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Alex
It was a very big night, and for once, not because I was giving a speech or because Henry was cutting a ribbon of some sort. No, it was a very big night because it was my darling prince’s birthday, and his amazing, charming, and - of course - humble boyfriend (me) had planned him the party of a century. With permission from mom, it would be held in one of the White House ballrooms. There was going to be a DJ and a dance floor, and all of Henry’s family was flying out to be there. I even got his favorite Chantilly cake, with a promise I wouldn’t get too drunk and knock it over again. Yep, everything was going to be perfect… except for one thing: I felt like shit. Okay, okay, not total shit. Not yet anyway. So far, the shit was limited to a scratchy soreness in my throat that I couldn’t wash away even with a gallon of Henry’s favorite tea, and a general sense of fatigue. But it was just one night. Besides, it was my boyfriend’s birthday. I wasn’t going to let him down. And that being said, I wasn’t going to let him know, either. Henry was a worrier like that. If he’d known I was feeling ill, he’d have called off the whole party just to spend the night fussing over me. Not gonna happen.
In my bedroom, I stood in front of the mirror, straightening my tie with a sniffle. I stared at my reflection as I swallowed thickly, watching for any holes in my performance that might give me away tonight. But I didn’t have much time to rehearse, as Henry knocked on my door. He slid through the doorway, looking dashing in a grey suit.
“Hello, handsome,” he said softly. He strode across the room towards me and I knew what he was going to try to do, and that I could not allow it. I swerved his lips, carefully placing several slow kisses along his neck until I reached his collar bone.
“Is it too early to escape the party for some alone time?” I asked flirtatiously, my hands finding his with ease. Silently, I prayed my seductive words had succeeded in throwing him off of anything amiss.
Henry looked bemused, but replied, “a bit early, my love, but surely later…” His eyes swept over me and I worried he might try to kiss me again. He began to lean in, but I quickly intervened.
“Ah, look at the time. The party will be starting now. Can’t be late to your own birthday! Come on then,” I said. Henry looked confused for a moment and I feared he might question me, but instead, he smiled, and allowed me to lead him from the room and down the stairs. Good God, this was going to be harder than I thought…
Henry
The morning after the party, I took David for a walk around the gardens. It was nearing 11, but I’d slept in, having had my fair share of tequila shots the night before. The party was outstanding. Alex had really outdone himself with the food and entertainment. I was even coming around to his taste in music - maybe Bad Bunny was pretty great, after all. But the best part, of course, was Alex himself. God, he was fit, effortlessly commanding the dance floor and throwing back shots like cups of water. Throughout the night I found myself wanting to sneak away with him, like we had so many times when our relationship was a secret. I wanted to make love to him, make him moan and writhe with pleasure beneath me, only to return to the party like we’d never been gone. And it wasn’t just my dick talking. Alex had suggested it himself before the party. But once the party began, he was almost inaccessible, too busy entertaining to steal a moment alone with me. We didn’t so much as kiss the entire night. And then, once the party was over and everyone had gone, Alex crashed face first onto his mattress, and immediately fell asleep. He hadn’t even changed out of that gorgeous maroon suit. In fact, he was in the same position - face down on the bed, fully clothed but with one shoe missing - when I’d slid out of bed this morning, trying my best not to wake him. After my walk, I arrived back in the drawing room to find Bea sitting cross-legged on the sofa, sipping a mug of tea alone.
“Morning,” she greeted. “Oh, where’s Alex? I thought he’d be with you.”
“No,” I answered, furrowing my brow. “You mean to say he’s still in bed?”
“Well, I don’t know, do I? But I haven’t seen him all morning.” I glanced at the wall clock. It was well past 11 now. Alex was a known partier, and certainly not a morning person, but even then, this seemed late for him to be sleeping. Perhaps he’d had more to drink last night than I’d thought.
“I’m going to check on him,” I said, then departed for the stairs. Alex’s room was the last down a long hallway. When I reached it and opened the door, it wasn’t long before the sounds of retching reached my ears, echoing from the en-suite bathroom. A nasty hangover, I thought. Foolish me - I never expected what would come of the rest of the day.
Alex
“Alex, love, are you alright?” came a voice muffled behind the door. It was Henry. Oh God. The last thing I wanted was for him to find me this way. I was kneeling on the bathroom floor, heaving into the toilet bowl. I had woken up just a moment before to find myself alone in bed, and had only a few seconds before an awful, churning sensation in my stomach sent me running to the bathroom. I barely made it to the bowl before every bit of food and liquid I’d consumed the night before was coming back up. Now, I was stuck on my hands and knees, trembling all over as I flushed the evidence away. I looked down at my chest - I was still in my suit from last night. The white button-up shirt I was wearing was drenched in sweat. How was I going to hide this from Henry? My head swirled with elaborate escape attempts, but another knock on the door pulled me back to reality.
“Alex? It’s me,” Henry called. I swallowed and exhaled heavily before pushing myself to standing. I rinsed my mouth out in the sink and swung the door open to face him.
“Hey, baby,” I said, forcing a smile.
“Oh, love, you look dreadful,” he said, brushing my hair away from my face. “A few too many drinks last night, ah? All that entertaining, no wonder you were knackered.” I blinked up at him, amazed. He thought I was hungover. That was the perfect excuse. A hangover was nothing to worry about, and meant I could get away with acting a bit off all day without raising suspicions.
“Yeah…” I croaked. Damn, I was hoarse. Maybe I could blame that on the alcohol, too. Henry’s eyes were fond.
“Let’s get you back in bed. I’ll bring you some Gatorade.”
“That’s okay, Hen, you don’t need to worry about me. I’ll just change and we can head downstairs for a bite to eat. Did you have fun last night?” I asked, hoping to change the subject.
“Of course. You were brilliant, darling. I had a wonderful evening,” Henry enthused as I changed out of my suit with a great deal of difficulty. I held the sweaty shirt at arms length, surveying it.
“Actually, I think I’m gonna hop in the shower. Don’t wait up, I’ll meet you downstairs in a bit,” I said. Henry merely shrugged and sat down on the bed, clearly intending to wait for me. I slipped into the bathroom then, closing the door behind me. Once alone, the chills racked my body again, and I braced myself against the door to keep standing. My throat stung with a new intensity and sweat seemed to pour from my brow. No, no, no no. I could not be sick, I refused to accept it. I turned on the shower to scalding temperatures and stepped inside, trying in vein to warm my shivering body. It wasn’t long before I was forced to make a run for the toilet again as a new wave of nausea hit. Christ. The bathroom door flung open and Henry was there again, standing over me as I crouched on the floor wrapped in my towel and trembling from head to foot.
“That’s it baby, get it all out,” Henry soothed, kneeling down to rub my back. My nose and eyes were streaming and I hastily wiped them with my towel. I flushed the toilet again and Henry made to help me to my feet, but I brushed him off. He peered at me as I righted myself, and I feigned another smile.
“I am never drinking champagne again!” I laughed in explanation.
After shuffling to my bedroom, I sat on my bed, shivering faintly as Henry rifled through my drawers, picking out clothes for me to wear.
“Do you feel better now you’ve gotten it all out? I usually do,” Henry chatted. The honest answer was “no,” seeing as this was no hangover, but I assured him I did.
“Good. Here,” he said, tossing me shorts and a T-shirt. “Now let’s get on with our day, shall we? You’ve slept half of it away already.” I smiled at this comment - a real smile I didn’t have to force.
“Anything you want,” I replied. I changed, then the two of us made our way down the stairs.
Henry
I’m not sure when exactly I started to catch on to Alex’s ruse. Maybe it was the ruddy color in his cheeks, or the way his curls were sticking to his forehead. Or maybe it was the hoarseness in his voice that just couldn’t be explained by overindulgence. Whatever it was, it all began to fall apart when we reached the kitchen for lunch. The White House chef had made Al’s favorite - homemade mushroom risotto with Parmesan - and although he pushed it around with his fork, Alex did not eat a single bite.
“Are you sure you’re feeling better, love? You haven’t touched your food,” I noted.
“Yeah for sure! Just… not hungry,” he replied without meeting my eyes.
“Alex, look at me.” He slowly raised his eyes from the floor to meet mine. He couldn’t hide anything behind those.
“Baby, you’re white as a sheet! And your nose is running down your face,” I observed. Alex hastily wiped it with his napkin.
“I’m fine, Henry, really. I just overdid it last night. All I need is some water and rest and I’ll be good as new in no time,” he insisted. I surveyed him closely, unconvinced. Then, raised my hand to place on his sweaty forehead. Alex swatted me away.
“Seriously! I’m okay,” he said, exasperated. A moment of silence passed in which Alex stifled a cough, and I watched. Then, it dawned on me what to do.
“Fine, then kiss me,” I said. Alex gaped.
“I- I-“ he stammered, looking for a way out. “I just threw up, Hen, that’s disgusting. My breath is probably, like, rancid-“
“I don’t care. Kiss me.” Alex only stared at me. Then all at once, he deflated.
“I can’t…” he mumbled. “I don’t wanna get you sick.”
“Oh, baby,” I said sadly. I inched over and wrapped my arms around him, allowing my face to find the crook of his neck. Once my cheek pressed to his skin, my breath hitched.
“You’ve got a temp,” I said quietly, feeling the heat pour off of him. Alex sighed. When we pulled apart, he looked miserable, as if keeping up this act had sapped the last of his energy.
“I’m gonna head upstairs,” he rasped.
“Let me take you,” I said, standing quickly.
“No, no, I don’t want you to worry about me,” Alex said, brushing me off again.
“You don’t want me there?” I asked, stung.
“It’s not that, baby. Just… at best, you’re a worrier. At worst, you’re a raging mother hen. I don’t want you to fuss.”
“I’m your boyfriend. It’s literally my job,” I argued. Alex offered a weak smile in reply and allowed me to lace an arm around his waist and guide him back to his room.
Alex
Back in my room, I collapsed heavily onto my bed again. Already, I felt sort of sheepish. I’d never been sick since Henry and I started dating. Now, he was standing at my bedside, watching me carefully as if I might break out in pox at any moment. It was almost embarrassing. I couldn’t stand the idea of grossing him out, or worse, making him worry. So, I propped myself up on several pillows, and refused to get under the covers, though I very much wanted to. He’d already watched me puke my guts up once today. I felt that by sitting up, I was preserving at least some of my dignity.
“Don’t you want to lie down?” Henry asked.
“Oh no, no. I’m okay like this,” I insisted. I crossed my arms tightly over my chest, trying not to shiver, but I could not stop my teeth from chattering. Henry cocked an eyebrow.
“You’re ridiculous,” he said, aghast. He tugged the covers from under my body and firmly placed them over me. Once more, he reached out his hand to touch my forehead, only this time, I didn’t have the energy to fight him off.
“Christ, Alex, you’re burning,” he said.
I tried to crack my best Alex Claremont-Diaz smile as I replied, “are you flirting with me, your majesty?”
“It’s ‘your royal-‘ Alex!” Henry said, exasperated, but he was smiling. He sank down to his knees at my bedside, and took one of my hands in his. Gazing imploringly into my eyes he said, “Alex, my gorgeous, stubborn, idiot boyfriend, will you please get some rest? For my sake.” I felt my eyes float up to the ceiling, but I couldn’t help smiling too.
“Only-“ I coughed “because you called me gorgeous.” Henry looked pleased, running small circles over the back of my hand with his thumb.
“Good,” he replied, “now what can I get for you? Tea? Water? Paracetamol?”
“It’s not called ‘paracetamol’ here. And nothing, thanks. Just hit the lights for me when you leave.” Henry pursed his lips. Apparently, the idea of leaving me alone had not crossed his mind. “Go, enjoy your day. I’m just gonna take a nap. I’ll be fine,” I assured him. He looked troubled but agreed, then placed a kiss on my brow before departing, closing the door behind him.
Henry
Once outside of Alex’s bedroom, I paced the hallway. Apparently, Alex being sick gave me borderline separation anxiety. Poor dear. He truly looked awful, but insisted on putting on this front for me. I couldn’t understand why. I mean, I’m his boyfriend. There is no part of him I can’t handle. Then again, the stubbornness, the flirting even with a fever, it was all so… so Alex, I could hardly be surprised. After 20 minutes passed of me standing in the corridor, I decided there was nothing I could do but let him rest, and be there when he awoke. I busied myself preparing him a tray of soup and crackers - or rather, the White House chef prepared the soup and crackers while I followed him around like an anxious shadow. Then, I gathered some supplies from the medicine cabinet: Tylenol, throat lozenges, and an ice pack for Alex’s head. My hand hovered over the thermometer before placing it in my pocket, just in case. I doubted there was any way Alex was going to allow me to put this in his mouth, but it was worth a try. Even if he didn’t, the sweat on his brow told me all I needed to know. Content with myself, I gathered everything and marched back up to Alex’s room, deciding enough time had passed for me to check on him. When I reached the door, I pressed my ear to it, hoping for the sounds of sleep. Instead, I heard short, gasping breaths and muffled sobs. I felt my heart clench and I threw the door open.
Sitting up in bed in the dark room was Alex. He’d thrown up all over his comforter, the last watery bits of vomit dripping from his chin. His cheeks were tear-stained and flushed as he took shaky breaths through his mouth. I dropped the tray onto his dresser with a clatter.
“Oh baby,” I cried, disheartened. Alex’s eyes met mine in the darkness. It was like he hadn’t noticed me come in until I spoke.
He choked back a sob as he whimpered, “Henry?”
“It’s okay, baby, I’m here, I’m here.” I rushed to the bed, quickly pushing the soiled bedclothes out of the way and enveloping Alex into a hug. He wept onto my shoulder as I held him tightly.
“What is it, my love? Just feel really poorly?”
Alex righted himself enough to nod, then furiously rubbed his eyes.
“I don’t want you-“ he choked, “to see me like this.”
“Why? Because you think I will love you any less? Well I won’t,” I said firmly. I gathered him in my arms again. We stayed like that a long while, until Alex’s breathing evened out enough for him to speak. Suddenly, his sobs turned into soft laughter.
“Oh God,” he said, teary-eyed but half-smiling. “Now I know the definition of ‘mortified.’”
“Not true,” I said, brushing the tears from his face.
“I’m sorry, Henry, I’m just such a mess when I’m sick like this. I was scared for you to see it but, there’s no hiding it now.”
“Afraid not,” I replied, returning his smile. “But now you know I’m not going anywhere, no matter how much of a disaster you are.” My hand found its way to Alex’s head and I pressed it there. He was warmer than ever.
“You’re not gonna like this love, but you just keep getting hotter. We’ve got to get some medicine in you. D’you think you can keep it down?”
The smile vanished from Alex’s face. He didn’t even have the resolve left to make a “hotter” joke. His lower lip trembled as he nodded. Quickly, I snatched the medicine and a glass of water from where I left it on the dresser. Alex swallowed it obediently. I even coaxed a few small sips of soup into him, too.
“You’re brilliant,” I said, rewarding him with a kiss on the cheek.
“Don’t do that,” Alex chuckled weakly, “I’m all gross.” I kissed him again for good measure.
“Now, let’s get you cleaned up, shall we?”
Alex
I watched from my bed as Henry collected my puke-splattered comforter and disappeared down the hallway.
“I’ll only be gone a second,” he said, as he swept from the room. Normally I would’ve insisted on doing it myself, but this time I didn’t even have the strength to protest. I just laid there, body aching, head pounding, waiting for my boyfriend to come back. And sure enough, he did. Crossing the room to meet me, he placed his hands on the hem of my T-shirt and gently pulled it over my head.
“Are you undressing me, your highness?” I said seductively. Henry paused, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath.
“You have vomit on your shirt, Alex,” he said flatly, but I saw him readjust the crotch of his pants. I grinned mischievously. Nothing made me feel better than when I was turning him on. I slid to the edge of the bed and wrapped my arms around Henry’s waist, caressing his body with my eyes. Henry blushed scarlet.
“You’re-“
“Ridiculous?” I interrupted. “You know, I don’t think I am sick. I just have the hots for you. Lovesick, maybe…” I mused, gazing up at him.
Henry was blinking rapidly; the dissonance between what he wanted to do to me and what he could reasonably do to me in this state was etched all over his face.
“Alex we- we’ve got to get you cleaned up,” he said, finding his resolve. He extricated himself from my grasp and said “I’m going to run you a bath.”
“Oh good, and you’ll join?” I teased. Henry let out a laugh.
“Christ,” he said incredulously. “One minute you’re crying, the next-“
“I’m giving you a hard-on? Blame it on the fever, I guess.” Henry rolled his eyes.
“How you manage to remain so Alex with a fever like yours is beyond me,” he huffed. Finally, Henry marched into my bathroom with determination. I could hear the sound of the faucet running. When he returned, he was wrapped in my bathrobe.
“But the answer is yes,” he said, “I’ll join.” My face split into a wide grin and I allowed Henry to help me to my feet and out of my remaining clothes. Once exposed like this, the fever took hold and I began to shiver violently once more. Henry let the robe fall to the floor and lowered himself carefully into the bath.
“That’s it, love,” he murmured, as I followed slowly. Once settled in the warm water, I leaned back against Henry’s chest, allowing my eyes to fall shut. I rested that way as Henry massaged shampoo into my hair and ran his fingers gently across my skin.
“We should’ve done this hours ago. I feel better already,” I hummed.
“That’s the Tylenol talking,” Henry scoffed, but I could feel him smiling. It was so lovely - the first relief I’d felt all day. We might’ve stayed there for hours, if Henry hadn’t insisted on getting me back into bed. I waited in the bathroom while Henry put fresh linens and a new comforter on my bed. When he was finished, he came in with a new T-shirt and a pair of his own sweatpants for me to wear.
I settled back into bed with a sigh, my damp curls flopping onto my face. Henry brushed them back and placed a kiss on my head, as gently as if I was made of porcelain.
“No fever,” he said softly as he kissed me again. “But it’s early days. Is there any chance I can talk you into getting some rest?”
“Yes,” I conceded, “but only if you lay with me.” Henry beamed.
Delighted, he answered, “I thought you would never ask.”