Chapter Text
Henry was likely embodying the epitome of a dickhead at that moment, as he pressed record with a smile while his husband blinked up at him with dazed, dopey eyes. But in his defence, the rollercoaster of the past twenty-four hours had left him ridiculously out of whack. Alex's surprise appendicitis had sent them careening to the hospital at an hour when the world was cloaked in darkness and most sensible people were in bed.
The operation had been seamless, and the doctors’ assurances of success and quick recovery had left Henry awash with thankfulness. He was caught between bone-deep exhaustion and an overwhelming sense of relief. Now, there was Alex, alert and visibly annoyed by the restrictive hospital gown, flirting with the idea of throwing it off. Groggy and with eyes wide, Alex bore an uncanny resemblance to an oversized, disoriented puppy. Henry, with affection, extended a plastic bowl of strawberries—soft, easy to eat, and light.
“Eat up, love,” Henry's voice was soft and gentle as he carefully sat on the edge of his husband's bed.
He grips his phone with both hands, bringing Alex’s face back into focus. He knows he's probably not being the nicest husband right now, but filming Alex like this was payback for the time Alex posted those ridiculous photos on Instagram from their delayed honeymoon through the Greek Islands six months ago.
Besides, Alex’s procedure went well, and he's fine. It's just that at this moment, Alex seems to be basking in a state of pure, undiluted bliss. In other words, he is higher than a fucking kite right now. And Henry had to record it for posterity, as sober Alex would definitely want to see this.
Alex nibbles on a cut-up strawberry and makes a face. It’s the picture of a child being forced to eat something he doesn't feel like, and Henry has to hide his chuckles. He doesn’t hide them well enough. Alex looks at him, his eyes narrowed and slightly unfocused.
“Who're you?”
Henry bites his lip, and Alex disappears out of the camera frame when Henry shakes with silent laughter. “I’m Henry. Eat your fruit, Alex; you need it.”
Alex doesn't listen; he just stares at Henry intently. Then his face breaks into a brilliant smile that catches Henry completely off guard; he is looking at Henry as if he is the sun. Henry smiles softly back, suddenly reminded of the numbing fear he felt when Alex doubled over in pain in their Austin home.
“You’re really handsome,” Alex slurs.
“Eat,” Henry tells him, a smile playing on his lips.
Alex just stares at the fruit, slightly cross-eyed. “Am I dead? Are you an angel?”
“Even drugged out of your mind, you're a handful,” Henry says, and reaches out to nudge Alex’s hand back towards the fruit bowl; a piece of strawberry had been hovering dangerously close to the white bed sheets.
“I'mmm not. Are you always this bossy?”
“Oh my god. Well, good to know you're still yourself.”
“Shhhhh.” Alex puts a finger to his lips. “You talk too much.”
Henry is about to tell him to close his mouth and eat, but then Alex winces a little as he shifts, and Henry’s heart softens.
“You are, you know. Really, you’re stunning,” Alex's smile is almost bashful.
“Where'd they find you?”
“I came with you,” Henry tells his husband, zooming in on his husband's face with his phone as Alex's eyes widened with happiness at the news.
“Really? We should go on a date. 'm good at dates.”
“Not as good as you think,” Henry replies, amused.
He's saved from explaining that further by the entrance of the nurse who had introduced herself as Elena earlier in the day. Even though Henry had given up the crown, remnants of his royal heritage lingered. Elena, like many others, struggled to hide her awe when she first met him. Henry lowers his phone but leaves the camera running.
"Your Highness," she says with a slight hesitancy, remembering herself quickly. "Sorry- I mean, Henry." She picks up Alex’s chart from the foot of the bed. "Everything going okay?"
“Relatively,” Henry responds with a smirk. “He doesn’t seem to want to eat, though.”
She nods. “Not entirely uncommon. We can leave it for a bit and see.” She leans in and takes the plastic bowl from Alex’s outstretched hand.
His head lifts. “My treasure!” he says, clearly flustered.
Henry and Elena share a look, and she stifles a chuckle as she hands the bowl back. “Here you go, Alex; you can keep your treasure.”
He gifts her a radiant smile, and Henry can’t help but shake his head.
“Isn’t he handsome?” Alex points at him. “His hair’s nice. And his eyes.”
Elena tries not to grin, and Henry looks away in embarrassment.
“That he is, Alex. You’ve made quite the catch there.”
Alex looks puzzled, and Henry quickly holds up the phone, eager to capture that expression. There’s so much adoration in it that Henry isn’t sure whether he should laugh or tear up.
“What?” Alex asks, looking between them.
“I’m your husband. You should eat, Alex; it’ll help.”
Alex’s eyes widen. “You’re married to me?”
“Of course I am.”
Elena's barely contained glee is evident. No doubt, this will be the topic of conversation at the nurse’s station.
Alex beckons her closer, whispers conspiratorially, “Isn’t he pretty?”
Henry’s face is aflame. Elena nods and moves to the door.
“Take care of him,” she says to Henry, then pauses. “And of yourself. You've both had quite the day.”
“Thanks, Elena. Will do.”
She leaves, and Henry’s left alone with Alex again, the sun filtering through the blinds of the room. Alex looks at him, a bit more aware now.
“We’re really married?”
“Really, truly.”
“Then where’s my wedding ring?”
Henry looks at Alex’s hand and finds it bare. The hospital must have taken it off before the procedure. He sighs and removes his own ring from his hand, slipping it onto Alex’s finger.
Alex’s smile is beautiful. “Now I remember,” he says, his voice hushed. “We’re in love.”
“We are,” Henry says, almost a whisper. “Now, eat your fruit darling.”
Alex grins. “You said darling. It’s official.”
“Just eat,” Henry murmurs, and this time Alex listens.
As he watches, Henry promises himself never to forget this moment—the sight of Alex, still a bit out of it, eating strawberries and wearing Henry’s ring. Henry's phone buzzes, signalling an incoming call. Glancing at the screen, he sees Rafael Luna's name flashing. Damn, he was meant to text Alex’s family the moment his husband woke up—that was nearly two hours ago. They were going to kill him.
"Alex, Raf's calling," Henry says, handing the phone over and clicking on speaker mode before even thinking about it—it had become such a habit when their family or friends called, to take conversation together.
Alex eagerly grabs the phone. "Hey, Raf! Long time no see!" he says cheerfully, his voice still thick with drowsiness. "Or hear, I guess; I can’t see you."
Rafael’s voice is light but relieved. "Just checking in on you kid. You had us all scared shitless for a minute there. You good?"
Alex beams, glancing sideways at Henry, who's trying to look nonchalant. "Raf, have you met my husband? I am more than okay. I can't believe how gorgeous this man is. Have I ever told you I’m bisexual? I am so, so bisexual. I need to ride him."
Henry's face turns crimson, his eyes widening in shock. "Oh my god, Alex!" he exclaims, horrified, wanting to crawl into a hole.
Through the phone Henry heard Rafael trying to suppress his laughter, though it's clear he's enjoying the situation.
"Sounds like the meds are doing wonders," he teases.
Henry, desperately trying to regain some semblance of control, takes the phone from Alex. "No phone calls while you are high," he scolds, his cheeks burning red. "Especially not to federal senators."
Rafael is still chuckling. "Take care of him, Henry. And Alex, rest up. We'll talk when you're sober."
Ending the call, Henry places the phone on the bedside table, looking at Alex with a mix of fondness and exasperation. "You're going to regret that later."
Alex grins cheekily. "Probably. But for now, let's focus on how captivating you are."
Henry shakes his head, laughing. "Jesus Christ, you are ridiculous."
But he doesn't really mean it. Alex is the opposite of ridiculous; he is everything—at least, to Henry. "You are impossible, and I adore you."
A comfortable silence envelops them for a few moments, both lost in their own thoughts. Henry thinks back to the hours of terror, the looming dread of potentially losing Alex, and how that fear has now been replaced by warmth and a surreal sense of happiness. The room's quiet is broken by Alex’s voice. "Henry?"
"Hmm?"
"I'm really hungry. Not for fruit, though."
Henry chuckles. "What do you want, then?"
Alex ponders for a moment, his face scrunching up adorably. "Pizza? Can we order pizza? With extra cheese and pepperoni."
Henry smiles, brushing a stray strand of hair from Alex’s forehead. "Let me check with the nurses. You just had surgery, remember?"
Alex sighs dramatically. "Fine, but if they say no, you owe me a pizza when we get home."
Henry chuckles, standing up to find a nurse. "Deal."
Henry stepped out of the hospital room, a mix of relief and residual tension from the day clouding his thoughts. Cash, their security detail, immediately stood up from where he had been leaning against the wall, his expression showing his concern.
"He's okay," Henry reassured him before Cash could voice the question. "Just a bit... elevated, shall we say."
A look of relief washed over Cash’s face. “That's good to hear, sir.”
Before he went on his hunt for pizza, Henry paused quickly to dig his phone out again, remembering he needed to text Alex’s family before they killed him. If they heard from Raf that Alex was in recovery before he had the chance to tell them, well – there would be hell to pay from his in-laws at the next family dinner.
Considering what to type, Henry’s thumb hovered over the keypad. He should type out a message, something informative and reassuring, yet all he could think of was the video clip burning a hole in his mind. He clicked on the video, watching Alex’s dazed adoration and unfiltered ramblings on how hot his apparent husband was, all while trying to stuff strawberries into his mouth. A grin spread across his face. It was perfect.
A few taps later, the video was flying through the digital ether to Alex's family and their close friends. June would get a kick out of it, Nora would be calling Alex a dork within seconds, and Ellen... well, she would probably need the laugh after a day running the country while worrying about her son’s burst appendix.
June's message popped up first, a string of laughing emojis: Only Alex could get away with being that charming while high. Thank God he’s okay. Let me know when I can call him.
Bea’s response was immediate and teasing: That's the brother-in-law I brag about. Take care of him, and yourself.
Nora’s reply was a picture response, her hand over her mouth trying to stifle her laughter, eyes bright with mirth. The message beneath read: Send him my love, the goof!
Leo’s response came with his signature mix of understatement and emoji overkill: Glad he's okay. Thanks for keeping us in the loop. 👍👍👍👍👍👍👍👍👍👍❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️ – sometimes Henry did not understand how this man had created a multi-billion-dollar tech company.
Oscar's came as a voice message, and when Henry played it, laughter filled the air: "That's my boy, strong and a riot, even on his worst day. Thanks for taking care of him, kiddo."
Alex’s mom's text came through simply and warmly: That's the spirit we need in this country. Glad to see he's doing well. Thank you, Henry.
Pez’s response was all caps, of course: ONLY ALEX COULD MAKE HOSPITAL GOWNS LOOK CHIC! TELL HIM I LOVE HIM! Followed quickly by a second, slightly less shouty message: Henry, you absolute legend. Alex is going to murder you for this when he’s sober, and I can’t wait to witness it. Speedy recovery, mate! Give him kisses from me. xxx.
Henry shot off a quick reply to Pez: I will not. The only kisses he will get will be from me.
He then sent a quick, final text to everyone: He's asking for pizza, which I take as a solid sign all is right in the world again.
Henry slipped his phone back into his pocket, remembering his husband had given him a quest. He spotted Nurse Elena at her station, her gaze anchored to her charts. He paused, collecting his thoughts before approaching.
“Elena, is pizza a post-surgery no-go?” Henry asked, hopeful yet bracing for the answer.
Elena’s lips twitched into a sympathetic smile, her eyes reflecting understanding. "Oh, I'm afraid pizza is off the table for now," she replied, the apologetic tone in her voice genuine. "The best we can offer at this stage is broth. It's not as exciting as pizza, I know, but we need to make sure his stomach can handle more substantial food first. I'm really sorry—pizza will have to wait until he's home."
Henry nodded, a resigned grin flickering on his face.
“Home-cooked it will be, then. Thanks, Elena,” he said, giving her a quick smile before turning away. Back in the room, Henry leant against the doorframe, watching Alex for a moment.
"No luck on the pizza front?" Alex’s words were wrapped in a haze, the medication blurring the edges.
“Broth instead,” Henry announced, “It's all the rage according to the culinary experts.”
Alex considered this with a suggestive smirk, his inhibitions clearly dulled. “Well, if I can't have pizza, maybe I can have something else?” His voice dropped to a suggestive murmur, “How about we... you know, on the hospital bed?”
Before Henry could even process the absurd suggestion, Nurse Elena materialised in the doorway, a tray of steaming corn and chicken broth in hand. She had caught the end of Alex's proposition, and despite her professionalism, a suppressed smile played on her lips.
Henry's face flushed a profound shade of scarlet, his mind reeling with horror that they had been overheard. "Alex!" he hissed, a mix of admonishment and embarrassment lacing his tone.
Elena cleared her throat, her lips twitching. “I’m afraid the only thing on the menu tonight is broth,” she told them, with a teasing glint in her eye, placing the tray on the bedside table. “Any...other activities will have to wait until discharge.”
Alex’s eyebrows shot up, a theatrically mournful pout replacing his grin as Elena delivered her verdict. "No pizza, and now this? You're breaking my heart!" he moaned, his voice oozing disappointment, apparently losing the little social grace he normally had under the influence of whatever was currently pumping through his veins.
Henry, on the other hand, felt a mortified heat creeping up his neck, wishing he could sink through the floor. His eyes darted between Elena and Alex, silently pleading for the ground to swallow him whole. "I'll survive, somehow," Alex continued, clearly not bothered in the slightest by the boundaries of hospital protocol—or the presence of an audience for his unfiltered thoughts.
Nurse Elena simply winked, accustomed to the effects of medication on inhibitions. "Stay strong," she teased, before making a swift exit.
As Elena left the room, giving Henry a pointed look as she did so—the star-struck wonder she had originally displayed when first talking to Henry had already faded—Alex squinted at the steaming bowl of broth, clumsily grasping the spoon with an unsteady hand.
His attempt at aiming for his mouth was more miss than hit, a clear battle with coordination.
Henry, recovering from his earlier embarrassment, moved closer. “Here, let me help,” he said softly, taking the spoon from Alex’s grip. Guiding the spoon with a steady hand, he brought it to Alex's lips.
“Being high on hospital meds does have its perks," Alex slurred with a lazy smile, opening his mouth for another spoonful, "personal feeding service included.”
As he watched Alex slurp the broth with a contented grin, Henry's heart swelled with an affection that felt as nourishing as the food he was spooning into Alex's mouth. He was going to love this goofball for the rest of his life.