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“I’m bored.”
Henry slowly looks up from his book, refocusing his eyes on the other end of the couch where Alex is lying down and resting his head against the arm of the couch, staring up at the ceiling with a frown. “I thought you were reading,” Henry says, gesturing to the paper in Alex’s hand – the one he insisted he had to read for class even though it isn’t mandatory.
“I was, but it’s so mind-numbingly boring that my head is about to explode,” Alex retorts, slamming said paper – carefully – on top of the coffee table before turning his head to look at Henry.
“You’re so dramatic,” he says with a smile, squeezing Alex’s feet as they’re resting on his lap, and Alex grins up at him.
“Yeah, well, you love me,” he declares with a pointed look, pushing himself up into a sitting position. He scoots closer and closer to Henry until he can throw a leg over his lap and straddle his hips, easily taking the book from Henry’s hands. “So what do you say we both stop what we’re doing and make out for a bit?”
“Can’t you see I’m reading?” Henry asks lightly, fighting off a smile. “I’m quite fond of this book, in case you didn’t know.” He means to sound firmer, but it probably doesn’t have the desired effect as he lets Alex remove the book from his hands, immediately bringing them up to wrap around his boyfriend’s waist.
Alex hums quietly, leaning in close to pressing a lingering kiss on Henry’s cheek. “I’m way more fun than that book, though.”
“You’re a menace, that’s what you are.”
“Don’t hear you complaining—”
Henry shuts him up with a kiss, bringing their lips together and smiling into it. Alex makes a surprised noise at the back of his throat before he eagerly kisses back, mouth stretched into a grin as his hands come up to gently cup Henry’s jaw.
They kiss for an amount of time that is impossible to determine, teeth nipping at lower lips and tongues dragging against each other, hands pulling each other closer and closer until there isn’t an inch of space left between them.
When Alex pulls back to breathe, Henry is unsurprised and a little pleased to see they’re both panting. “Was that enough to satisfy your boredom?” he manages to ask in between inhales of breath, keeping his eyes closed for a moment longer.
He feels more than hears Alex’s chuckle against his cheek, warm breath hitting his skin as soft lips travel along his face. “It was a good start.”
“You’re insatiable.”
“You’re a good kisser.”
“You’re such a charmer—”
“You have freckles.”
Henry’s eyes shoot open at Alex’s shocked tone. “What?”
Alex isn’t looking at him; his eyes are fixed on a spot on Henry’s face, somewhere along his cheekbones, his lips slightly parted as if he can’t believe what he’s seeing. “You— oh my God, you have so many freckles,” he whispers in awe. One of his hands moves from Henry’s jaw and up to his cheekbones, soft fingertips touching the skin below his eyes so faintly Henry almost doesn’t feel them.
“Oh,” he says for lack of anything else to say, closing his eyes again. “Well, yes.”
“Have they always been there?” There’s a short pause before Alex continues with a laugh. “That’s a stupid question, of course they’ve always been there, but why hadn’t I ever noticed them before?”
“Probably because I used to hide them,” Henry practically breathes between them.
Alex freezes on top of him. “What? Why?”
Henry opens his eyes again. Alex’s face displays only pure disbelief and a bit of indignation, like he’s personally offended on behalf of Henry’s freckles. It’s cute, actually, if a bit ridiculous.
“I used to hide them,” he says again, a little quieter this time. “Well, not me exactly, but various make-up artists hired by my grandmother.”
Alex looks at him like he’s spilling nonsense but not in a funny way. “Why on earth would they do that?”
“Because she told them to,” he says with a shrug, trying to curl his lips in a smile but not quite succeeding. “She wanted… She didn’t think the image of the monarchy should have any imperfections. So she just… hid them away. Hired people to hide them, as she usually does.”
Alex doesn’t look any less horrified. “How—” he starts, then clears his throat when his voice shakes slightly. “How long did that happen for?”
It takes a moment for Henry to answer; not because he has to think about the answer, but because there’s a little lump in his throat that isn’t easy to swallow. “Since I was thirteen,” he finally murmurs, unable to speak any louder.
“Oh, baby,” Alex whispers, like the answer breaks his heart. “I had no idea.”
“It’s not a big deal,” Henry tries to reassure even as his lips tremble slightly. “Really, I—”
“It is a big deal.” Alex’s firm voice cuts through his thoughts. His eyes stare directly into Henry’s, sharp and glimmering with poorly concealed anger. “It is a big deal,” he repeats, voice softer, “when your grandmother tells you to hide a part of yourself from the world when you’re barely even a teenager.” He pauses again, watching Henry like he’s staring into his soul. When he speaks again, his voice is barely a whisper. “Especially because it seems like you believe her.”
Henry stays silent.
He remembers the first time it happened; how his grandmother pulled him aside before a photoshoot and grabbed his chin with her thumb and pointy finger, inspecting his face with narrowed eyes. Princes are supposed to be the example of perfection, she’d said as she beckoned a make-up artist closer to cover every single one of his freckles.
He remembers not understanding what was wrong with him and her refusing to explain any further. How he faked a smile for his parents when they asked if he was alright, and how he continued to fake a smile for the years afterwards until he didn’t have the energy anymore, and simply endured it.
The way Alex is looking at him right now makes him wish he’d done it differently.
“I think… I started to believe her after a while,” Henry says after a few minutes of silence, voice quiet. Alex’s expression cracks.
“Baby— no,” he says firmly, and leans down to press their lips together in a bruising kiss before Henry can answer. Alex kisses him like he wants to erase all the pain from Henry’s past with a single touch, and Henry loves him so much all he can do is kiss back and try not to cry.
“Hen,” he whispers against his lips, “You don’t have to hide yourself anymore. You’re never gonna have to hide yourself again; not with me, baby, not with anyone.”
Henry feels him pull back slightly and brush his thumbs over Henry’s eyelids until he opens them again. Through his blurry vision, he can make out the small smile on Alex’s face, eyes looking down at him with so much love it’s almost like staring at the sun.
“I love them, you know?”
Henry tries to swallow past the lump in his throat and ignores the tears pooling at the corners of his eyes. “You do? Even if—”
“Even if nothing,” Alex interrupts gently, placing a finger on his lips. “You’re beautiful, sweetheart. Every single part of you is beautiful, and that includes your freckles.”
If Henry tried to speak right now, he’d probably sob, so he goes for a nod instead and tightens his hands around Alex’s back. His boyfriend’s eyes search him for another few seconds before smiling widely.
“Freckles are so fucking cute, anyway,” he says hotly with his eyes fixed on Henry’s cheeks, startling a laugh out of him. “I’m gonna kill your grandmother whenever I see her again for making you think otherwise.”
“I would rather you didn’t,” Henry says with another laugh. “You’d probably be away from me, and we can’t have that.”
“No, we certainly can’t have that,” Alex agrees softly. “Not when I still have to show you how fucking beautiful you are.”
Henry’s mouth is already forming the words ‘you don’t have to’ but they never make it past his lips; mostly because Alex chooses that moment to lean down again and presses a lingering kiss to the bridge on Henry’s noise – he’s helpless to do much else than exhale shakily.
Alex’s lips are soft but insistent where they travel from Henry’s nose to both of his cheeks, leaving kiss after kiss after kiss. It’s like he’s trying to show each individual freckle the amount of care and attention they didn’t get in the last ten years, mapping them with his mouth until there isn’t a single coherent thought left in Henry’s brain.
“I love you,” Alex murmurs with one last kiss to Henry’s cheekbones, thumbs brushing along his jawline. He very deliberately makes eye-contact with Henry and doesn’t look away. “You know I love you with all your imperfections, because you’re a tea snob and you like the wrong Star Wars movie,” he says with a smile that grows when Henry mirrors it, “but this isn’t one of them. This isn’t imperfect, H, it’s just a part of you. A damn gorgeous one, if I do say so myself.”
“You’re biased,” Henry whispers, but he’s smiling so wide he can barely feel his face.
Alex shrugs slightly. “So I’m in love with you. Fucking sue me.”
“Thank you,” Henry says when his voice isn’t thick with emotions anymore. “For everything you say and keep saying. It’s… it’s easier to believe it when it comes from you.”
Alex’s smile is everything Henry has ever dreamed of. “Good. Because I’m gonna keep saying it.”
How did Henry ever get so lucky?
It doesn’t really matter, he thinks as he tugs Alex down for another smiling kiss. He’s got what he wants, and he’s not planning to let go of it.
Later that night before they go to bed, Henry goes to the last drawer of his bedside table and takes out the makeup kit he brought when they first moved into the brownstone. It’s still unopened.
He throws it in the garbage without a second thought. He’s never gonna need it.