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I’ll break the sound barrier for you
Alex hurries even more when he sees Henry coming down the stairs. He’s not running, but Alex can tell he’s desperate. He reaches out and when they finally meet, Henry falls into his arms or maybe he falls into Henry’s arms or maybe they fall into each other’s arms. Alex doesn’t know.
They both collapse on the stairs, and Henry’s clutching at him as if for dear life and Alex is holding him like he’ll never let go.
“I’m here,” he whispers over and over again, almost like a prayer. “I’m here baby. I’m here and I love you.”
He doesn’t tell Henry everything will be okay; because he doesn’t know. He promised they’d figure it out, but he doesn’t know exactly what that means. But whatever happens, they’re together, and that’s what matters the most.
Alex hadn’t planned on flying back to London that night. Everything had been sent into a frenzy when the news first broke. He hadn’t been allowed to use his phone for hours after the leak, and there was no answer from Henry when he did finally call.
Then Miguel – goddamn Miguel Ramos – had been revealed as the mastermind behind the entire thing.
Was he really so bitter about Alex’s rejection that he’d hack all the emails he wrote to Henry – thousands of words, hundreds of secrets – and then go on MSNBC and claim this was all to smear his mother's campaign?
Alex was too angry to care about the specifics. All he knew was he needed to set the record – how ironic – straight.
Watching his speech back in Zahra’s office he’d felt mixed emotions. Relieved that it was over. Anxious that it could have cost his mother the election. Proud to be Henry’s boyfriend. And desperate to see him again.
Then to his complete shock – on more than one level – Zahra had swooped in to save the day; and had Shaan put him and Henry on the phone with one another.
As soon as Henry admitted he wasn’t okay, Alex had started mentally planning what he needed to do. Getting to London as soon as possible was his priority. Henry was hurting far more than he was. He had to be there.
He was on Air Force One and on his way within the hour. He’d left DC at six in the evening.
It is two in the morning back home.
Except that the White House isn’t home. Not really.
Right now – at six in the morning UK time with Henry in his arms, sitting on the staircase in Kensington Palace – this is home.
“I’m not leaving until you’re okay,” he assures Henry.
Alex doesn’t plan on even leaving the staircase yet. Not until Henry’s ready. That could be hours, or it could be minutes. It doesn’t matter. He will wait.
He will always wait.
“I’m not sorry,” Henry murmurs. “That people know.”
“Neither am I,” Alex replies.
He stands by everything he said up there at the podium in the Briefing Room. He wishes they could’ve been in control of this. He hates that their relationship was shoved out into the world before they were ready.
But he isn’t sorry that they know.
Henry pulls back to look at him. He kisses him softly and gently, before laying his head back on Alex’s shoulder.
“Thank you for coming,” he whispers.
“Of course.”
Henry hugs him tighter and Alex swears, in that moment, he’s more in love than he’s ever been before.