretch of this lonely December night. He can’t stop thinking about that moment when all his friends looked at him, expectant of a big plan and he froze and stumbled over his words. He knows they haven’t given a definite answer to any of their invitations. His Mom has cautiously asked if they’ll stop by the White House during the holidays and The Crown is strongly insisting, they’ll fly to London. They haven’t arranged anything, haven’t decided where to go and Alex knows why. He knows it’s because of him. It’s because Henry wants him to decide and he’s respecting Alex’s need for quiet and calm. Alex is supposed to be the one to make the call, the one to decide.

But he can’t. He doesn’t know how. It’s not like he particularly wants to celebrate at Kensington. The Queen expects them too, everyone expects them too. Alex doesn’t want to know what the news will write about them if they don’t show. Nevertheless, his mind is all too quick to provide possible headlines.

The First Son is dividing the Royal Family – how Alex Claremont-Diaz is tearing the Windsor’s apart

10 photos that show ACD’s bad influence on HRH Prince Henry

Rift in the Royal Family – how long will HRH Prince Henry’s and Alex Claremont-Diaz’ relationship last after their no-show on Christmas?

Why declining the Queen’s Christmas invitation is a big mistake – and why this error is projected to start the downfall of FSOTUS Alex Claremont-Diaz

He takes a ragged breath.

They could go to DC but that wouldn’t make the headlines any better. He knows they’d speak about favoritism and how the President must draw a line between private and political connections. They’d talk about an insult to the monarchy. And then there’s no guarantee that it’d be a peaceful Christmas. Last year was marginally better than the year before, at least they got through dinner without a fight. Alex doesn’t expect it to go as smoothly this year.
The election nerves have faded once and for all, the excitement about the new term has given way to routine and earnestness. If Ellen had ben determined to stand her ground as the first female president before, she’s even more adamant to emphasize her position and skill in this second term. Putting her and Oscar in the same room is like planting a time bomb. Alex is not prepared to deal with that. He can’t play the mediator and he also cannot sit back and watch. He is barely able to mediate his own thoughts these days.

Another ragged breath.

His gaze has become hazy, he can barely see the outlines of the door. The door is always his focus point in their bedroom. They leave it ajar, a light in the hallway always turned on. Now, the doorframe seems to swim away in tears. His eyes flit around the room, not registering anything. There must be something he can see, something he can focus on. He just…just needs to focus on something. A fixed point. Then. Then he needs to count. Count. Breathe. In. One. Out. In. Two. Out. The stripe of light at the door wobbles. Three. No, he got distracted. He needs to count again. And breathe. In. One. Out. Two. In. Out. In. Out. In, out, in, out, in, out. Three, he thinks. Or five… or…

“Alex?” A voice that pushes through the sludge of his thoughts. It comes from his right, it’s familiar. There’s something in the sound of the voice. Worry. And a hint of comfort. He knows this voice. He trusts the person with this voice.
A finger that lightly taps his wrist. Henry. It’s Henry. He’s here. He’s awake. Alex is…

He can’t breathe. “Darling. Hey, Alex.” Henry is sitting next to him now, taking his whole hand. He whispers something. His voice sounds muffled. “Alexander, love. Hey, hey. Can you look at me? Yes. Good. Can you breathe with me? Just follow my lead, okay?” Henry’s eyes find his. Everything is still blurry, but Alex sees the blue, focuses on it. Henry starts counting. “In, one two, out, three, four, five. Good. In, one, two, out, three, four, five. Yes, like that. In, one, two, out, three, four, five.”Henry continues counting and Alex gasps for breath. Slowly, reluctantly, his breath steadies.

Alex blinks and Henry’s face looks clearer now, he registers his cheekbones, the curve of his mouth. “Hey, there you are.” A small smile dances on his lips. “Can you talk?” Alex stares at him and lifts a shoulder. His boyfriend smiles again. “That’s okay. Can I ask a question?” Alex nods. “Was it a nightmare?”. He shakes his head. “Ok. Have you slept tonight?” Another headshake. “Are your thoughts keeping you awake?” A nod. “Alright. Did something upset you today?” Another nod. “Was it something I did?” Alex shakes his head. “Did something happen with your friends?” A nod. “Did they say something?” A shrug. Henry raises an eyebrow. “Oh? Can you explain that to me, love?”

Alex isn’t sure and Henry seems to read that on his face. He reaches out and puts a hand on Alex’s cheek, lightly brushing a tear away from under his eyes. He didn’t notice his own crying before. “I…” he breaks off, shakes his head. “It’s silly.” “Alex, it isn’t silly. It has clearly upset you.”
Alex blinks, tries to chase away the tears in his eyes. “It’s not even…it’s a tiny thing. I don’t know why I’m even…” Henry takes Alex’s face in both hands, caressing his cheeks. “Love, it doesn’t matter that it’s a small thing. It triggered a panic attack and that doesn’t have to be rational. You don’t need to be able to pinpoint a clear reason or categorize the impact it has. It’s okay to just work through your emotions.” He pauses, thinks about something, his thumb absentmindedly stroking Alex’s cheek. “And you don’t have to tell me, I don’t want to pressure you. If I have, I’m sorry. I simply want to make sure you know that you can tell me, should you want to. It’s your call, darling.”

Alex remains silent for a few seconds. Then, he hesitantly reaches up, puts his hand on top of Henry’s and squeezes weakly. His eyes find Henry’s, fully seeing him for the first time this night. His other arm reaches for Henry’s hips, silently asking for his closeness. Henry understands and pulls Alex onto his lap, curling his arms around Alex’s waist, hugging him close.

They sit like this for a while. Alex with his head buried in Henry’s chest, Henry steadily stroking his hand up and down Alex’s spine. The old mechanic clock on Henry’s bedside table ticks in the quiet rhythm of seconds passing. Minutes pass and Alex focuses on Henry’s hand on his back, the steady ticktack of the clock. His breath evens out, his shoulders relax. He tries to speak and now the words easily flow. He still doesn’t manage much, but he asks for one thing. “Can you read to me?” There is a hint of surprise in Henry’s answer. “Oh, yes. Of course, I can, love.”

Reading is usually a separate hobby for them. Where Henry likes to curl up in bed with a worn copy of one of his favorite novels, Alex prefers to listen to audiobooks. He likes the way he can adjust the speed of the story to his racing, always-a-step-ahead mind. 1.5x speed normally comforts his agitation. Tonight however, he longs for Henry’s low baritone in his ears, his accent curling around every word with care, feeling in every vowel and consonant. “What do you want me to read, love?”

“You choose. Maybe, maybe one of your favorites?” Alex sounds almost shy asking. “Okay. Let me see what I can find”, Henry loosens his grip around Alex’s waist. Alex immediately grabs for him, pulling him close again. Henry laughs fondly. “I’d have to get up to find a book, Alex. Just for a moment…” Alex grumbles, cuddling even closer. “I know, love, it’s unfortunate. I’ll be quick, alright?” He reluctantly lets go and shuffles to the side, laying down and pulling the covers up to his nose. “Hurry!” Henry chuckles and slips out the door.

When Henry taps back into the bedroom, a copy of Pride and Prejudice in hand, he finds Alex curled up around David on the bed. The dog seems to have woken after Henry left the room to search his bookshelves in their living room. “Hey, is there some space left for me?” Alex nods, sliding to the side so he lays more in the middle. He pads on the mattress to his left, his usual side of the bed. Henry nods and climbs under the covers, leaning against the headboard. “What did you pick?” There’s a little smile on Alex’s face and he sees the wave of relief flooding Henry’s features at the sight. “Pride and Prejudice. I hope that’s okay?”

“Yeah, that’s great, baby.” Alex can feel the panic leaving him, the anxiety quieting down inch-by-inch. David’s head is resting on his chest and his weight grounds him. Henry tangles his fingers into Alex’s curls and opens the book. “From the beginning?”, he asks softly. Alex murmurs an affirmative. “Okay,” Henry clears his throat. “It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a single man in possession of a good fortune, must be in want of a wife. However little known the feelings or views of such a man may be on his first entering a neighbourhood, this truth is so well fixed in the minds of the surrounding families, that he…”

Henry reads and Alex listens. His turbulent thoughts slow down, his mind focusing on the story Henry is whispering into the night. The inside of his head starts to shape back into a straight-forward line of thoughts instead of the previous spiral he’d fought all night. He starts to make a list in his head.

1. He doesn’t like the uncertainty of their Christmas plans
2. He hates all the expectations that are attached to their decisions
3. He is afraid of what the media is going to say
4. He wishes he could satisfy the wishes of everyone, his family and Henry’s alike
5. He knows that won’t be possible
6. This realization is scary
7. “I don’t want anyone to know where we’re going for Christmas”

Henry stops reading. He’s midway through the second chapter, a half-finished sentence hangs in the air. Still, he immediately closes the book, not bothering with a bookmark. “Okay.” He turns to Alex, sliding down to lay beside him, his body turned toward Alex’s. “We don’t have decide anything now, you know that, right?” Alex nods. “Yeah, I know. But we need to decide sooner or later, and everyone will want to know why we’re doing this and not something different. Mom’s been asking every time we call, and I know we need to be in London for at least a day but…I don’t know what I want this Christmas to look like for us, you know. Just, I hate that it’s inevitably going to be stressful. I wish we could just be by ourselves, somewhere no one will find us…”

Henry’s hand finds his under the covers and he squeezes it. “I wish we could do that too, Alex. I really do.” He is silent for a moment, frowning a little. “Is this what triggered your panic attack earlier?” “Yeah, mostly. I’m guessing there’s more to it and I’m sure I’ll analyze all of it in therapy on Monday.” Henry grins a little. “But its enough to know for now, I’m assuming.” “It is,” Alex wraps his arm around Henry’s waist, pulling him to his chest. “It doesn’t make the anxiety disappear but it’s calming enough.” Henry hums and presses a featherlight kiss to Alex’s cheek. “Do you think you’ll be able to sleep now? We can talk about finalizing our Christmas plans in the morning if you want.” Alex yawns. “Sounds good, sweetheart.” He cuddles closer to Henry, burying his nose in Henry’s neck.

Quiet spreads across the room. David is snoring lightly next to Alex and Henry smiles at the sound of it. He presses another kiss to his boyfriend’s cheek. “Good night, Alex. I love you.” “Love you too.” It’s quiet again. Henry’s breath evens out and Alex thinks he’s already fallen asleep when he decides to whisper one last thing into the darkness. “Thank you.”
“Always, love, always.”

Alex falls asleep with a small smile on his lips. The anxious thoughts occupying his mind haven’t vanished but they’re less prevalent than they where earlier in the night. Talking with Henry and listening to him read helped keep the panic at bay.
While Henry’s clock ticks closer to the earlier morning hours of Sunday, Henry and Alex find their peace for the night, their limbs so closely entangled that nothing could come between them. Not tonight nor any other time.