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“God, baby, you were amazing!” Alex exclaims as he steps into Henry’s bedroom at Kensington. “I mean, I may not know much about polo still, but I do know that you looked incredible out there!” Alex gestures wildly with his hands to illustrate his excitement. “And that’s not even counting how good you looked in that uniform.” Alex winks.
“Hm. Is that so?” Henry asks with a smirk as he closes the door behind him.
Alex moves in closer, almost but not quite crowding Henry against the door.
“It is, actually,” he says in a voice just above a whisper. “You know how I feel about you in those boots, sweetheart.”
Henry takes a step toward Alex, towering over him ever so slightly in a way that makes Alex suddenly appreciative of their height difference.
“I don’t know; I seem to have forgotten,” Henry says, his blue eyes boring into Alex with a sudden and hypnotic intensity. “Why don’t you remind me exactly how you feel?”
Alex doesn’t even think as he fists his hands in Henry’s shirt and pulls him into a searing kiss. God, the sway this man has over him. It should be illegal, the way his body craves Henry’s. The way he goes weak at the knees at something as simple as Henry in his polo uniform. Or Henry tying a tie with practiced ease, Henry rolling his sleeves up to his elbows, Henry just looking at him from across the room with that softness behind his eyes. It really doesn’t take much, Alex muses.
And now, with Henry’s hand buried in his curls, Henry’s tongue in his mouth, his thigh pushing its way between Alex’s, Alex isn’t quite sure he won’t simply dissolve entirely where he stands right now.
Somehow, they make it to the bed. There’s a brief tussle as they both seem to want to be the one to pin the other down, but Henry wins out in the end, or so he thinks. Alex looks up Henry, who’s grinning at his perceived victory, and Alex chooses that moment to grab Henry by his shoulders and flip him before he can get out whatever witty remark he was about to say.
Alex knows how this goes. The moment Henry is on his back, he’ll admit defeat and let Alex lavish his face and neck in kisses that inevitably travel south, and before long Alex will have Henry whimpering and stifling moans, his hand gripping Alex’s hair as if it were the only thing keeping him grounded to this earth, but none of that happens.
Instead, the moment Henry’s back hits the mattress, his face contorts in what is most definitely pain and he sucks air in through his teeth as if he's just been burned. Alex immediately backs off. He pulls his hands away from Henry’s shoulders and leans back, his legs bracketed on either side of Henry’s waist.
“Henry?” he asks carefully. Any amount of lust that Alex was feeling is gone and fully replaced with concern as he waits for Henry to answer.
But Henry doesn’t answer. He doesn’t look up at Alex, either. Instead he keeps his eyes shut tight and turns his head away. His face is pinched, his mouth pressed into a firm line as if he’s holding something back.
“Baby? What’s going on? Are you okay?” Alex’s mind is suddenly reeling. Did he hurt Henry somehow? Surely he wasn’t that rough, was he? They’ve done this sort of thing in bed a million times before and nothing like this has ever happened. Did he miss something?
Alex looks pleadingly at Henry, waiting for him to answer, but still he keeps his head turned and stays quiet.
“Okay, Hen, I’m gonna need you to say something now because you’re kind of really scaring me.”
And finally, finally Henry turns to face Alex, though still doesn’t meet his eyes, and says in voice so small that Alex has to strain to hear him,
“It’s my shoulder.”
Alex’s eyes widen. He watches as Henry brings his left hand up to cover his right shoulder, his face still set in a grimace.
“Your shoulder?” Alex repeats. “What is it? Is it hurt?”
Henry takes a shaky breath and to Alex’s surprise and confusion, shakes his head.
“No, no,” he says. He takes another breath, longer this time, and his face relaxes marginally. “It’s fine.”
“I’m sorry, it’s fine? No offense, sweetheart, but you don’t exactly look fine right now.”
“It’s nothing, Alex,” Henry says, gingerly pushing himself up into a sitting position.
Alex climbs off of Henry’s midsection and sits next to him, wanting to stay close to comfort him, but not so close that he ends up hurting him more without meaning to.
“It doesn’t look like nothing, Hen. Did I hurt you?” Alex asks, though he’s a little afraid of the answer.
Henry turns to Alex, hand still on his shoulder as if keeping it there will help with the pain somehow.
“What? No, Alex, no. It was already-” Henry cuts himself off and looks away.
“It was already what? What’s going on? Henry, please talk to me.”
Henry takes a deep, shuddering breath.
“It was already hurting,” he says quietly, as if admitting a secret. “After the match. It does that every now and then.”
“It does? Since when?”
“Since I was younger. Fifteen or sixteen; I’m not sure.”
“What happened?” Alex asks carefully.
“Well, I used to play polo a lot more back then. And between that and the rowing team and the tennis practice, it all caught up to me, I suppose. I tore my rotator cuff. I had to stop playing, go to physical therapy, all of that. It’s fine now; it just flares up sometimes.”
“Fuck,” Alex says with a sigh. “But...why didn’t you say anything? I’ve gone to a bunch of your matches and you’ve never said anything before.”
Henry shakes his head minutely and looks, if Alex is reading him right, somewhat guilty.
“I didn’t want to make a fuss,” he says quietly. Alex’s heart breaks at his words. He wants nothing more than to scoop Henry up in his arms, smother him with kisses and tell him over and over again how much he’s loved, just to make up for all the years that Henry thought otherwise. But he can’t do that now without physically hurting him, so as gently as he can, Alex places his hand on Henry’s back and rubs his thumb back and forth in a soothing motion.
“Henry, saying you’re in pain isn’t making a fuss,” he tells him. “Asking for help isn’t making a fuss.”
“I know that, logically,” Henry says. “It's just not always easy to remember. Princes aren't meant to complain."
“Fuck that,” Alex says without hesitation. That startles a small laugh out of Henry, causing him to wince again and clutch his shoulder. “Okay, we can unpack that later, but right now I need to know what to do. Should I call Shaan? Do you need to see a doctor?”
Again, Henry laughs a little, though it’s clearly somewhat pained.
“None of that,” he says. “I just need…”
Alex waits and watches as Henry’s eyes flit back and forth as if searching for the right words to say.
“I’m sorry,” Henry says after a few more moments. “I’m just not used to...to…”
“Asking for what you need?”
Henry nods.
God, Alex wants to hug him so bad, and he already would be if he didn’t know it would just make things worse right now.
“Well, just know that you're allowed, baby,” Alex says, making sure to meet Henry’s eyes as he speaks. “You're allowed to ask for what you need, and I'll be here to try to help you get it, okay?"
Alex can see tears begin to well up in the corners of Henry’s eyes, but he smiles softly and nods nonetheless.
“Good,” Alex says. “Now what do you need, baby?”
“Well, some paracetamol to start, I suppose.”
“Paracetamol. That’s like, British Tylenol right?”
“Yes, you American demon.” Henry rolls his eyes fondly, and Alex feels himself relax at Henry’s teasing.
“Okay, I can do that.” Alex sits up a bit straighter, puffs out his chest. He’s got a task to complete now, and Alex, ever the overachiever, is prepared to complete it to the best of his ability and then some. “What else?”
“A hot water bottle usually helps. There’s one in my nightstand.”
“Painkillers. Hot water bottle. Got it. What else? Oh!” Alex nearly jumps in excitement at his own thought. “I can make you tea! I know how to do it properly now so you can’t judge me. And I can bring you Jaffa cakes! You have Jaffa cakes hidden in here somewhere, right? Oh, and we can watch Bake Off on my laptop! We never finished Bread Week, if I’m remembering right.”
Henry is looking at him funny by the time he finishes talking. It’s the strangest thing; his eyes are full of tears, but he’s smiling so warmly at Alex that Alex feels a blush start to creep up on his face.
“What?” Alex asks.
“I love you,” Henry says simply.
The words catch Alex slightly off guard, stopping his ever-speeding train of through in its tracks.
“I love you too, Hen,” he says, a softness in his voice that surprises even himself. But he shakes off the sudden well of emotion before it pulls him down and distracts him from his current mission. “But we gotta focus. What else can I do to help?”
Henry’s smile fades slowly as he thinks. He looks down and fidgets with the edge of his sleeve. Alex pushes down his impatient nature and gives Henry the time.
“If you could just stay with me,” Henry says eventually, “I would like that. Just lie with me.” He says it like he’s asking for the world. Like he’s asking for this huge favor when Alex assumed it was a given. It’s what Alex would’ve done, anyway. It’s what he always wants to do, regardless.
“Baby, of course I’ll stay with you,” Alex says. “Where else would I have gone?” he asks, slightly teasing.
Henry smirks a little.
“I don’t know. I thought perhaps you’d get bored. I might fall asleep once the painkillers kick in.”
Alex leans in closer and runs a hand carefully, soothingly through Henry’s hair. Henry closes his eyes and leans in to the touch.
“That’s fine, H. You probably should get some rest, anyway, especially after the match today. And if you do fall asleep, I’ll work on one of my papers for class, or I’ll catch up with emails, or watch a movie. I want to be here with you. You know that, right?”
“Of course, love.”
“Good.” Alex grins. “Now, I’m gonna go gather up the supplies. Be right back!” He leans over and plants a kiss on the top of Henry’s head before practically jumping off of the bed in his haste to get everything he needs.
An hour later finds Alex under the covers of Henry’s bed, Henry resting his head on Alex’s shoulder as the last few minutes of the Bake Off episode play out on the laptop in front of them. The painkillers started to kick in after a half an hour or so, and the hot water bottle helped until that point. Alex kept a running commentary on the show as they watched to distract Henry from the pain, which he assumed not only worked but also served to effectively put Henry to sleep, as he’s almost completely knocked out against him now.
A few more minutes go by and Alex assumes that Henry is fully asleep now, so he’s surprised when he hears his voice, rough and quiet and soft around the edges.
“This was all I ever wanted, you know,” Henry says. “When I was younger.”
Alex squeezes Henry’s good shoulder and nuzzles into his hair.
“What was?” he asks.
“This,” Henry says. “Someone to sit with me when I was in pain.”
It feels too delicate of an admission for Alex to say anything just yet, so he stays quiet and nods gently to encourage Henry to go on.
“I hate to sound ungrateful,” Henry says. “I had access to incredible medical care. The best physical therapists. Anything I needed, in that regard. But when all the doctors left, when my appointments were over, I was alone. And it hurt so much. How do you tell a medical professional that you don’t want a stronger painkiller, you just want someone to hold you for a while?”
Alex shakes his head and squeezes Henry’s shoulder again to let him know he’s here and he’s listening.
“It was the same, after my dad….” Henry trails off. “I just wanted someone there. I didn’t want to talk. I just didn’t want to be alone with the pain.” He rubs at his eyes and clears his throat. “I’m sorry. I’m being dramatic.”
“I like your dramatics,” Alex says with a smirk. Henry slaps him lightly on the thigh. “And you’re not alone anymore, okay? I’m here,” Alex tells him in a softer voice. “And if you’re ever in pain, physically or mentally, and you just need someone to be with you, I’ll be there. I’ll always be there. You’re kinda stuck with me now, sweetheart.”
Henry picks his head up and looks at Alex with a small smile and a warmth behind his eyes that Alex swears he could live inside.
“I am, aren’t I?” Henry asks. He leans forward and presses a languid, lingering kiss to Alex’s lips. “And I wouldn’t have it any other way.”