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“Made me very proud to be your boyfriend,” Henry had said.
And Alex replied; “I’m always proud to be your boyfriend.”
Henry made his little snide upperclass joke and Alex grinned and laughed as if he had just heard the most hilarious thing in the world. Then the moment was interrupted and quickly forgotten as they readied themselves to meet with the King.
And it probably should have been the end of the topic — for Alex, perhaps it truly was. But for Henry, who tends to overthink things for the worse, he just can’t forget about it.
I shouldn’t have made that joke, he thinks on one of the nights he finds himself dwelling on bad memories. I should have made it clear I’m just as constantly proud to be his boyfriend, as well. I should have shown that I’ve been proud to be his boyfriend more often. Have I ever even shown it before? Does he even realize how happy I am with him?
He glances over at Alex; peacefully asleep. Alex, who has always been so quick to show him off to everyone he cares about, even before they were forced to come out publicly. Alex, who refused to stop seeing him even if it put his mother’s campaign in jeopardy. Alex, who was willing to wait for Henry, even without any estimation on how long. Alex, who has never given Henry any reason to doubt he is anything but proud to be his boyfriend.
And now, Henry is determined to do the same.
💕1💕
Lucky for him, he gets his first opportunity the very next day.
He and Percy are meeting with a couple — Ruth and Elsie — who are going to donate to the Brooklyn shelter, and Alex has the day off so he tags along. They get out of the car and Henry quickly grabs Alex’s hand, lacing their fingers together. He can feel the faint ache of smiling too wide and tries to tone it down a little; he’d hate to appear obnoxious.
One of the women they’re meeting with opens the door and greets them as Elsie. Ruth appears beside her and smiles out at Henry and Percy, then looks at Alex and before she can speak Henry blurts; “I’m sure you both already know my boyfriend.” It surprises him how easily it rolls off his tongue; how nice it feels to say out loud. He wants to say it again. My boyfriend, my boyfriend, my boyfriend, he says only in his head, because it likely will come off a little strange to literally repeat the title. “Alex Claremont-Diaz, the First Son of the United States,” is what he says instead, beaming at Alex while he does.
“Yes, I believe we may have recognized our amazing president's very handsome son,” Ruth says with a wink at Alex.
“Now, now, don’t you start flirting,” Elsie scolds her. “Besides, didn’t you hear His Royal Highness very clearly lay his claim on him already.” The women laugh, Alex and Percy laugh. Henry feels like his face is on fire; he can only imagine the shade of red he’s turning by now. “Come on inside boys,” Elsie says, stepping aside for everyone to pass her, “and let’s discuss things.”
The conversation goes well, and the ladies happily hand over the donation, then offer the boys some cookies to have with milk during which they ask Henry and Alex how they met. Henry doesn’t even give Alex a chance to speak before diving headfirst into their story. He is telling everything — he’s even spilling details he probably shouldn’t be telling without some sort of NDA. He’s like a broken faucet spouting water all over these poor ladies who probably only expected a simple answer ( the Melbourne Climate Conference a few years ago) and instead received a flood of personal information.
“Uh… H, I— I think they’ve probably heard enough of our little love story,” Alex says just before he can get into what he deems one of the most touching parts; Alex flying to KP to be with him after being kept apart from the email leak for so long.
“Oh it’s fine,” Ruth laughs. “Hearing your lovely story reminds me of way back when we met, right dear?” She looks at the other woman and smiles.
“Yes,” Elsie agrees with a fond reminiscing smile. “Young love… nothing quite like it. It was different back in those days — difficult in its own way — but we held on and made it work.” Elsie smiles over at Ruth, then takes Henry’s hand. “You make sure you cherish each other everyday just as much as you did when you first fell in love.”
“We will,” Henry says immediately.
“Then I suspect in fifty five years you will get to think back on, and cherish, these days, like we are now.”
A part of Henry looks forward to getting to do just that.
💕2💕
When the King suggests Henry and Alex do a photoshoot to announce that they are officially courting, Alex laughs and Henry feels some mixture of annoyance and disappointment in his grandfather for using a situation he doesn’t even fully accept as a way to keep up appearances. Add to that the photographer he hires to capture their little staged outing is an absolute arse. Henry is ready to go home (to Brooklyn, definitely not KP) the moment they arrive.
The photographer barely even greets them, just jumps straight into putting them in all these ridiculous scenarios: Sit on the bench together and look at His Royal Highness's book; Sir take his hand and lean into his arm (as if Henry needs to be told how to walk with Alex); now, American, look at the Prince and smile.
“He has a name,” Henry says to the last demand.
The photographer looks up over his camera and sputters; “I– I beg your pardon, sir?”
“I said, he has a name – Alex – and I would appreciate it if you would not refer to him as just American again.”
“Ah– yes, sir; of course, sir.” The photographer looks at them, then his camera, back at them and clears his throat. “Please let us continue.”
“Yes, but…” Henry takes Alex’s hand and smiles. “Not here.”
“I’m sorry, sir. Not here ?”
“If we’re going to do this whole, ridiculous , thing… we’re going to do it the right way.” He leads the way, still holding Alex’s hand tightly in his own. Alex hasn’t said anything since Henry’s remarks to the photographer, but there is a noticeable blush spreading over Alex’s nose and across his cheeks, and a soft fond smile covering his face, deepening his dimples.
They walk through the streets of London, holding hands. People are watching them – actually quite a large crowd of people has formed to watch them have their pictures taken for the King’s little publicity stunt. Security is having to keep the onlookers at bay, and Henry can’t help but glance down at his and Alex’s hands because he knows that this actually does matter, just not in the way he was afraid it would. It matters because it’s accepted – they’re accepted – when he has spent his whole life being told he never would be. It matters because of the group standing just before the gates to the palace wearing History, Huh? shirts and holding signs that say We Love FirstPrince and then one yells out that Henry and Alex gave them the courage to come out to their family. All the while behind them Henry can hear the constant sound of a camera’s shutter as the photographer takes his pictures.
Henry takes Alex to the gardens where he told him he’d taken the memory of their first meeting. If there needs to be pictures to show the world who and what they are to each other, they should be taken in a place that means something. So he stops at the Maple tree and instructs the photographer to get one of them there. “As you wish, Your Royal Highness – er Mr. Claremont-Diaz if you would switch sides, please.”
Alex moves without hesitation – you must stand to the right of His Royal Highness – but Henry stops him. “He’s fine where he is.”
“But sir it’s…”
“To hell with protocol,” Henry interrupts. “The point of this is for the people to meet my boyfriend. To see us together and happy and in love; not to see my good side.”
Alex’s eyes and smile widen. “Not gonna lie your bad side is kinda hot right now,” he whispers, making Henry laugh; the photographer capturing the moment in a burst of pictures.
💕3💕
“Do you all remember who this is?” Henry asks the group of children. It’s nice to be at the hospital again and not have dozens of Cameras crowding the halls.
The children giggle and nod, one raising his hand and answering; “He’s the son of the President of the United States.”
“That’s correct,” Henry says. “He’s also–”
“He’s also your boyfriend .” A small, soft voice says from the back of the group, and Henry recognizes it immediately. Sitting on a bean bag in a bright pink dress with a full head of new short brown hair, the little girl smiles at them brightly.
“Hello *Claudette.”
“Hi Henr– I mean Your Royal Highness,” she replies after being nudged by her nurse to correct herself.
“Henry is perfectly fine, dear. And yes, he is my boyfriend.” Henry looks at Alex proudly and she giggles. The other children in the room seem more mystified that Claudette seems to actually know the Prince, than her statement; although one does ask if that means they like kiss and stuff . “Uh– yeah, sometimes,” Henry answers awkwardly.
There’s a unanimous Eww throughout the room causing Henry and Alex to laugh.
They read a book to the children together, Henry getting to don the silly costume this time, to Alex’s delight as much as the children’s. Afterwards they color pictures together, and Henry is reminded children can be brutal with their honesty when a little boy says his portrait of David looks like the poor dog was hit by a car. Before they are due to leave they pass out some snacks they brought for the children.
Henry pulls a chair up to Claudette’s table and puts her plate down beside all her art supplies and cute little doodles she’s made for the day. “You must be truly happy now that Alex is your boyfriend,” she says randomly, putting her colored pencils down to eat the snack.
“Oh?” Henry replies. “What makes you say that?”
“Because your eyes are smiling now as well,” she continues, nonchalantly like it’s just common knowledge. “When we would watch you on the telly, you always had sad eyes. My mum said it seemed like you were never truly happy. But you are now, aren’t you?”
“Yes. I am,” he says.
“Good,” she smiles. “I drew you a picture!”
“You did?” She smiles bashfully and nods, pulling out a paper from her stack. “Now what do we have – Oh…” he gasps as a lump forms in his throat that cuts off his voice. *The picture is of him and Alex staring into each other's eyes, but they are drawn as Princess Leia and Han Solo. “I– I love this,” He says, and Claudette smiles. “Thanks commander…”
💕4💕
Alex has met Princess Catherine a few times. Most of them were pre cake-gate though, and he only saw her across the room the day of Philip and Martha’s wedding. After the email leak Alex – hell even Henry, if he’s being honest – has only seen her through the random Zoom calls she sporadically has with her children.
When she says she’s back coming home to London, and asks Henry and Alex to come so she can meet him properly, Henry’s nervous.
Perhaps it’s because this is the first time he has seen his mother in over a year, and he will be introducing her to Alex at the same time. Perhaps it’s because even though he’s certain she will be accepting and he knows she will love Alex, his experience with his family’s reactions to his personal life – save for Bea – have all left him with a bitter taste in his mouth. Perhaps it’s because he almost feels closer to Alex’s mom at this point, and it doesn’t feel right for her to come swooping in now playing the loving in-law (well not official in-law… but still).
“Hello, my baby!” Catherine greets Henry at the door. Her arms open wide and her smile is warm and inviting; and Henry can’t help but to let himself melt into her embrace regardless of the strain he feels she has put on their relationship with her absence.
“Hi mum.”
Catherine pulls back and wipes a hand over Henry’s face – brushing off a tear he didn’t mean to let fall – and caressing his cheek. Alex stays behind him, quietly letting them have their moment. Henry is about to introduce them when he hears car tires squealing and Phillip comes speeding up the long wrap-around driveway. “I guess this is just how you all make an entrance,” Alex teases quietly so only Henry can hear, and Henry playfully jabs him with an elbow.
“Mother,” Philip says, as he exits the car to go open the door for Martha.
“Son,” Catherine deadpans back, and Henry hears Alex stifling a laugh. “Hello Martha, dear.” The younger woman hugs the Princess as she passes, while Philip eyes Alex.
“I see you brought your… friend,” he says, curtly.
“Yes, I brought my boyfriend to meet with mum, just like you brought your wife.” He smiles apologetically at Martha for his attitude, and she smiles back understandingly. “What exactly is your point, Philip?”
Philip only scoffs and takes Martha’s hand as they continue inside. Bea bounces up the steps close behind them and gives their mother a kiss on the cheek. “It’s so good to see you,” she says.
Once it’s just the three of them again, Henry takes a deep breath; “Before anyone else interrupts us, mum, Alex… Alex, mum,” he laughs, halfheartedly.
Catherine takes Alex’s hands and pulls him into a hug whispering something in his ear that sounds like a thank you. For what Henry’s unsure. Then she lets him go to hook her arm around Henry’s and they go in to try and have a semi-normal – ignoring Philip’s constant eyerolls and huffs in disapproval at him and Alex – family dinner.
💕5💕
The restaurant was practically buzzing from all the voices talking over each other. It was absolutely packed; the only empty tables being the ones reserved for their party. Part of Henry wondered if he had made a mistake by wanting to do this so publicly. The other part of him — a much bigger part thankfully — was so excited that the day was finally here, that the crowded restaurant meant nothing more than added witnesses.
“Ah yes, table for twelve for His Royal Highness and company,” the host says as they approach the podium. “This is quite a large group, must be celebrating something special?” Henry smiles at the man who likely has already been filled in on his plans.
They are shown to their table and mid way through their meal they are approached by another man in a suit and bow tie. He greets Percy first before walking over to Henry. He’s the owner of the restaurant and a huge supporter of many of Percy’s organizations. Percy introduced them after he and Henry brainstormed different locations for the big night. “Mr. Ray, it’s good to see you,” Henry says, shaking the man’s hand.
“You as well, Your Royal Highness,” Mr. Ray replies. “And what an honor it is to have such a star studded guest list in my establishment tonight.” He makes his way around the table greeting everyone, before stopping back at Henry’s seat. “I hope you all have enjoyed your meal thus far, and a heads up that a complimentary – celebratory – dessert will be brought out shortly.” He gives Henry a quick wink, and Henry notices the confused looks it gets from most people around the table; especially Alex, who looks like he’s about to ask what exactly they are celebrating. “Well I’ll leave you to it then,” Mr. Ray says before pulling a microphone out of his pocket and handing it to Henry. He walks away after a whispered Good luck.
“Uh… what are you doing?” Alex asks when Henry takes a deep breath and turns the mic on.
“Something I never thought I’d ever get the chance to do, so shush before I chicken out.” Henry laughs to make it clear he is only teasing, at least about the last part. He taps the mic to see if it’s on and a loud static screech rings out over the restaurant's speakers. “My apologies,” he says into the mic. Now he has the attention of not only Alex and everyone at their table, but the whole restaurant who is instantly hyperfocused on what the Prince has to say.
(That smaller part of him is wishing they had been annoyed so he could reconsider doing what he’s about to do so publicly.)
He hasn’t even realized he’s taken Alex’s hand until he feels a gentle squeeze of his fingers; Alex is staring at him, confused but also like he’s gauging if Henry is alright. Henry feels a warmth spread through him that pushes his nerves aside. “Everyone will have to bear with me, I’m not big on public speaking,” he says, squeezing Alex’s hand back before releasing it so he can stand up. “I’m more of a smile and wave from the sidelines while others–” He looks down at Alex and smiles. “– give their big eloquent speeches for all the world to hear. I usually don’t mind, because I like my life to be quiet, and calm, and as much out of the public's eye as I am able to keep it. But I believe that sometimes – opinions, and thoughts, and feelings – deserve to be shared loudly.
“Some time ago I met this devastatingly handsome man at a party in Melbourne, and I fell head over heels for him immediately; without even really knowing him, before we had even had the chance to properly meet. And through many years of trial and error – a ton of miscommunication, and dancing around each other unaware of the feelings hiding just beneath the surface – it took a giant £75,000 buttercream flavored disaster for us to finally get the chance to truly see one another. And I am so happy that it happened – apologetic to my brother, of course, for destroying his wedding cake–” There’s a laugh from the entire room, and it only helps to keep Henry’s nerves at bay for the part that’s to come. “– but it led us to this moment, here tonight. I never thought I would be free to share my life with someone I was truly in love with, but now I am.”
Alex’s face is honestly unreadable. He looks shocked, pale… Henry is beginning to wonder if he is even breathing; or perhaps he has died. He reaches out his hand, and Alex takes it, allowing Henry to pull him to his feet.
“I love you, Alexander Gabriel Claremont-Diaz. I want to experience every exciting milestone, and every hard one, as well. I want to wake up every morning to your gorgeous face, and your god awful morning breath. I want us to get to watch each other grow in our passions and share our dreams, and create the most wonderful life together. I want to spend the rest of my life with you. But I don’t want to just be proud to be your boyfriend anymore,” he says this as he lets go of Alex’s hand to reach into his pocket, pulling out a small velvet box. “I want to be proud to be your husband.”
Then he is falling to one knee like he has seen done in so many swoony romance movies before. It feels so right, like it was a pose he was born to take. He can feel his breathing becoming uneven as he tries to muster the courage to look back up at Alex, but when he finally does, all his worry disappears. Alex has tears filling his eyes, soaking through his long lashes, and falling down his cheeks; and he is smiling. He doesn’t even feel like he needs to ask the final question at this point, that smile has given him his answer. He does anyway, for the sake of always wanting to get to say those four words. Alex’s breath hitches. He hasn’t said a word since Henry began speaking, and now it’s his turn. Henry half expects a sarcastic, do you even half to ask, or a playful, no shit, I’ll marry you. He gets a simple, soft, but affirmative; “Yes.”
💕6💕
The air is a bit chilly when Henry steps out of the car. He walks around to where Alex is already out and waiting for him, taking his hand and intertwining their fingers. Alex’s wedding band presses into Henry’s palm and he pulls his pinky finger back to run over it. “You ok?” Alex asks, giving his hand a squeeze.
“I– I am,” Henry replies. He is; at least he’s fairly certain he is. “I just wish I would have done this a long time ago.”
They walk down a well kept path to the very back of the lot, stopping at the last row. Henry stares down until he sees the array of flowers he knows Bea laid out the day before. He takes a deep breath and guides Alex down the row to the spot. The large marble headstone is covered in etched pictures of their little family. Memories of what used to be. His parents dancing around an empty ballroom for their tenth anniversary; Philip raised up on Arthurs shoulders, laughing down at their father (reminding Henry his brother wasn’t always so uptight); Bea handing Arthur a handful of picked wildflowers; Henry riding shotgun in one of the prop cars on the set of one of his father’s movies. Alex is scanning over every picture, quietly being introduced to Arthur Fox through these random moments captured in time.
Henry doesn’t visit his father’s grave often. He will come with Bea when she asks, and every year on his birthday they all come as a family. He struggles to wrap his head around the point of giving a stone new flowers when the body that the stone is monumenting has long since withered away, but it’s a way his sister especially has chosen to grieve and so he humors the idea for her.
Today, however, he woke up with a nagging pain deep in his heart. His father would have loved Alex. He would have thought his antics were hilarious and he can just hear him teasing Henry on how opposite they are sometimes, but it’s good because they balance each other out. He can see his dad and Alex in a ridiculous arm wrestling match, and honestly he doesn’t know who would win, but the other would definitely pout afterwards. He can imagine going to pick up their future kids only to find out his dad has disappeared with them to spend the day out getting into all kinds of mischief like he would do with Henry and his siblings when they were little.
It all was just so unfair, and the feeling came on so suddenly Henry felt like he couldn’t breathe. He snuck out of the bed, leaving a note for Alex that he was going to visit his mother, and made his way to Buckingham Palace. He rushed through the halls until he found the old dusty ballroom and flung the door open. He went around the room pulling back the curtains and lighting up the floor. And that’s where Alex found him; standing alone in the middle of the massive ballroom with the most painful of all his memories, the one that he’d stored there, dancing around him.
Alex had suggested they visit the gravesite.
They say it can help you feel reconnected to a loved one when you talk to them as if they are there. “Hi dad,” Henry finally says softly. Beside him Alex tightens his grip on Henry’s hand. “I think it's time I introduce you to my husband.”