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Chapter Text

***

The leash caught on its hook no less than 3 times before Alex finally dislodged it. He clenched his fingers around it, willing himself not to let the frustration build. He was running late but David had to be walked before he went to class. 

At the familiar clinking of the leash and harness, David was already excitedly running around his feet, barking and wiggling so much that it was difficult to get the harness on. Alex secured him in and they were off.

David was doing his best to slow down the walk by sniffing every air particle possible, but Alex really needed him to just poop already so he could get going. Hoping to encourage him along, Alex spoke to him as usual, ignoring any possible judgmental looks he might receive from Cash or passersby. 

“Come on, David, be a good boy for me!”

“I know you listen to your other dad better because he’s not the fun dad like I am, but I really need you to think about using your time wisely here.”

“I really thought you would have pooped by now.”

Alex’s and Cash’s eyes were locked on this beagle absolutely milking his time outside when they were both startled by a sudden, “EXCUSE ME!”

Alex turned instinctively (people-pleasing instincts far outweighing the survival instincts Cash is always droning on about as usual) and found himself facing a person maybe a couple years younger than himself, clearly finishing up a morning jog.

Before he could ask if he could help her, she immediately came right up to them and began speaking a bit more excitedly than he was able to process, causing her words to come out a bit more like “hiohmygodyourealexclaremontdiazhiitssonicetomeetyoumynamesemilyandohmygodthismustbedavid!!!”

But Alex got the gist enough to smile, shake her hand, and let her give David a few pats. She eventually went on her way, and Alex turned around to head back home. 

“Alright David, you have from now until we get back to the house to poop, otherwise you’re going to have to wait until your walk when Henry gets home. We might need to look into doggy daycares for you for days like today.”

Alex managed to make it to class with half a minute to spare, coffee in hand. 

***

For someone familiar enough with the tedium of typical fundraisers that he has an entire spreadsheet devoted to excuses for getting out of boring conversations with rich assholes, Alex was having a great time at this one.

Pez had really gone all out for this event, hiring several bounce castles, food trucks, a DJ, and one of those dunk tanks that Alex could not wait to pester Henry into. Naturally, it was just the afternoon party for the community itself, and the real money-earning, boring part would be that evening at a black tie gala, but still, it was nice to have some part of it that was enjoyable.

Henry, of course, in taking over running the New York branch of the Okonjo Foundation LGBTQIA+ shelters, was dividing his time between meet-and-greets with guests and monitoring the minute-by-minute updates to the fundraising planning and progress via an app Pez created. He deserved to actually relax, enjoy his time, and feel confident that his incredibly hard work would pay off. 

Alex eyed the food trucks, sure that there might be something he could bring Henry that might actually make him pause and enjoy. He was absolutely certain that all of Henry’s hard work would pay off–every ounce of his genuine care and passion for this community showed through every brick of the shelter. Now it was Alex’s job to help him remember to savor that pride in his work and have some fun. 

***

Listen, nobody expects law school to be easy or fun. Alex knows he’s not Elle Woods, and he entered into this program with absolutely zero expectation of a work-life balance. But GOOD GOD he expected the criminal law class to be at least somewhat interesting sometimes! 

It’s not until the professor is talking about concepts of diplomatic immunity and international relations that something interesting happens in class. 

For someone who had been great so far about treating Alex like any other student, he abruptly turns directly towards him and asks, “Alex, I hate to put you on the spot, but do you happen to know if this source is correct in saying that speed limits and various other criminal and civil laws do not apply to the Queen of England?”

All eyes are on him. “Uhh, yeah I think that’s true. I mean when a member of the Royal Family is traveling by car for official events and stuff they usually are being driven and have police escorts so really there’s a whole deviation from typical road laws but the drivers stay within the laws when possible. Unless something makes them have to do something different, and in those cases I think they’re exempt, yeah.”

His professor nods and moves to continue on with the lecture, but is suddenly interrupted by a student that sounds to be several rows behind him saying, “Wait. Why are we listening to some law student’s opinion on this? How do I know that he knows the actual law–we’re not even in England!”

Holy shit, this guy doesn’t know who Alex is. That’s…wild. He feels a little egotistical for a moment, expecting that just everyone and their dog would obviously know who he is and why he’s familiar with being driven by Royal drivers, but come on. Even if this guy had somehow totally missed the international breaking news of his relationship with Henry, surely he’s got to know who his own president is? And have some degree of familiarity with the First Family? Or even heard other NYU students talking about him being here? None of that? For real? Unfathomable. 

How does Alex even address this? 

What’s he going to say, “You should know who I am?” 

“You should know who my parents are?” Who is he, Draco Malfoy? Some asshole nepo-baby? 

And sure, there’s room for people to view him as getting into politics and law because of his parents, and perhaps even people think he only got into NYU Law that way. It frustrates him to his core, but he keeps silent on that (with the exception of his sister, Henry, and his therapist) because he does recognize that there is some level of privilege here that influenced his ability to afford tuition, and time to study, a place to live while here, etc. But seriously, how does he explain to this guy why he was asked about Royal Family privileges without coming across as a total douche?

Fortunately, his professor steps in before he has to. 

“Absolutely, you know that one of the biggest focal points of the practice of law is thorough research, checking your sources, and verifying your evidence. You know that I recommend primary sources as a main point of information-gathering, and in this case I chose to use Alex’s experience as primary source material. Great question. Anyway–”

“How the hell can a random law student be a primary source on the British monarchy?”

Alex is sighing and starting to turn around in his seat to say something, anything, when he notices the other student sitting next to The Complainer, showing him something on her phone that makes him go quiet. Alex gives him a tight-lipped smile and turns to his professor to do the same. Hopefully with this awkwardness aside they can get back to the lecture. Maybe he’s glad they can be a little boring. 

Chapter Text

***

Even though Alex has only been a dog dad for a few months now, the change to his life and routine cemented itself so wholly that even the briefest of David’s absences leaves him feeling bereft. He stopped by the brownstone quickly to grab a book he forgot, and not having David greet him at the door is jarring. He’s only at doggy daycare for the day–Alex saw him this morning and will see him again tonight, but still. The silent house just feels so wrong . 

Waiting in line for his coffee, Alex burns through several pictures and videos he has saved of David on his phone, but they pale in comparison to seeing the real thing. He’s tried checking the constantly-streaming webcam footage of the dogs at the daycare, but their internet seems to be down at the moment. Frustrated, Alex opens Twitter for a distraction. 

Soon, he gets the idea to use the search function to pull up pictures of beagles. He stumbles upon a beagle meme page that seems to post several photo dumps of cute beagles. He quickly scrolls through their content, already feeling more cheerful. At one particular photo dump post, he finds a picture of a beagle that he could swear is just David’s identical twin. 

He definitely needs to follow that page. 

He definitely does not pester Henry for more photos after Henry posts the most adorable photo of the two of them cuddling together. 

***

Brooklyn is chilly today. The sun’s out, the sky’s blue, but there’s a strong breeze and it’s clear that winter is coming. It’s the perfect kind of weather that invites the coziness of hot beverages, large blankets, and a perfect evening spent wrapped up with his 6 foot tall boyfriend. Alex can’t wait. 

In the meantime, he enjoys the fall air, opting for pumpkin spice in his coffee this morning because #TreatYoSelf. It’s going to be a full day of studying at the library, so he’s come to campus prepared with layers for the chill, earbuds for reducing distractions, and a reserved quiet room. 

Once he gets there, he arranges his study materials conveniently at his desk and starts up his laptop. A leisurely pre-study-time Twitter scroll alerts him to some fashion blog judging his clothing, as usual. For fuck’s sake.

***

It’s all Nora’s fault. SHE came over to THEIR house. It’s HIS remote. If she wants to come here and eat his food and take up his couch space, she can deal with him choosing what they watch.

This is a familiar scene, to be honest. They’ve always roughhoused over things like this, and today’s Heartstopper versus The Witcher debate escalated as usual. 

Alex’s ability to get away from her was slightly hindered by the fact that he’s currently laying back against Henry’s chest. He resolutely refuses to move. He refuses to yield remote power. He will stuff the remote down his pants and render Nora completely incapable of getting it. Ha. 

…until she pulls out her phone and starts typing.

“Nora, just what the fuck do you think you’re doing over there?”

“Exacting my revenge.”

Frantically, he pulls up Twitter and sees her post: “Alex is the little spoon pass it on.”

“Oh, okay, so this is how you want to play this? For real?”

June sends Henry an exasperated look. He can’t see Henry’s face from this position, but he assumes, of course, that Henry’s silent response involved some sort of facial expression that very clearly laid out his steadfast devotion to and defense of Alex’s side. 

He puts on Heartstopper, hides the remote again, and starts typing a response to Nora via Twitter: “i will kill you dead.”

***

Chapter Text

***

Therapy has taught Alex a few interesting things. He started going around the time of his mom’s second inauguration, so he’s only been there for a handful of weeks so far, but it’s been so nice. He’s working on reprocessing the trauma of last year’s forced outing, coping with the anxiety that naturally comes from everyone in the country knowing your name, and then there are things that come up that he didn’t necessarily realize were connected. For instance, he might have known already that his fear of abandonment could be traced back to his parents’ divorce, but he wasn’t aware of “attachment styles.” He didn’t technically know that he met criteria for an ADHD diagnosis, but, looking back, he wasn’t really surprised. He might have been vaguely aware that he had people-pleasing tendencies, but he certainly did not realize that this was something that could actually be worked on and overcome. It’s a process, though, for sure.

It’s interesting, upon further reflection, to notice that he and Henry both definitely qualify as people-pleasers (made all the more difficult by their respective positions as sons of major world leaders), but that their presentations of this tendency are quite different. When Henry feels rejected, not good enough, or afraid of others’ judgment, he tends to hide away, shut down, and self-isolate. For Alex, however, he’s activated. If Alex thinks he’s pissed someone off, annoyed someone, or made them uncomfortable, then he’s chasing them down with a desperate need to fix it. 

In any case, after all of these reflections, his therapist, Megan, has started assigning him “mini-exposures.” Even though they don’t really feel “mini.” An expression of excitement about his still somewhat recently-acquired friend group led to a discussion in session about his previous experiences with friends, or overall lack thereof. Social situations are hard, okay? And now that he’s acknowledged that he wishes he had pushed himself to experience more of the student life at Georgetown, he’s been given homework to meet some new people at NYU. He wants to, really. It’s just maybe going to take him some time. It’s not as if people frequently come up to him to befriend him, outside of asking for a selfie or autograph. And, oh god, what if he were to approach someone who turned out to be a Richards supporter? It’s just too much. 

Alex spends most of his time on campus just in classrooms or the library instead of in the more social areas. Right now, he’s seated in the classroom used for Contracts about 15 minutes early, summarizing some notes from a case study, when he hears someone walk up to him. 

“Hi, is it cool if I sit here?” A voice asks.

He looks up and finds a woman about his age with a friendly face and a stack of books. He nods, then pushes himself to say actual words. “Oh yeah, sure, go ahead.”

She sits down, but remains turned towards him. After setting her things down, she holds out a hand and says, “I’m April. I don’t think we’ve met before.”

He takes her hand and drops it again. “Alex. Yeah, I kind of missed the meet-and-greets at the start of the term. Nice to meet you, though.”

Score, Alex, you’re doing so good. This is the easy part, he’s absolutely nailed the handshake-small-talk. He uses it constantly with political figures and dignitaries. It’s the after that that’s tricky. How to move small talk into a real conversation? How to take it out of the classroom? 

Thank the stars for April, though, who seems interested in friendship whether Alex has the right words or not. She asks him if he’s in a study group (no) and if he’d be interested in joining one (absolutely). She invites him to study at her usual little corner of a nearby Dunkin’ Donuts later that day, where she was going to be studying with another person from their cohort, Aaron. Soon class begins and their conversation subsides, but internally he’s so proud of himself. Look ma, I made a friend! Megan’s going to be so proud. 

***

It’s many of their daily coffee shop study sessions later when they are unable to claim their usual spot. The campus library is currently closed for repairs after a bout of heavy rain, and all of the students appear to have decided to hole up in this Dunkin’ instead. The table they usually take up is full, and so is every other one. 

April looks defeated. “Damn, I don’t really have a Plan B here. Do you think there’s an unlocked classroom we could invade for a while?”

Aaron shrugs. He’s not much of a talker. 

An idea does appear to Alex, though he’s a bit nervous about it. 

Fuck it, we ball. 

“We could go to my place?”

Both Aaron and April turn to him with slightly stunned expressions. He can’t blame them. He knows the enormity of what he just suggested.

“I mean, sure,” April says tentatively. “If that’s cool with you. I wouldn’t want to intrude.” 

“And that’s why you got the invite,” Alex reassures her. “Just a few things–there is a dog who will jump on you, Henry will likely be coming home soon, and you’ll each have to sign two different NDAs. If you’re still cool with it after all that.”

It occurs to Alex that this is the first time that they’ve all acknowledged who Alex is outside of their group. From time to time he’s wondered whether they knew, given that they’ve never said anything about his president mom or his prince boyfriend, and after a while it didn’t seem to matter. They just treat him like any other student. Like a friend. 

A friend who has a middle-aged man follow him around everywhere. 

Okay, maybe it’s obvious they knew.

In any case, hanging out on campus near the classes that they all take together is a bit different than taking them into his home. His home that has never had pictures of the interior shared publicly. His home that contains personal belongings, photos, and details of his life that are more private than anything he’s shared with them before. His home, where his Royal boyfriend will also be. 

Alex is honestly fine with it; he’s grown to trust April and Aaron, and he wouldn’t have offered if he wasn’t sure. He knows Henry will probably be excited to meet his school friends, provided they sign the NDAs first. 

To their credit, April and Aaron don’t seem put off by the idea of the paperwork, so he shrugs his shoulders and tries to appear nonchalant about it to make them feel more comfortable. 

They agree, and get into a car with Cash. He pulls out two copies of his own NDA and two copies of Henry’s, then shoots off a “heads-up” text to Henry about the company that will be over when he gets home. They each briefly read through them on the way over (law students, of course) and sign as they pull up to the brownstone. 

As is Official Custom in their home, the Royal Greeting must take place first. 

This means, of course, that David meets them at the door and begins jumping and barking. They each dote on him and meet his approval. April a little too effectively, considering David won’t leave her side, even when they settle onto couches and spread their books out on the coffee table. 

As per the NDA, neither of Alex’s guests makes a move to take a picture of David, even though Alex knows it must be hard. He takes a photo himself of David in April’s lap, licking her face. 

***

They toil away about two and a half hours reviewing case studies, and they’re on a Twitter break (or Instagram for Aaron, who refuses to get Twitter) when the front door opens. David goes running out of the living room and disappears down the hall, where they can faintly hear Henry greeting him. Louder, they hear him call, “Alex?”

“In here!” Alex calls back. Not the most specific, but Henry finds them. 

He walks into the room and Alex tries to view him from the perspective of his friends seeing him in person for the first time. He’s gorgeous, as usual, walking in completely put together even after a day of working at the shelter. He looks every bit the picture-perfect Prince Charming. Alex grins at him. 

“Hey baby, this is April and Aaron. I’ve told you about them.” 

He turns back to the aforementioned friends, enjoying watching them try to school their faces into something normal. 

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, I’ve heard wonderful things,” Henry says cheerfully. 

They all make pleasant small talk about how the studying is going, how Henry’s day at work was, when the last time David went outside was, and Henry offers to bring everyone fresh drinks. It’s all adorably domestic and Alex feels incredibly warm and fuzzy inside. 

Once Henry sets down a plate of cookies on the coffee table, Alex shows him the photo he took of April and David. They always check with each other before posting about their relationship, especially when it comes to photos. Henry nods his approval and Alex pulls up the Tweet that April posted earlier about David. 

Just before Henry arrived, April had posted, “Ok so the library might be closed after a leak, but my new study location has a PUPPY so who really won here #lawschool.”

Alex had liked the Tweet at the time, laughing at her friend Evan’s response, “You dare tease about a puppy and then show no pictures?!”

Now, Alex retweeted her with the picture, tagging this Evan friend he’s heard of a couple of times and David’s account. He can’t help but laugh at this friend’s reaction to his presence, and likes his next Tweet asking to come meet him. April’s done so much for him; he’d be down to meet her other friends. 

***

Chapter Text

***

Alex was very much looking forward to Pez coming to stay with them for a few weeks. That dude was chill and really fun to hang out with. In comparison, Alex felt that he really won in the best-friend-in-law department: he got witty, hilarious, adventurous Pez and Henry had to make do with annoying Nora who steals remotes.

Plus, Alex harbored some level of self-imposed guilt for Henry living in the US so far away from everything he’d ever known (misplaced and unnecessary guilt, yes he knows that logically, thank you Megan). He did know that Henry was thrilled to be living abroad, away from the monarchy, away from the reminders of what his family could have been, doing his dream work with the queer/trans youth shelters, and making progress towards his first manuscript. 

However, he still wanted to make sure that being with him didn’t take away from any of Henry’s  familiar comforts. He’s just so incandescently happy that he gets to have Henry here with him in the US; he doesn’t want him to feel like he’s missing out on anything, if possible. He’s shipped over large boxes of Jaffa Cakes and Cornettos. He’s made sure they can stream all BBC channels. He learned how to use an electric kettle and make an actual cup of tea, thank you very much. But Alex was nothing if not ambitious and eager-to-please, so he also was very excited at the idea of Henry’s best friend coming to spend time with them for a while, and he’d already begun making lists of all the touristy things he and Henry could do with Pez. 

Number 1 on the list: watching Hamilton on Broadway. He’d reason to them that it was the perfect mix of both worlds but in reality you can’t take the rebel out of the American. This fact became quite clear on the ride home, when he was a little tipsy and a lot excited and began educating Henry and Pez.

“It’s totally true that New York was once the capital, isn’t that crazy?”

“Did you know that Philip Schuyler actually had 15 children, and 8 of them made it to adulthood?”

“There’s absolutely no evidence that Hamilton and Angelica had any kind of romantic entanglement. Now, he and Laurens on the other hand…”

He kept going, despite Henry and Pez looking at each other and giggling throughout his explanations. It took a while to learn this and become confident in it, but he knew by now that Henry never got bored or annoyed with his rambles. He loved to hear him when he got “passionate,” as Henry described it. 

So he kept going, even when Pez pulled out his phone and, Alex later discovered, tweeted about the experience, describing his visit as enjoyable, his night out with them on Broadway lovely, and Alex’s “frenetic” lectures as “perhaps less than ideal.” Alex cackled and typed out a snarky response.

When he found out, later in Pez’s stay with them, that he was also looking for homes in the area, he and Henry were equally thrilled. But nothing came close to the high he got and the amount of fanfare he subjected Henry and Pez to when Reese Witherspoon herself responded to his tweet about Elle Woods.

***

This year for Thanksgiving was a bit unlike previous years, given that Alex and June were no longer living in the White House. No turkeys in his room either, thank the gobbling overlords. Alex put his own money towards a cheap-ass hotel room for the turkey accommodations, to prevent the taxpayer waste without suffering under threat of Turkassic Park. 

He and Henry were driving the 230 miles from Brooklyn to DC and staying in the White House for a few days, back in his old room. Alex couldn’t wait to relive some of the early days of their relationship there, particularly that first night together after the state dinner. Thinking about that had him shifting in the driver’s seat, catching Henry’s eyes as he did so. 

It wasn’t until their halfway-point gas station stop when Alex learned of the treachery committed by His Royal Bitchiness. Alex’s mom had posted a nice little official presidential tweet about having the whole family visiting for Thanksgiving. It had warmed Alex’s heart to see that she’d tagged Henry and Nora as family members. And then?! Henry was out there mocking him publicly, saying Alex was a “big fan” of the turkey pardoning? The absolute gall. See if Henry got any attention tonight at all.

(He did).

***

Alex has been so proud of Henry lately. Well, he’s always proud, but in particular recently Henry’s been getting so much better at saying no to superfluous requests from The Crown. He doesn’t travel back home for ribbon-cutting ceremonies anymore, for instance. When he’s back in London visiting family, he’ll make some appearances, but overall he’s been exercising notably more of a choice in which appearances achieve a spot on his schedule. 

When Bea tells them on one of their regular Super Six wine nights over discord that she’s opening a new mental health clinic for substance use treatment, they are absolutely thrilled for her. It’s worth the trip on its own to go over and support her work, and Henry confirms immediately that he’ll be there. Alex is already emailing his professors and taking his schoolwork online for that time period. 

As they are driven from the airstrip to KP, planning to shower and change before heading to the grand opening with Bea, Alex can’t help but feel like he’s forgotten something. 

***

Another day, another White House state dinner. Alex was more nervous about this one than most, given that he was giving a speech on international relations and climate policy agreements. Before that, it was a chorus of handshakes, polite exchanges, and carefully cultivated diplomatic platitudes. He already knew someone snapped a photo of him shaking hands with President Macron and there would be new fanfiction about it in the morning. 

While Alex had backed away from the full force of politics, focusing on his new degree instead of a job in the white house staff and a law career instead of (or at least before) Congress, he did still get a rush being in The Room Where It Happens. He still cared deeply about policy change and improving American lives, and he loved opportunities to participate. Still, there was always that underlying anxiety about how it would go, how he would be perceived, how well the message he intended to deliver landed. 

Fortunately, The Crown received an invite as well, and Henry was easily able to argue that he should be the member of the family to attend, given that he was already in the States. Henry stayed a strong presence by his side the entire night, and kept eye contact with him during his speech. 

The next day, he was booking it to the class he thought he’d have to miss. He had been driving back in from the state dinner in DC this morning and had originally not expected to be back in time to make this lecture, which his professor was gracious about via email. But now they’d made it back to the city with a bit of time to spare, and Alex would only be about 10 minutes late if he went ahead to class. 

Despite being proud of himself for managing to prevent FSOTUS events from interfering with class responsibilities this time, the sight that greeted him when he rushed through the classroom door made him regret deciding to show up. It was his own face, large on the projector screen in front of the entire class, giving that speech from last night. 

When all eyes turned to him, he gave an awkward smile and walked as casually as possible towards the back of the classroom. April and Selena teased him about it the rest of the day.

***

Chapter Text

***

Alex slapped off his third alarm of the morning and grumbled, pulling the covers up over his head. A low laugh came from somewhere behind him and a warm hand rubbed his shoulder a couple of times before gently pulling the covers back down. 

Alex groaned again and rolled over onto his stomach, attempting to take the covers with him. A light slap landed on his ass and the bed shifted, Henry’s weight leaving his side.

“Nooo.”

“If you want to have breakfast together before we leave,” Henry called back as he opened the curtains, “you’ll want to get up.”

Alex gave a pitiful whine. “Come back to bed.”

Henry pulled the covers down again enough to kiss Alex’s forehead and said, “I’ll get the coffee started for you,” as he left the room.

Two cups of cinnamon coffee, a single English Breakfast tea, and two breakfast tacos later, they exchanged a coffee-flavored kiss before Alex left for class. They had intentionally timed it so that Alex would be leaving before Henry; they both knew nothing would get done that day if Alex saw Henry’s polo outfit before he made it out of the house. 

Alex was disappointed to be missing Henry’s charity polo match today, especially given what they’ve gotten up to at this event before. Henry reassured him, however, that his classes took priority, and that they could recreate any tack room shenanigans that evening. Henry had promised not to change out of the outfit before Alex saw him that afternoon. 

***

“The court reasoned,” Professor Brooks explained, “That the grandfather ‘intentionally influenced the plaintiff to alter her position, so it would be grossly inequitable to permit the maker, or his executor, to resist payment on the ground that the promise was given without consideration.’”

Down in the front of the class, near the podium, a door opened off to the right. Alex was just finishing typing the last lines of his notes on the central issue of the Ricketts v. Scothorn case when he glanced toward the disturbance. His fingers stilled on the keys when he noticed Shaan walking into the room. It was incredibly unusual for a member of his own security team to interrupt any of his daily activity, but for Shaan, who was supposed to be with Henry at the polo match today, to be walking briskly towards him in the middle of his class, something must be wrong. 

All of his focus was now on Shaan as he walked right up to Alex and bent down towards him to whisper, “Henry’s fine, but he’s had a minor injury.”

He believed Shaan when he said Henry was fine. He did. But it did instill a certain amount of urgency to hear Shaan drop the title from Henry’s name in his rush to give Alex an explanation. Immediately, Alex began throwing his belongings into his backpack, sparing little regard for organization or finesse. 

As he stood to follow Shaan out the door, he heard his Contracts professor pause his lecture to ask, “Is everything alright?” In his rush out the door, Alex didn’t even spare him a glance. How long had Henry been alone? How bad was he hurt? Was he at the hospital? And for the love of god, how bad was he hurt?

As he neared the door, Cash peeked around the corner and called out for him, “Not to worry anyone; there’s no security threat. We do need to leave for other reasons, but,” he met Alex’s eyes and nodded at him briefly when he reached the doorway where Cash was propping it open, “I’m sure Alex will send his apologies when he can.”

As soon as he was through the door, Alex was walking determinedly out of the building. Shaan and Cash caught up with him and strode forward to lead the way to a car parked right outside the entrance to Vanderbuilt Hall. 

Cash held the door open for Alex and then climbed into the driver’s seat, Shaan already dictating directions from the passenger side. They didn’t pull out any flashing lights or police escorts, which was a good sign regarding Cash's perception of whether or not the situation was truly emergent, but Alex still bounced his legs and fidgeted with his backpack straps, eager to get to Henry’s side.

“Tell me what happened.”

Shaan and Cash glanced at each other before Shaan turned back to look at him. 

“I’ll lead with the fact that it looks like nothing more than a wrist injury for now. But I’m sure the medical staff will check him thoroughly and let us know more.”

“That’s good to hear,” Alex sighed. “Did this happen at the match?”

“Yes, it seems that the horse he was on got spooked by something and he took a bit of a tumble.”

“He fell off a horse?! ”

“I’m afraid so.”

“Jesus. How much farther?”

Shaan checked the GPS again. “Only a few moments more.”

Cash pulled to a stop directly in front of the emergency room entrance. Alex and Shaan hurried inside as he parked the vehicle. After a frantic but whispered demand to the front desk attendant for Henry’s location, they were escorted to the private room Henry was in, the door guarded by a PPO. 

They stood aside immediately for Alex, who headed inside. Shaan nodded to him and remained in the hallway. 

“Henry!”

Henry looked up quickly and leaned back where he was sitting on top of the hospital bed, cradling his casted wrist and giving Alex a slow, dopey smile. 

“Aleexxx,” he breathed, lifting his right arm to make a grabby hand at him.

“Oh good god,” Alex laughed, “I guess I don’t have to ask how you’re feeling, huh? What did they give you, baby?”

While Henry made contact with Alex’s arm and held tightly while he tried to nuzzle into him, Alex looked around for a chart or a call button. Before he found one, a doctor walked in and greeted them. 

“Good afternoon Mr. Claremont-Diaz,” she began, “My staff let me know you’d arrived.”

“Hi!”

She glanced down towards Henry at his cheerful greeting. “Hello again, Your Highness.” 

“Hennnn….reeeeeee,” Henry enunciated carefully and slowly.

“Yes, okay, hello again Henry. I’m here to give your boy your care instructions, is that okay?”

“Yes!” he nodded animatedly.

Alex suppressed another laugh and rubbed Henry’s shoulder. “Thank you, Doctor…” he squinted at her name embroidered onto the white coat, “Jackson. What’s the damage?”

“Fortunately it’s only a fractured ulna and a few bruises. His wrist was set and then cast, and it should heal within 6 weeks. We currently have him on hydrocodone and we’ll order a prescription for that for you to take home. He can have one to two 5mg tablets every four to six hours as needed. He’ll have enough for 3 days, and he can switch down to acetaminophen. He should remain at home and comfortable for the next few days so as to not exert any excess force on the wrist. He can return to work 12 hours after his last dose of hydrocodone.”

Petting Henry’s head where he had started to lean onto Alex’s shoulder, he responded, “Okay, that’s great to hear. Thank you so much.”

She eyed him for a moment before continuing, “Equestrian events are considered particularly dangerous, as it’s not uncommon for a fall from such a height at a high rate of speed to yield a significant spinal injury. Henry here is very lucky. When he’s lucid again, please remind him to take the utmost care.”

“I will, Doctor Jackson, I promise.”

She left the room and Alex looked down at Henry as he reached for the phone in Alex’s hands. 

“Are you wanting to do something on my phone, or do you want your phone?”

“My phone,” Henry repeated.

He reached into his pocket and pulled out Henry’s phone that Shaan had handed him in the car. “Okay, you play with that while I contact everyone and let them know you’re okay.”

Before Alex could dial Bea, his phone started ringing with an unsaved number. However, this number started with a +44 and was identified as being from the UK, so it stood to reason that it was about Henry. Unsure if it was a member of Royal staff or some tabloid, Alex answered cautiously, with a “Hello?”

“How is he? What happened?”

Alex paused, pulled the phone away to stare at it a moment, then lifted it back up to his ear. 

“... Philip?” Alex asked, incredulous.

In his peripheral vision, Henry made a sour face at the name.

“Yes, now tell me what happened please,” Philip urged. “His equerry informed Buckingham that there was an injury at a polo match and that’s all. I’m hoping you have an update by now.”

“Oh, uh yeah, he just broke his wrist fortunately. It’s in a cast and it’ll be fine in like 6 weeks. He’s on some drugs right now and we’re just gonna go home and I’ll take care of him for a few days.”

Alex heard a deep sigh on the other side of the line. 

“Great,” Philip said, his curtness returning. “Glad to hear it. Thank you for the update. Please do keep us informed if anything changes. I’ll inform my grandmother, so you don’t have to worry about that.”

“Sounds good, thanks, Your Highness.”

There was a long pause on the other end of the line before the call disconnected. 

Alex shook his head, saved Philip’s number as “HRH Asswipe,” and went to call Bea anyway. She’d want to talk to Henry. As he let her know everything that happened, he glanced down to see that Henry had gotten into his Twitter account. 

“Oh shit, hang on Bea–” he wrestled the phone away from Henry, only to see that he’d already posted the single word “falafel.”

Struggling now more than ever to contain his laughter, he left the Tweet up as a little gift to Henry’s followers, but switched Henry’s phone to airplane mode so that all he could do was play mobile games. 

“Okay, Bea, I think Henry’s getting a little fidgety and maybe hungry so I’m going to fill out the discharge papers and get us out of here. I’ll get some food in him and make him take a nap and we’ll check in with you again when he’s awake, sound good?”

“Yes, of course Alex, I can’t thank you enough for taking care of him. Let him know I can be on the next plane if he asks for me.”

“Absolutely, no problem,” Alex reassured her while actively wrestling with Henry, who had begun getting handsy with the button on Alex’s jeans, “Talk soon!”

He hung up the phone, gave Henry back his own phone, and gently pressed him back against the pillows. 

“If our situations were reversed, you’d be calling me a menace for that, Henry,” Alex chided through his laughter. “I promise I’ll order you all the falafel you want if you behave so I can sign you out, okay?”

Henry was already lost in a doomed round of Candy Crush.

Eventually, they were able to make it back to the brownstone, takeout bags in hand. 

“Here, let’s get you changed and comfortable so that you can eat and then take a nap. I’ll put on Return of the Jedi if you behave.” 

Henry put up less of a fight as Alex helped him out of his polo outfit (“this was really not the way I imagined taking this off of you today,” he joked), into pajamas, and onto the couch. 

***

Chapter Text

***

Henry woke slowly, floating in that pleasant feeling of being incredibly warm under a pile of soft bedding in a chilled room. As his consciousness returned in waves, he became aware of other comforts in the room that lulled him into a continued sense of peace. A warm, snoring ball of fur snuggled up to his chest. A long arm wrapped around him from behind, grasping onto his wrist even in sleep. The heat emanated from Alex’s body where they rested against each other head to toe. Henry smiled to himself and kept his eyes closed, absentmindedly leaning back into Alex and brushing a hand down their dog’s curled back. 

The deep breaths against his neck grew lighter and softer as Alex woke. Neither of them spoke for a moment, taking their time and encouraging a slow morning. Eventually, David stirred, stretched, and jumped down from the bed, likely towards the doggy door for their small backyard. 

“Happy birthday, baby,” Alex mumbled into his ear.

Henry hummed. “Happy birthday to me, indeed,” he responded, pressing himself back against Alex. Alex’s hand trailed across his chest and traveled lower, encouraging slightly more vigorous morning activities. Henry sighed, fully intending to enjoy spending a long morning together in bed. 

Languid morning sex led to each of them falling back asleep. They woke up again, similarly to the first time, and made their way to their oversized shower, filling the entire en-suite with steam. 

Eventually they made their way down to the kitchen, pulling out ingredients to prepare breakfast for themselves and David. After Alex’s initial suggestion of having Henry sit comfortably and wait for Alex to make an elaborate meal to treat him to was turned down, they agreed on a plan to prepare a lavish breakfast together. 

Henry’s upbringing has been wildly different at different times in his life. At times, he was just a child, the youngest in a happy family, excitedly banging around in the kitchen while his mom and dad helped prepare food and wrangle their young children into eating. Other times, he was a lonely, isolated teenager, hiding away from the world and his dismembered family, being served bland food that he couldn’t bring himself to prepare, hating himself for accepting quintessentially royal treatment. Now, though. Now his life was completely different from any expectation he could have ever fantasized about, and he had his own kitchen that came with the presence of the love of his life instead of any staff. 

So, no thank you to being served. He wanted to be there with Alex every step of the way, making delicious food side by side, his partner encouraging his newfound interest in learning to cook. 

Of course, their beautiful morning wouldn’t be complete without Alex imposing his menacing ways, following up his incredibly sweet “happy birthday” message on Twitter with another that included a photo of him from that morning, mid-sentence and hair askew. Granted, Alex’s “menacing ways” were the very thing that endeared Alex to him so much. So he did, in fact, give Alex permission to make the silly post with the ridiculous picture, despite how it appeared to their social media followers. 

At Alex’s public encouragement, birthday messages poured in throughout the day on Twitter, causing the hashtag he’d created (#happybirthdayprincehenry) to trend worldwide. The messages from strangers across the world continued to warm his heart and mist his eyes, truly never having imagined that there could be a life for him at any point that included being publicly out to the world and still supported. 

Messages from his loved ones were the most moving, of course, and the messages from his sister, his best friend, and even Alex’s sister were very sweet and very appreciated. Then the President of the United States herself was calling him “sugar” and describing him as a member of her family and he was close to crying again. The birthday message from Philip was enough of a shock that he almost didn’t notice the ones from Nora, Shaan, and Zahra (though he never quite forgot getting caught by her half-naked in a hotel room in DC, and seeing her name still sent a jolt of embarrassment through him). However, it was Oscar’s message, calling Henry his son, that had him actively stopping in his tracks and pulling Alex aside while they walked through the city so that he could wipe his eyes discreetly. 

The two of them spent the day traversing Brooklyn, going to literary events, a food truck for lunch, and a show in the park. Hive Mind Bookstore was putting on a “Queer Book Fair” at The Bush with the tagline on the advertisement reading “Like a Scholastic book fair, but gay.” Henry got as many books as their tote bags could carry, and Alex shouldered them while he continued to look around. 

Interestingly, people didn’t seem to notice them very much. There were a few times someone would make eye contact and then their eyebrows would raise, but usually the New Yorkers around them would school their expressions into something more casual and either greet him with a simple “hello” or just continue walking. 

They stopped by the market at Brooklyn Museum and collected several handmade crafts from local artists while they ate Lebanese street food from a truck, eventually winding up at Shakespeare in the Park at the outdoor Delacorte Theater, watching a live production of The Comedy of Errors. 

Messages continued to arrive, including a sweet one from his mother, and some from other people in Alex’s life, including his stepdad and Rafael Luna. He privately messaged each of them back, grateful to connect to his mother again and very pleased to feel so welcomed by everyone in Alex’s life. 

Alex, meanwhile, conspired to post another photo of him from that afternoon, once again making it appear to the public as if he posted it against Henry’s will for comedic effect. The only thing that genuinely took him by surprise was when Alex used the @HRHDavidTheBeagle account Bea had created to post from their dog’s point of view. Although, Henry wasn’t sure exactly why he was surprised. Looking back, it was extremely Alex to get that password from Bea and make silly public comments as if they were from the dog. 

What had quickly become one of Henry’s favorite birthdays ended with takeout containers and Pride and Prejudice from their couch, Alex on one side and David on the other.

***

Chapter Text

***

When Selena handed him the sign-in sheet, he was more nervous than anything. A casual, intramural pickup lacrosse game looking for random interested participants. No pressure, no official scored games, no practices, just people gathering to play if they wanted to. Sounded like the perfect fit for him–Alex loved being involved in a team sport, loved the exercise and the thrill of competition, even if mild. However. 

Who would be around? Who would come to this and see him? Would people come photograph him? Would his presence there be enough to crowd the field enough to ruin the game for everyone else? Would people think he was being annoying, inserting himself into other people’s spaces? What would the fucking Daily Mail try to say about h–wait. 

What would the Daily Mail say?

The day Alexander Gabriel Claremont-Diaz actually cared what the Daily Fucking Fail had to say would be the day the world stopped turning. He snatched the sign-in sheet and scribbled his name. He made it just illegible enough that maybe as the sheet went around, his presence wouldn’t be noticed too much.

On the day of the pickup game, all seemed safe. There had been no Tweets about his presence there (he’d scoured his mentions), there had been nobody walking up to him on campus to ask about it, there’d been nothing. So, tentatively, Alex pulled on athletic gear and made his way to campus, Cash whistling behind him. Henry had said he might stop by to check on him later, maybe after taking David to the dog park they went to near campus. Heart already pounding, he put his game face on and approached the group as casually as possible.

Okay, Megan was going to be so proud of him. He was doing it! He just walked right up and introduced himself, shook some hands of some of the other players that must have seen his name on the sign-in sheet, given how unsurprised they looked to see him, but nobody made any comment about who he was, just responding to his offered hand and “Hey, I’m Alex,” with their own hand and their own name in return. This was going well!

Soon enough he was just back in his lacrosse headspace, playing the game and not worrying about anything else. 

On a water break, Cash caught his eye. He stepped a bit closer to see if he needed to be alerted of anything.

“So, I thought you might want to know, “ he began, “There’s this one person tweeting excessively about you being here. It appears the entire reason she’s here is to watch you. We looked into her and she looks harmless, but just in case you wanted me to…encourage her elsewhere, we could do that.”

Alex thought about it for a minute. “Nah, it’s fine if it’s just one person.”

Cash nodded to him and he returned to the game.

With the ongoing game taking up most of his focus, he didn’t notice Henry arrive, but at some point he looked over at the few people on the side of the field and noticed him. Well, to be fair he noticed David first. He smiled at Henry but stayed in the game.

Eventually the game came to an end for the day, and he enjoyed chatting for a bit with the rest of the players as they discussed the game and rehydrated. As he walked over to where Henry and David were sitting, he pulled out his phone and checked his mentions, looking for that girl Cash had mentioned. He cackled to himself; the tweets were, in fact, pretty harmless and honestly kind of funny. He could stand to say hi to her and make her day.

***

Of course, this interaction could not go unnoticed by April’s friend Evan, who had continued to become increasingly flabbergasted by his and April’s friendship. Fortunately, he was also coming across as more endearing and funny than creepy, although Cash often told Alex he was a bit too generally welcoming. Alex wouldn’t mind meeting him if he was visiting April.

***

As Alex picked up Chipotle for himself, Cassie, April, and Selena to eat together before the NYU Law event that evening, he marveled at how far he’d come. He knew June had always worried about him, pretty much regarding everything. She worried he’d work himself to death, isolate himself, neglect his own happiness, that overall he’d be a bit too much like their mother, putting ambition before everything. And there was certainly a catalog of examples to pull from throughout Alex’s attempts at running himself ragged throughout high school, undergrad at Georgetown, and on the campaign trail that justified June’s concern. But now. Now he was making friends, taking breaks, spending time with Henry, traveling, and just taking time to actually enjoy his life. He knew June was incredibly proud of him, Henry was proud, and, with some help from Megan, he was getting better at feeling proud of himself too. 

***

Fucking Us Weekly. Is there literally nothing better to report on? There isn’t enough war and famine in the world, we need to make up nonsense to sell magazines? We need to sit around and flat-out lie about people’s lives for entertainment and call it journalism? They clearly lie about their “sources,” considering anyone actually close to Alex and/or Henry would know how much they gross people out with how all over each other they are all the time. They try to stir the pot about his sexuality, trying to suggest he’s straight, trying to suggest he’s gay, just anything to erase his bisexuality. It’s too much. 

Alex sank low in his chair, covering his face with his hoodie. His reserved study room in the library was remote enough, but he got such a feeling of disgust from these tabloids that he just needed to feel secure, away from the world when they caught his attention.

It used to be fun. It used to be one of their favorite jokes, he and June, going through the tabloids and laughing at the nonsense they would publish. Not so much anymore. He feels overly seen, too perceived…violated. It’s likely why he he enjoys Twitter so much, he gets to control the narrative that he puts out, he gets to decide what gets shared and how, and any information comes directly from him. And then there’s the simultaneous positive and negative about tabloids invading social media spaces too: they corrupt his feed and bring his mood down, but he also gets to shoot them down, immediately and publicly. Fuck them.

Maybe he could speak a little more directly to Twitter himself. He could do a Q&A, shift the focus on the things he actually wants to talk about. Positive stuff. There’s a thought.

***

Chapter Text

***

Okay, he was ready. He’s at his oversized desk, stacks of papers and books pushed aside for once. He’s got his tumbler of cinnamon coffee, he’s gotten into a comfortable position in his chair, he’s got the perfect view of the love of his life sitting 5 feet away at his own desk. Whoever had the idea to make a joint study where their desks face each other was fucking brilliant. Oh wait, that was Alex. Way to go, Alex. 

Mentally high-fiving himself, Alex cracked his knuckles and cleared his throat. “Okay babe, I’m gonna do the Q&A thing. I’m expecting a ton of questions about you so I’m gonna be repeatedly bugging you.”

“You could never bug me,” Henry replied, gracing him with a gentle smile and soft eyes. 

“Liar. I’m annoying as fuck.” He opened his laptop instead of watching Henry roll his eyes.

“You need to stop talking about yourself like–” 

“Shh,” Alex interrupted, “It’s go time.”

Laptop on. Glasses on. Twitter up. Here we go.

***

“Aw, that Jamie girl from the lacrosse game sent a question!”

“Unsurprising but sweet,” Henry said, without looking up from his own work. “What’s your first question?”

“I’ve got a few here about school. Easy topic to start with.”

“I’ll bet.”

***

“...civilllll….riiiights…..lawyerrrr….orrr…studyinggggg….internationalllll….lawww. There.”

“International law?” Henry interjected.

Alex paused his typing. “Yes?”

“I didn’t know you were also looking into international law.”

“I mean yeah, for one it’ll help overall if I do decide to go in the direction of immigration law or civil rights law, but also, like. Just in case.”

“Just in case…of what?”

Alex stared at Henry. “Just in case we end up having to move to London,” he explained slowly. 

“I…don’t have any plans for us to move to London,” Henry clarified. “I definitely didn’t think you had any plans for us to move to London. Your whole life is here.”

“Well, yes, but there was also a time that your whole life was there,” Alex gestured vaguely eastward. “You moved for me; it’s not crazy to imagine I would move with you if The Crown called you back. We all know how your grandmother is but I won’t give up living with you, not ever.”

Henry’s entire expression melted. He stood up from his desk and walked over to Alex’s, leaning down to kiss him thoroughly. 

Still cupping Alex’s jaw, he reiterated, “She’s not pulling me back for any longer than brief visits. My entire world is different now. I have you, I have the shelters, I have the world’s knowledge of my sexuality. I have reasons to fight now.”

“Thanks for the clarification,” Alex responded weakly. 

Henry gave him a satisfied grin and returned to his desk. Alex shook himself through the fog of Henry’s attention and turned back to his own task.

***

“Well, on that fucking note, I have a question here that I’m going to use as a shameless excuse to gush about you. I’ll read it to you before I post.”

***

“Someone asked me what medication I’m taking. Like…what? Who even asks that?”

“You don’t have to respond to all of them, darling.”

“Nah, people still stigmatize the hell out of ADHD medication, I’ll post it. Just a bold question is all.”

***

“Oh, this is funny, someone asked about those dumb icebreaker questions in classes.”

Henry quirked his head towards Alex. “What?”

“You know, those stupid games they play in new classes or orientations or whatever, where everyone goes around and says some fun fact about themselves or some shit. Just to speedrun introductions, I guess.”

“I’ve literally never had that happen.”

“Well, I guess that makes sense for you. Everyone’s known you since birth. Plus I bet they’re way too posh at Eton and Oxford to debase themselves that way.”

That got a huff of laughter out of Henry. “That’s exactly it, I’m sure.”

“But nobody, nobody, likes them,” Alex ranted. “They’re all so dumb. And people already have such a hard time thinking of a fun fact, so what the hell am I supposed to do, someone whose fun facts are all either known by the entire public, make me sound like some pretentious douchebag, or are hidden from the public for reasons.

Like, my mom’s the president? Obvious and douchey. I’m dating a prince? Obvious and douchey. I went to Georgetown? Public information. I’m from Austin? Public information.

If I mention even something simple and common like that I have a dog they’ll know I’m talking about His Royal Highness David The Beagle and immediately think of how he came to be in my life.”

“David is not royal.”

“Treason. Off with your head.”

***

“Baby, what am I a snob about? There might not be much but–”

“Coffee,” Henry replied immediately.

“Uhh–”

“Cologne. Ties. Running gear. Liquor. Beer. Salsa. Dog names. Snack food. Barbecue. University sports teams–”

“OKAY THANK YOU HENRY.”

***

“Oh, wonderful,” Alex joked, “A question about my bisexual awakening.” 

Henry’s eyes snapped up to Alex’s. “Oh, this will be good. I’m not sure that I’ve heard this story, actually.”

Alex’s head reared back and he looked at Henry incredulously. “Baby, you were there.”

That brought Henry up short. “What? No I wasn’t.”

Leaning forward, Alex’s look of incredulity only grew. “Henry…you know I thought I was straight until after you kissed me at New Year’s, right?”

“What?! No!”

“Yes!”

“Absolutely not, you did tell me about your history with Liam! You told me the two of you used to hook up in high school!”

“Yeah…about that…I definitely thought I was straight all through that. Probably put Liam through the ringer on that one. It’s honestly a miracle he’s forgiven me. I literally didn’t even understand why he stopped talking to me for a while after high school, thought it had something to do with being the First Son.”

Henry stared at Alex, mouth agape.

Holding back laughter, Alex sat back in his chair and simply waited for Henry to find his words again.

“Poor Liam.”

Alex shrugged a shoulder. “He’s good now. We’re good now. He eventually let me apologize and I gave him the opportunity to call me every name in the book.”

“Like obtuse fucking asshole?”

He cackled. “Yes, that’s exactly what I was.”

“You genuinely were thick as it gets.”

Alex nodded, “Yeah, I’m two for two on that front, unfortunately.”

“Maybe more than you even know,” Henry suggested unhelpfully, almost gleefully. “Maybe Hunter had a massive thing for you and you didn’t even realize either.”

“Oh god no,” Alex faked gagging noises. “Okay, but it feels like you’re missing the point here.”

“The point that men have been throwing themselves at you for years and you’ve sauntered on, blissfully unaware?” Henry replied teasingly.

“The point,” Alex emphasized, “Is that I’ve technically been with a man before, and yet YOU were the reason I realized that I’m queer. That I liked it. That I wanted you. I was completely blind to it before that kiss. You were the end-all, be-all of my bisexual awakening.”

“Oh.”

Henry gained a significant gleam in his eyes and approached Alex’s desk again. Alex only returned to his laptop several minutes later, appearance distinctly more ruffled.

***

“Baby, are we comfortable picking one of these photos to share? It’s fine if not,” Alex asked, indicating towards the collage on the far wall.

The two of them looked through the photos for a moment, before eventually Henry pointed to the Prince Consort Road picture. “That one will get a laugh.”

Alex grinned and snapped a photo on his phone.

***

“Alex.”

“Mm?”

“What is this falafel exchange?”

“Falafel exchange?”

“The question you just answered about me and falafel?”

“Not ringing any bells.”

“Okay, Pez just–oh for fuck’s sake.”

Alex’s laughter didn’t die down even a little when Henry threw a balled-up piece of paper at him. "But you were so cute when you were high out of your mind, you have no idea!"

***

“Ah, a question for me: ‘What’s something he wouldn’t tell us himself?’ At last,” Henry said menacingly. “I’ll have my revenge.”

Alex raised a single eyebrow at him.

“What sordid tale should I spin?” Henry pretended to think carefully, lifting his head up and tapping his chin dramatically.

“You know what,” Alex began, “You go ahead and share whatever story you want for this question. Full permission granted. I want to see what you come up with.”

Henry grinned wickedly at him and Alex’s life flashed before his eyes.

Alex groaned at the description, posted on Twitter for the world to see, of himself performing the entirety of the Eras Tour for Henry in their living room. “Just for that I’m going to share your original contact name.”

“Wait, what was it?”

He finished typing with a flourish. “Read it and weep.”

Reading over the post, Henry barked out a laugh. “Oh my god Alex is that true?”

Alex cackled. “Remember I kind of still hated you at that time.”

“Or you mistook your little butterflies when you saw me for jealousy and anger instead of an intense desire to get on your knees for me.”

“Okay, yeah, laugh it up.”

Henry pushed his laptop to the side, giving up on any pretense of getting his own work done. “This whole process has been quite the enlightening experience for me, I have to say.”

“Yeah? You should do your own Q&A.”

He shook his head. “Absolutely not, it’s a miracle gran lets me have the amount of social media that I do. She’d have my head if I did a Q&A; it’ll never happen.”

“Ugh.”

***

April cornered Alex just before class started. “Okay, listen, you’ve insinuated twice now that you’d be down to meet Evan, so I’m holding you to that because he will NOT leave me alone about it.”

“Well hello there April, one of my good friends who definitely never brings up my public figure status, never expects anything special from me, signed an NDA…”

As their professor walked into the room and began setting up, she whispered, “Shut the hell up. We’re going to dinner tomorrow night because Evan’s in town. You don’t have to bring Henry but obviously you can if you want. Although Evan might fully pass out.”

“Aw, he wouldn’t want to make it a little double date?”

“Evan’s not into me. If anything he’s into you.”

“Sure, sure. I know sheer obliviousness when I see it,” Alex teased, and then hastily added, “In other people. “I won’t bring Henry to help ease poor Evan’s heart, but if he confesses his feelings for you by the end of his visit you owe me a coffee.”

April rolled her eyes and pulled out her laptop as today’s case study appeared on the projector screen.

***

Alex followed Cash into the restaurant through a side door and then split off with him, Cash heading to an empty table off to the side of the table where April was sitting with another man.

He walked up to them and took a seat opposite the new person. He held out his hand and said, “Hi, you must be this Evan I’ve heard so much about.”

Evan, with wide eyes and a flushed face, a sheen of sweat just barely forming, pushed his hand into Alex’s, shaking it vigorously. “Hi, oh my god, it’s so nice to meet you. I’ve been a big supporter of your mom’s since she was in the Senate and then to see your story play out with Prince Henry, I mean just, that must have been so fucking devastating for you but also incredibly brave and I’m just so in awe, the two of you handled that so gracefully and you’re such an inspiration to the community and–”

April grasped Evan’s bicep. “Evan, dude, I think you can let go of his hand.”

Evan dropped Alex’s hand like it was on fire and took a gasping breath.

Before he could start rambling apologies that weren’t needed, Alex interjected, “Hey it’s cool. I really appreciate you saying that. So, how long have you two known each other?”

The more of April and Evan’s backstory he learned, the bigger his smirk became. That boy was absolutely in love with April and he was absolutely going to win this bet.

***

Chapter Text

***

It wasn’t long ago that Alex encouraged Henry out of a climate conference in Germany to meet up for certain nefarious activities in Paris, and now here he was, being the Dutiful First Son and attending the same conference in the same location, a couple of years later. 

As much as he did care about working to help resolve the climate crisis, and as much as he did want to be there for his FSOTUS responsibilities and in general support his mother…it was a bit boring. 

Fortunately, Henry had also come along. Now all he had to do was find a secure enough cloakroom.

***

The shift to life in New York was absolutely thrilling. Getting to live with Henry was incredible. Getting to spend his time with other law students in a largely open and accepting region was fantastic. It was just a bit tougher than he expected, how much he missed his sister and his best friend. 

Somehow he was so full of energy and excitement during the move that he didn’t spare very much thought to how drastic of a life change it would be when his sister finally declared him mature enough (or, at least, secure enough under the eye of his new babysitter, Henry) for her to no longer feel compelled to live under the same roof or even the same city as him. But now it’s clear as day how much he had relied on her steadfast presence. And how much he would relish going to bother Nora when he inevitably annoyed his sister to the point of being kicked out of her room. 

So Alex jumped at the chance to take an unplanned train ride north to Boston, but not before shooting off quick texts to June, Bea, and Pez that they were having an impromptu reunion at Nora’s. Everyone else was also immediately on board; looks like he wasn’t the only one missing the others.

***

The Richards trial was coming up. It was getting more and more press, and every time it popped up on Alex’s feed, his breath caught. Just a bit. It was fine. It was all fine, really, he wasn’t worried. He was sure it was going to work out. He just needed to not think about it. He just needed to not think about it, stop, stop. The memories and feelings that rose in him like bile every time he saw that name threatened to choke him, but he could swallow it down. He’d just pull out that Contracts Law and Practice text and focus on the case study. It was totally doable. 

His fingers tapped erratically against the side of his leg as he read the same sentence for the third time.

***

So objectively Alex knew that Zahra had been joking about uninviting him to her wedding. His leg still bounced nervously on the plane, alternating between twisting his fingers and biting his nails. Henry shifted closer, pulling one of Alex’s hands into his own and placing another on his knee to steady him. 

“You’re not going to ruin anything, love. It’ll be a quiet affair; you know how they like their privacy.” 

Trust Henry to cut right to the core of his anxieties. 

As it turned out, the wedding was quite a small event, barring the fact that international heads of state were present. Alex relaxed in the presence of people he knew, people he viewed as family. His chest felt warm and light as he watched Shaan and Zahra exchange vows, cut their (undamaged) cake, spin around their first dance. He took turns dancing with Henry, June, Nora, Shaan, and even Zahra. The atmosphere was quieter than expected: warm, peaceful. The celebration was in the quiet contentment of the small gathering and the comfort of familiar faces.

Alex stayed quiet on the drive back to Kensington for the evening, until a hand slipped into his.

“Anything the matter?”

Alex turned away from the window to look back at Henry. “No, I’m good. Just thinking. It was a nice wedding.”

Henry hummed in agreement.

“I want our wedding to be like that.”

Henry’s eyebrows jumped into his hairline before his shoulders dropped and his face relaxed into a gentle smile. “Our wedding, huh?”

“You can’t tell me you haven’t thought about it.”

“Oh, I have. Every day since Rio.”

Alex squeezed Henry’s hand. Kissed his knuckles. “Anything to share?”

“This is going to sound tremendously sentimental, but I truly don’t care what the wedding itself looks like, as long as you are the one standing up there with me.”

“One day,” Alex began, “we’ll get engaged. We’ll plan out all of the ridiculous fanfare that goes with a wedding. And we’ll stick it to your–” he lowered his voice, mindful of The Crown’s driver in the front seat, “bitch of a grandmother, and we’ll ride off into the sunset.”

With a secret smile, Henry lowered his head to rest on Alex’s shoulder. “We’ll have to talk more sometime about all of the logistics, whether you’ll want to be titled, whether we’ll have an official Royal wedding in Westminster, how to tell The Firm you won’t be converting to the Anglican church. But all that aside…it sounds wonderful.”

***

“Philip.”

“Yep.”

“Philip.”

“Yep.”

“Nope. No, I refuse to believe Philip is coming to your show tonight until I see him there myself,” Alex declared, rolling his eyes. “Not a chance in hell.”

“I couldn’t believe it either, honestly,” Bea replied, turning another tuning peg above the fretboard of her guitar. “But, he was there when I invited Mum and he asked if he could come, too.”

Henry sipped delicately at his tea. “I wonder if he’ll be shocked to see what kind of music the Arctic Monkeys play. I’d wager he’s expecting to see some sort of classical music with a full orchestra.”

Bea snorted. “You’ll have to get a picture of his face for me, then.”

Alex and Henry arrived at the VIP tent at the concert a few minutes after the headliners were already performing, having spent most of the openers’ performances backstage meeting the band. 

Reaching the tent and finding Henry’s mother and brother both present, surrounded by PPOs, was still a bit of a shock, regardless of the advance warning of their attendance. Catherine looked completely at ease, standing casually and swaying to the music, eyes on her daughter. Occasionally someone would pass by and greet her, and she waved genially each time. 

Philip looked like he was observing the presentation of some new scientific invention. He stood straight, hands in his pockets, face not revealing a single emotion as he watched his sister perform. His focus appeared to be entirely on her, as if she were some puzzle to solve, as if trying to ascertain exactly what he was seeing before him. 

Ah, well, Alex thought. At least he’s showing interest in who his siblings actually are. 

After a while, Alex and Henry were entirely caught up in the concert, dancing around each other, greeting people as they passed the tent, singing along with the band, and cheering boisterously for each of Bea’s guitar solos. As the song Perfect Sense came to a slow end, Alex, giggling as Henry spun him around to the beat, locked eyes with Philip and caught a gentle, indulgent smile on his face. Upon realizing he’d been caught, Philip jerked his gaze toward the stage again. Emboldened, Alex made a split-second decision. 

“ Philip! Dance with us!” He reached out and yanked him by the arm, linking their elbows and nudging him with his shoulder until he appeared to be swaying to the beat. Henry let out a loud laugh when Philip rolled his eyes but made no move to separate himself from Alex. Hoping to give the brothers an opportunity to actually have some fun in each others’ company, Alex took off with Cash to grab a round of drinks. When he returned the two were engaged in a lively debate over which Arctic Monkeys album was better. Alex happily joined in to tell them they were both wrong. 

***

Chapter Text

***

It’s Alex’s 5th birthday, and he’s on his way to get a box of cupcakes to bring to his 1st grade class. Dad is at work already. He has a really big desk and he gets lots of phone calls. Mom has a big meeting today with really important people, she says. Alex even heard one of their names on TV! She gave Adam’s mom some cash, and he’s so excited that they’re going to stop at the store on the way to school to get cupcakes to pass out to his class. They didn’t have the dinosaur ones he wanted, but that’s okay, the blue and green ones are good too. Last month Vince’s dad came to pass out lumpy but delicious cookies during Circle Time and he read a story to the whole class. Alex’s mom won’t be at Circle Time today, but she might be home a bit earlier tonight! He’s so excited.

***

It’s Alex’s 10th birthday, and June is walking him to school. This morning she made him some extra dark pancakes, gave him a handmade sign with glitter and bubble letters to decorate his trophy shelf with, and showed him the packages his parents had left wrapped for him. Yesterday she helped him write out birthday party invitation letters to give around to his classmates today. His whole class is invited! For the party, June’s going to walk him to a roller skating rink for his birthday party this weekend, since it’s close–she’s not old enough to drive yet. And his parents are going to try to plan a family dinner next weekend! He’s so excited.

***

It’s Alex’s 17th birthday, and he’s at school extra early to lead the morning announcements during 1st period, then he’ll have a student council meeting over lunch, and lacrosse practice after school. When he gets home he’ll need to spend at least 3 hours studying for the AP US History essay exam tomorrow, and then he needs to finish up 2 other papers. Originally, he and Liam were going to make plans, but he hasn’t heard back from him in a while. June’s going to come home from college this weekend to take him out for his birthday, though. He’s so excited.

***

It’s Alex’s 20th birthday, and the Texas file isn’t going to write itself. He has files and files of gerrymandering patterns and history to go through: ways that the state legislature has intentionally organized county lines around certain voting patterns in order to ensure that progressive-leaning voters would have their votes smothered in their regions and that the conservative-leaning voters would always be the majority in their counties. It’s so tangled up in the state laws that it will take a tremendous overhaul to undo. But he knows that the Texas governor election voting pattern in the last couple of decades has come down to 49% red, 49% blue, 2% independent. Texas is not red, Texas is purple. It’s flippable, he knows it. He just has to untangle some of these old voter suppression tactics, and–is that Chipotle? Okay, June and Nora brought him Chipotle. They’re forcing him to take a break, but right after he’ll get back to the file. He’s so excited.

***

It’s Alex’s 24th birthday, and he wakes up alone. But the space next to him in the bed is still warm, the ghost of an arm around his waist still lingering, a wet spot on his cheek from a dog’s tongue. The smell of cinnamon permeates the house. Downstairs, an elaborate spread is laid before him, filled to the brim with pancakes, eggs, chorizo, fresh tortillas, muffins, and a quiche with spinach and feta. Henry’s apron is flecked with powdered sugar, the coffee’s hot, and the good morning kiss is slow. 

It’s Alex’s 24th birthday, and he has class. When he arrives, April hands him another large coffee, fresh from Dunkin’, and informs him that he’s expected to go to lunch with the group, no excuses. Selena pulls out a ridiculous Moana-themed party hat, and he lets her take a single, secret picture of it on his head before he pulls it back off. She snaps another photo of it on the desk in front of him, and he gives her permission to share it online. Others in the class tell him “Happy birthday!” and they don’t make fun of the hat, they don’t try to take a photo. April, Evan, Selena, and Cassie bring Alex to his favorite local Mexican restaurant–the only acceptable one in Brooklyn, in his opinion–and they bring out birthday candles and sing the song loudly enough to get the whole of the tiny restaurant participating. They mutilate his tamales with birthday candles and he’s almost laughing too much to eat them. 

It’s Alex’s 24th birthday, and the love of his life treats him to an overly priced meal at a ridiculously posh restaurant and the two of them giggle together at the pomp of it all while allowing themselves to indulge in no less than 4 desserts split between the two of them. The two of them share a private space in a corner booth and are left alone by the staff while they lean in close and whisper to each other until they’ve entirely lost track of time. 

It’s Alex’s 24th birthday, and starting tomorrow he, Henry, Pez, Bea, June, and Nora will all hole up together in the brownstone for the entirety of the weekend. They’ve got plenty of liquor, a karaoke machine, every streaming service known to man, and materials for turning their living room into a massive pile of sleeping pads, like they’re children at sleepaway camp. He’s so excited.

***

Chapter Text

***

Sunday afternoon saw Alex sprawled out across Henry’s lap on the couch, textbook in hand, while Henry stroked his hair absentmindedly and watched some historical drama about George Villiers. 

It was peaceful, until both of their phones chirped, June’s face lighting up both their screens as four messages appeared in rapid succession in the group chat. 

Super Six

5 Pillars of Society and Alex

We’re All Here BC Alex Can’t Keep It In His Pants

I’m Rather Thankful For That, Actually

STOP CHANGING THE GROUP NAME

my bitches

6 Racoons in a Trenchcoat

Junebug

REVENGE IMMINENT.

Junebug

3…

Junebug

2…

Junebug

1.

Alex

WHAT?????

Alex

HELLO????

Alex sat up abruptly, knocking his book to the floor and jostling Henry enough to hear a soft oof. “What is she doing?!” he demanded to the room at large.

“I don’t know, darling,” Henry mumbled, rubbing his eyes and pausing the TV. “But she did warn you about eating her leftovers.”

Alex was already frantically scrolling through his mentions on Twitter and Instagram. Henry pulled out his own phone, thumbed his way to June’s verified Twitter account, and couldn’t help but laugh when he found what he was looking for.

“WHAT. What did you see???” Henry held his phone out of Alex’s reach, frequently having to shift it away from his grabby hands, reading June’s first tweet out loud until Alex gave up on the phone and started tickling Henry’s sides.

“OKAY, okay, here, read it yourself you absolute menace!” 

The phone was immediately snatched out of Henry’s hands, and the two of them leaned together to finish reading June’s tweet, sharing with the public that she was about to post an embarrassing story about Alex.

“I have no fucking idea what she’s about to say,” Alex groaned, pushing Henry’s phone back at him and grabbing his own. 

“It’s almost like you could have used your own mobile this whole time,” Henry grumbled, refreshing the feed on his own device to see Alex’s public responses. He was absolutely not prepared, however, for June’s next tweet to appear and mention his own name and his appearance in a magazine at 13 years old.

Right as Alex started muttering “fuckfuckfuck” under his breath and frantically typing back to June both on Twitter and via text, Henry began continually refreshing June’s page, eager to see where this story was going. June using this story as revenge on Alex and Alex’s current apparent panic suggested something particularly fun. His mind raced, speculating whether Alex might have used to try to rip up his picture, throw darts at it, something awful that reflects how he used to feel about Henry that will be hilarious now after everything.

He was so going to tease his boyfriend about how he had had to backtrack on all the old negative feelings about Henry when he realized he was developing feelings for him that were positive, and romantic, and—

Well. 

Okay then. Not negative. 

Alex…had been admiring him? Since they were children? 

While still staring down at June’s tweet, Henry asked, “You used to look at a picture of me? Why?”

He turned to Alex, amused, only to be faced with a wide-eyed expression, Alex’s hand over his mouth. He scrubbed a hand over his face before answering. 

“Okay, yes,” he said, “I used to sneak into June’s room and stare at a picture of you like some lonely Victorian spouse longing for my husband to return from war. Stop laughing!” Alex shouted, grabbing the nearest pillow and shoving it in Henry’s face.

“I just. I thought you looked nice. I mean, yes, you were hot, you’ve always been hot, and looking back now I can recognize I probably had a giant crush on you and didn’t realize that’s what it was,” he continued, rolling his eyes at himself. 

“But it wasn’t just that,” Alex insisted. “I’ve told you before that I’d always figured you’d be able to relate to the pressure of the public figure thing that was becoming more part of my life as both my parents gained higher offices and we could bond over it or something.”

He dropped his eyes and linked his fingers with Henry’s. “Which we have, of course.”

Before Henry could respond, Alex continued, “And I always thought your hair looked really soft. I used to imagine running my fingers through it. Even when I was pissed at you after Rio, I never stopped wanting to touch your hair and generally thinking you were beautiful. It’s been plaguing me since I was twelve,” he finished with a laugh.

Henry stared back at him for a long moment. His breathing might have become a bit more ragged; he was struggling to pay attention. 

“You’ve had a crush on me since we were kids.” 

Alex scrunched his nose. “I guess, yeah, technically.” 

“You’ve thought about me that way for that long. ”

“I mean, through the innocence of a childhood crush, yeah. I could never help paying way more attention to you than I wanted.” He shrugged and turned back to his phone. “I need to address June’s treason –”

“No you don’t.”

“What?” 

When Alex glanced up again, Henry was staring at him with rapt attention. “You’ve had a crush on me longer than I’ve even known you.”

“...yes.”

“When we met in Rio and I fell in love with you at first sight, you were already interested in me.”

“I just didn't really realize that it was in that way, but again--yes, technically.”

“You’ve been mine this whole time,” Henry whispered, sliding off the couch and sinking to his knees before Alex. “Take off your pants.”

“Oh. Oh. Yeah, yes, okay.”

***

New Yorkers were very serious about their bagels, Alex had learned. A casual comment about getting them from a grocery store nearly got him assassinated. So now, of course, he was trying the places on the frankly exhaustive list he’d been given of acceptable bagel establishments. Bagel Bob’s just off NYU campus was next, and it had rave reviews, despite sounding like it was named by a 5-year-old.

He was greeted by the typical double-take when he entered. He smiled warmly at the typical ‘Welcome! Let me know when you’re ready to order!’ and began scanning the menu. The girl behind the counter–Karla, her name tag read–waited patiently until he ordered three different bagels and two coffees. As he moved towards the order pick-up counter, she stopped him. 

“So, uh, one of our staffers here is a huge fan of yours. She’s in the back right now, actually. Would you be willing to meet her?”

“Sure, no problem,” he stayed at the counter and put his hands in his pockets while she went to get this other person.

Karla came back several minutes later with a slightly younger girl who appeared to be quite shy, given how much she was trying to hide her face and resisting Karla where she was being pulled by the hand. In Karla’s other hand was a large photo print-out that he recognized.

“This is Ira,” she said, continuing to pull her all the way up to the counter where Alex stood. “She would be absolutely thrilled if you’d consider signing her picture!”

Alex met Ira’s eyes and gave her a big smile. “No problem at all! Thanks for asking!” He took a Sharpie from the stand on the counter and looked down at his and Henry’s Official Royal Suitor photo. “This is one of my favorite pictures of us, actually. We had to pose for so fucking long, you wouldn’t believe, and then out of that whole day the photographer went with this picture, which was a candid. Seriously, after all that useless posing!”

He glanced up and saw that she’d stopped trying to resist Karla and hide her face, now standing up to the counter and listening to his story with rapt attention. “Really? That’s funny,” she responded, her voice barely shaking. 

Sending her a conspiratorial wink, he signed his initials right over Henry’s face, adding a mustache on him for good measure. It made the girls laugh, and he reached out to shake each of their hands. “It was nice to meet you! Thanks for the bagels, y’all come highly recommended,” he said, taking his items from the counter where they’d just been deposited and heading toward the door after they all said their goodbyes.

Carefully balancing the bag of bagels and coffees in his arms, Alex pushed the door open with his hip until Cash grabbed the handle from the outside and held it open. Alex handed him a coffee and a bagel as they walked towards the car, Cash enjoying his food while Alex laughed about what he’d done.

At home, Henry was less amused by the story, rolling his eyes fondly as he carefully unwrapped his own bagel and Alex prepared his tea. 

***

Henry had the day off, and was looking forward to surprising Alex at school with a coffee delivery between classes. He and the PPO who’s been with him most frequently lately, Frank, were navigating the shops just off campus, on a mission to find the right place to get the coffee. Henry’s shit at reading maps, so he and Frank both had their phones up, following the step-by-step turns to get to their destination. Finally, they received the “you have arrived!” notification, and he looked up to find the cheerful Bagel Bob’s sign. Perfect. 

He strode inside and smiled warmly at the double-take he got from the person behind the counter. Karla, her name tag read. He ordered the same two bagels that Alex got for them last time, and when Karla moved to go get the order started, he said, “I beg your pardon, but I was wondering if you happened to still have that photo that Alex signed?”

“Oh, yeah we do, it’s hung up in the back,” she said. “Is that…ok?”

Reaching for a Sharpie from the jar on the counter, he responded, “Absolutely. I was going to offer to sign it as well, actually.”

She brightened and nodded quickly. “Oh yeah of course, let me go grab it!”

She and Henry shared a laugh, looking down at Alex’s signature over his face and the mustache he’d added. “Let’s see, what should I add? I know.” 

Henry added little devil horns to Alex’s head, signed his own name in large letters over Alex’s face, and cheerfully handed the photo back. “Thank you!”

He took his food order and sauntered out of the shop, humming to himself, looking forward to telling Alex what he’d done. 

***

Chapter Text

***

The first alert went off when he was in class. MSNBC announced another upcoming testimony against Richards. 

It wasn’t long after that that the commentary from other outlets started pouring in. The New York Times. MSNBC again. CNN. Every major news source sharing the same bits of news and adding in their own commentaries, expectations, opinions.

It was okay, at first. It was maybe a little crazy that Alex even turned on a Richards Google alert, but he did want to know basic updates about the trial. He wanted to know what was happening, even if the news was devastating. Choosing to seek out the information and controlling what he learned and when seemed better than the news just being casually dropped on him by someone in passing somehow. At least in class his phone was already on silent and when it got to be too much he could just turn it over so that the screen would not light up. There. No more of that for now. Another witness against Richards was good. It was good. It would be good. He was pretty sure.

A shaky breath in and Alex resumed typing case notes. 

***

Alex knew the guy that ran the Courtroom Quotes account. Another NYU law student, a third year. Alex was a first year so they didn’t exactly cross paths all that much, but they’ve met. He usually really liked following this account and keeping up-to-date with goings-on in politics and legal proceedings without having to watch CSPAN for hours on end himself. And he still liked it. He did. It was helpful, Jeremy tweeting snapshots of the trial so that he didn’t have to watch. Didn’t have to see that unbearable fucker’s face. Just thinking about his face elevated his heart rate. 

He rolled his shoulders and intentionally breathed out for an extra 5 seconds. No need to have a panic attack in the library. It was fine. He wasn’t even looking at the guy, for fuck’s sake. Just worry about your notes, Alex. Just do the grounding exercises from your therapist, Alex.

5 things he could see. Uhh…laptop. Graffitied desk. To-go coffee cup from Dunkin’. April’s high-up messy bun peeking over the top of her laptop across the table from him. His phone, lighting up with the news that Richards pleaded Not Guilty. Shit, not helping.

4 things he could touch. Clackity keyboard. The smooth, cool screen of the Apple watch showing him his heart rate is still climbing. The condensation on his coffee cup. He could reach for his phone and turn it over again to hide the screen…or he could put his hand over his own face to try to stifle his heavy breathing. So 4th is…the feeling of his own heavy exhales into his hand. They get heavier as he feels them.

3 things he could hear. Other students in the library talking in a dull roar. The…sound of rushing water in his ears? Was that supposed to be happening? Was he supposed to be able to hear his own heartbeat? His breathing was louder. Was that 3 or 4?

Okay, okay, focus. 2 things he could smell. His own coffee breath where his hand is still covering his face. The smell of books. He could do this. Just focus on the coffee and the books.

1 thing he could taste. 

1 thing he could taste.

1 thing…the taste of the coffee was gone completely from his mouth, replaced entirely by the bitter taste of an overly dry throat. He couldn’t focus on his mouth when his breathing was so erratic and his ears were burning. He brought his hands up higher, covering his entire face as he began to shake in his seat. A weight landed on his shoulders out of nowhere and he jumped up, whipping his head around wildly to find April wrapping an arm around him and looking at him with concern. He tried to speak but couldn’t force words past the rapid breaths. She said something to him that he couldn’t hear, but her tone was gentle. 

She reached for his phone and asked for his passcode. He must have given it, because she typed it in and pulled up Henry’s contact information, then June’s. His vision was too blurred to see what she typed. 

Then she was closing his laptop and packing his things into his tote bag. She threw out his half-full cup of coffee and began guiding him to the front doors. He didn’t know how much time had passed, but Henry was already there with Cash when they walked out, striding forward and colliding with him in a bone-crushing hug. Henry’s shoulders wrapped over Alex’s and he finally felt like he could breathe.

When Henry pulled away and guided him to the car, Cash following closely behind, Alex glanced around and noticed there wasn’t a single person staring at them. Not a single person with their phone out, pointed towards them. He was safe.

***

He’d expected June to be mad. He’d expected her to lecture him about taking better care of himself, but she just took his phone from his hand and replaced it with his own passport. She pushed a suitcase towards him and told him she’d be staying at their place, watching David.

Before he could ask questions, he was ushered onto a private plane. He didn’t ask where they were going, but he pulled a blanket up over Henry and himself and rested his eyes. It would just be for a moment.

***

He woke up in Henry’s lap five hours later to a breathtaking view: Henry’s face in the sun, looking back down at him with a gentle smile. A glittering ocean and sprawling beaches through the plane window. 

***

Alex and Henry settled into their villa in Puerto Vallarta, Mexico.

Days passed on the beach uncounted.

The cocktails kept coming, getting stronger and fruitier as time went on. 

Alex shamelessly enjoyed rubbing sunscreen all over Henry every couple of hours.

Henry read under his umbrella and Alex dozed next to him on the sand.

Water splashed around them as Alex octopus-clung to Henry in the water, kicking his feet like a kid.

There wasn’t a single phone, laptop, or tablet in sight. No news was reported, no school notes were taken, no writing was done. 

Everything was beautiful and nothing hurt.

***

Chapter Text

***

OH MY GOD GRASS!

It is SO SOFT under my paws! Look how FAST I can run on it! 

BALL! This ball is MINE now! Gotta run with it! Gotta show Dad!

DAD DAD DAD I GOTTA BALL

Dad take the ball!

Dad take the ball!

NO TAKE! ONLY THROW!

Take it take it take take it

HEY FRIEND 

I CAN SMELL YOU HAD CHICKEN TODAY

NO YOU CAN’T HAVE MY BALL

MY BALL

I WILL CHASE YOU DOWN

Come back here!

What Dad yes Dad I’m here! I’m–is that my leash? 

***

When Henry gets home from his day at the shelter, Alex is still in class for another hour. Every day he grabs David’s leash and takes him for a walk at this time. Some days that walk is just long enough for David to potty before Henry takes him back inside to start making dinner. Other days that walk is a long, leisurely stroll, when the weather permits. Every day, David perks up at one particular stop sign, pace picking up, tail whipping more furiously, a cautious glance towards his dad. On this particular day, David’s silent hope is rewarded. Henry continues walking past this particular stop sign and David trots on ahead, extending his leash as far as possible in his excitement. He lifts his leg to pee on the sign for Gramercy Park and then whines at the gate until Henry pushes it open. The 30 millisecond wait between entering the dog park and having his leash unclipped is clearly tortuous, if the wagging of his whole body and the pitch of his whine is anything to go by. But they manage, and David is off.

It’s an 18 minute walk between the NYU campus and Gramercy Park. Henry sends a text message and waits on a bench, watching David chase after a black lab puppy who stole his ball. He goes unnoticed by other dog parents, potentially due to the fact that he’s wearing jeans and a T-shirt. Less than 20 minutes go by before the spot next to Henry is suddenly occupied. Henry is greeted with a kiss and a “how was your day?” before he begins describing David’s latest adventures so far with rambunctious puppies. 

***

Bug

I miss your face.

Bug

I’m calling in an official invasion of NY.

Bug

This is me telling you to prepare because I’m coming down to visit.

Bug

You can’t say no because you have a million guest rooms in your bougie ass home.

Bug

Also we’re going to this.

[link.html]

After class, Alex checks his phone and laughs. He won’t tell her this, but he’s absolutely ecstatic that June invited herself over for a visit. He misses her face too. Clicking the link reveals an announcement from NYU about the Strawberry Festival that weekend. He sends two texts as he walks out of the classroom.

To: Bug

just for that you can take the drafty room

To: Baby ♥️

hey baby june’s invited herself to stay this weekend, that cool with you?

Baby ♥️

Of course. I’ll put extra blankets in the guest rooms for her. 

Henry was sweet and reassuring this morning that he was perfectly content with his own plans to stay home and make progress on the next chapter of his manuscript, though Alex had suspicions that he was intentionally giving him and June a bit of space to spend one-on-one time together. 

They harnessed David up and brought him to campus, where June was looking forward to being shown around NYU and meeting his friends. The strawberry festival was in full swing, with booths all around selling all kinds of NYU merchandise and various sweet concoctions. David got a strawberry from the nice punk kid at the fruit stand, a dollop of whipped cream from the woman offering strawberry smoothies, and an actual strawberry-flavored dog treat from a boy advertising a dog bakery. 

He had the best time, though, when a couple of girls got his attention in the crepe line, giving him all of the baby talk, belly rubs, and extra whipped cream while the humans chatted.

***

It absolutely delighted Alex to post dog POV nonsense from the official, verified Twitter account made for David by Bea. Mostly because it earned him an exasperated huff, an eye roll, a headshake, always something. Anything that caused a non-Princely reaction from Henry was just hilarious in Alex’s book.

What he didn’t know was how much Henry intentionally put on these reactions to indulge Alex. Posting fake-exasperated snark back to Alex online, he smiled and patted David’s head. It was just as fun to rile Alex up. 

***

It didn’t happen often, due to schedules and locations, but there had been a few times Alex had managed to wrangle Henry, Liam, and Spencer into the same space to hang out. The first had been the weekend immediately following his mom’s re-election. More recently, Liam and Spencer had accepted an invitation to the lakehouse, and the four of them were catching up. Liam was manning the grill while Alex ran out to grab more supplies. Henry had eagerly tagged along, enjoying every time Alex wanted to introduce Henry to some new part of the Austin area. Spencer…well, Spencer was supposed to be watching the dog. When he got a bit caught up in watching his boyfriend’s ass instead, David may have completed a successful heist and was already licking the evidence of the stolen hot dog away. 

Shit! What were the extradition laws here? They couldn’t drag him to London and throw him in the tower if he accidentally let a Royal dog eat something he shouldn’t, right? Right??

***

Chapter Text

***

Sweat continued to collect under the mug of Earl Grey on Henry’s desk, long forgotten. Emails were, unfortunately, a more pressing matter at the moment, and his inbox was full to bursting. So lost was he in methodically typing away that a gentle knock at the door did nothing to alert Henry of his guest.

“Hazza, darling, I have some news.”

Henry gave an unfortunate startle, hand reflexively flying off the keyboard and into said forgotten mug, sloshing a small amount of tea onto the desk. 

Pez calmly reached into the tissue box to start blotting the mess while Henry collected himself. 

“Pez, my god, next time warn a bloke.”

“I believe that’s what knocking’s for, beloved.” 

Wiping his brow, Henry sighed and leaned back in his chair. “What can I do for you, Percy?”

“Auntie Pezza.”

A brief glare and: “Auntie. Pezza.”

“Well my dear sweet thing I have interesting news!”

“And what might that be?” Henry’s eyes continued scanning his emails, mentally prioritizing them.

“We’ve just received a nice little donation.”

Already typing again, Henry responded, “That’s very nice. I look forward to adding it to the budget meeting.”

“Oh yes, just a nice little donation. A cool eight million pounds.”

“A–” Henry’s eyes snapped up to meet Pez’s, hands freezing on the keyboard. “I’m sorry, eight million pounds?!”

Pez gave a wide grin in response, finally sitting down in the chair opposite Henry’s desk. “Across all four of our queer and trans youth homes, to be fair. So about two million for each location.”

“That’s–”

“About two and a half million dollars for our little Brooklyn location here, yes.”

Henry brought a shaking hand over his mouth, mind already swirling with ways the shelter’s resources could be replenished, even expanded. “That’s an incredible donation, Pez. Who do we have to thank?”

“Well, there’s the funny thing. I haven’t the foggiest.”

“What?”

“It was sent anonymously.” 

“You’re joking.”

“I absolutely am not.” 

Shaking his head, Henry sighed, “Well, that was certainly generous. I suppose we could post a message of thanks on social media.”

“That we can, Hazza!” Pez stood up to leave. “Right, best be off. Just wanted to share the good news!”

“I appreciate it, Pez, this is really very exciting.”

“Of course!”

As he reached the doorway, Pez turned briefly and asked, “I’ve been meaning to ask you, when was the last time you heard from your brother?”

Eyebrows scrunched in confusion, Henry simply said, “Philip?”

“That’s the one.”

“Er, after that…trial…we spoke on the phone briefly. He’d tried to reach me while we were in Mexico and he asked how we were doing. I think he might have been alarmed that an American  was able to take away my forms of communication and send me off to another country without asking permission or something,” he laughed.

“Right, so…he asked how you were.”

“He did,” Henry shrugged.

“That’s nice. To hear, I mean.”

“Sure.”

“Right, well. Again, just wanted to share the news! I’ll let you get back to your emails. Chat later!”

And Pez swept out of the room in a flourish. 

***

Streetlights flickered overhead as Alex and Henry walked home from the theater, each of them a bit tipsy and a lot tired after a night out together. It was late in the evening, but passing a well-lit store had Henry stopping in his tracks. 

“Whyyy,” Alex mumbled as his arm was inadvertently yanked backward with Henry pausing and Alex continuing on, unaware and attached by the hand. 

“We forgot to get groceries earlier,” Henry explained, pulling Alex toward the door. 

“I’m sleepy,” Alex shot back petulantly, already following Henry into the store.

Standing in front of a selection of produce, Alex continued tossing out fruitless complaints. “This couldn’t have waited til tomorrow?”

“Not unless you want to forgo the ingredients we’d planned for dinner tomorrow, no,” Henry replied, picking up several potatoes.

Alex dutifully carried the bag the rest of the way home after they’d checked out, stealing a few blueberries along the walk. “Bag Holder’s Tax,” he said through chipmunk cheeks.

Blearily crashing through their front door, Alex went to unload the groceries in the kitchen, a feat that became quite difficult when his boyfriend was actively pulling him towards the stairs in the direction of their bedroom.

“Baby, we gotta put these away.”

“Tomorrow,” Henry insisted, taking the bag out of Alex’s hands and dumping it unceremoniously onto a nearby counter. 

Alex was dragged up to their bedroom and promptly forgot about anything but Henry and their bed.

***

Today was one of those rare days Alex came home early, just after Henry.

“So, Philip’s got a new joke,” Alex mentioned casually, walking into the kitchen to find Henry picking up potatoes from the floor.

“He does, apparently. I can’t decide if he’s actually being funny but supportive or if he’s genuinely confused and somehow unaware that he’s posting publicly.”

Alex raised an eyebrow. “What about the odds that his account’s been hacked? Or he’s been possessed by pod people?”

The last potato made it back onto the counter and the pair began washing and peeling them. 

“I mean,” Henry began, “He’s been dropping subtle hints that he wants to try to make amends ever since before we sat for our Royal Suitor photos. He’s come to several of Bea’s events, he’s called me a few times, apparently just to check if I’m okay. After my injury, after the trial…” 

Henry trailed off. Alex remained quiet next to him, a solid presence while Henry gathered his thoughts. 

“I’m willing to speak with him a bit more and see where it goes. I’m not really holding out hope yet that he’s making any actual change, but if he’s making casual and public jokes about our relationship then it’s possible he’s trying to be more accepting. I don’t know. I’m willing to see. Curious, maybe.”

Pulling out a chef’s knife and beginning to chop the potatoes, Alex simply responded, “I’m on board for whatever you want to do, baby. If you want to talk, we can talk. If you want someone in your corner to back you up, you know it’ll always be me.”

“I know.” Henry leaned over and placed a lingering kiss on Alex’s temple before moving on to grab the other ingredients to prepare.

“And if all else fails I’ll just use this knife on him.”

“Alex.”

***

Chapter Text

***

Henry stared at the post from the Manuscript Wish List. It was exactly what he was already writing. He’d been gathering resources, casually researching, and annotating stories of queer historical figures for years. And this…this was a direct request from multiple literary agents who were hoping to find authors in this exact genre to get published. 

He clicked Retweet.

***

A new tradition was beginning. What started out as lofty, then-unattainable dreams of returning to the lake house every year and openly exploring Austin together was starting to sound more realistic. Henry visiting all of the places Alex grew up, eating famous barbecue, and holding hands in public were all finally, genuinely possible, and the two of them thrilled in it. Their visits to Austin brought peace to both of them, each time living more slowly than their time in New York, more privately than their time in London and DC, and more comfortably than they ever allowed themselves to really picture. 

With Henry’s work at the shelters, Alex’s classes, and their respective Prince and First Son responsibilities, they didn’t often budget time for Austin trips more than once a year. However, if they happened to find a long weekend with rare time off, it didn’t take much more than a brief mention of the option before they were packing and heading south. 

The key Henry wore now had unlocked the front door to Alex’s childhood home a few more times since re-election night. Henry knew every baby photo in that home and every lacrosse trophy in Alex’s room.

The Whataburger location Alex used to go to after every lacrosse game had become a new staple for Henry and Alex together.

A list was forming in the notes app on Alex’s phone: Austin Things. It included their plans to go to Franklin Barbecue, tour the Texas State Capitol building and the University of Texas, take paddleboards onto Ladybird Lake, take a boat onto Lake Travis, get drunk and sing karaoke on 6th Street, walk through the botanical gardens in Zilker Park, and float the Guadalupe River. 

So far they’d crossed off Franklin Barbecue, 6th Street, and the Capitol Building. The only picture taken of Henry’s face covered in barbecue sauce, gummy smile mid-laugh, belongs to Alex. There was one photo shared publicly of the two of them holding hands and walking down 6th Street. For the most part, their privacy was respected here about as much as it was in New York. It was starting to feel like another home to them both. 

***

Nora placed her bag in the seat next to her, pulled out her headphones, and hit play on the instrumental playlist she’d created for the trip. Settling into her seat, she pulled up the fic she’d found on Twitter. 

Our Turn

callmefindme

Summary:

My take on how Alex and Henry would have announced their relationship to the world if they had been able to do it their way, based on speculation about what little we know about the actual timeline of their relationship via their emails, social media, and interviews!

Thanks for reading, please find me on Twitter (also as @callmefindme) if you wanna chat #firstprince!

Alex shed his suit jacket and shook it out, spraying flecks of frosting all over the tiled floor. 

“You just splattered cake onto my shoes,” Henry complained.

Alex looked down at Henry’s shoes, absolutely covered in buttercream. “How can you even tell?”

Henry glared and ripped off his blue sash. “This is ceremonial , Alex.”

They were keeping their voices to a whisper, only having made it to a large bathroom off of the ballroom, trying to clean up as much as they could while they waited for a member of the staff to bring them each a change of clothes.

“This is useless,” Alex said, undoing his bowtie and unbuttoning his shirt, swaths of cake continuing to fall from him. “I need to get to a shower.”

The two of them continued to undress and attempt to shake cake off of themselves in companionable silence. 

“Do you think any pictures got out?”

“There’s absolutely no way a blunder like this will go unmentioned to the press. We’re going to be painted as reckless children goofing off like bulls in China shops. My grandmother is going to be quite cross with me.” 

“My mom’s going to be pissed, that’s for sure. At least you’ve literally never had bad press, maybe Mary will let this one slide?”

“Not a chance.”

A soft knock on the door echoed, and Henry went to retrieve the bag of clothes that were brought to them.

“H, new clothes really aren’t going to be good enough. I look like I was the cake at this thing. We’re going to have to sneak out of here and go find a bathroom with a shower.”

“Fine, let me check if there’s anyone in the corridor.”

Henry slowly opened the door a crack and peered through, looking back and waving Alex forward when the coast was clear. Walking quickly but quietly, the two rushed upstairs, dodging places in the building where there might be guests or staff, and managed to escape to an upstairs en-suite guest area that included a large shower.

Alex sighed in relief. “Yes, finally.” He reached over to turn on the shower and stepped back to remove his shirt the rest of the way. He heard a slight squeak behind him and turned around, eyebrow raised.

“Problem?” He asked Henry.

“I’ll just, uh…wait in the hall.”

“Or you could join me.”

“What?”

“We made this mess together, might as well clean it up together,” Alex said with a smirk, taking Henry’s hand and gently leading him back towards the shower, moving slowly enough to allow Henry to back out if he wanted to.

He didn’t.

—

One Year Later…

It was early September, and Alex’s inbox was full of despair. Henry’s email painted a picture of frustration and resignation: a family that was not unaware of his sexual orientation, but rejecting of it. Hope of sharing their relationship publicly and with family support was shattered. Alex ached for Henry and what he was going through right now, across an ocean and completely alone. He typed out a response to gather his thoughts and remind Henry how deeply loved he was, and then immediately dialed his number after hitting send. 

“Hi, love.”

“Baby.”

“Alex, I’m so sorry–”

“Don’t you dare finish that sentence, you have nothing to apologize for.”

“I just hate that this really didn’t go as we’d hoped. We could have come up with a plan and sat down to have a discussion with him and gran about plans, but instead I just blurted it out and now look at where we are.”

“This shouldn’t even have to be a serious discussion you have to plan. You should be allowed to be in charge of your own life, for fucks’ sake. I’m so angry for you that they’re treating you this way. You know all you have to do is say the word and I’ll come over there and beat him senseless, heir to the throne be damned.”

Henry laughed weakly.

“Baby,” Alex continued, "if you still want to come out to the world, you don’t need his permission or even his approval, as hard as it is to not have it.”

There was a sniffle from Henry, but he otherwise allowed Alex to continue without comment.

“This is your choice, but if you decide to say fuck the crown, fuck the advisors, fuck the gilded cage, the pressure, and your fucking grandmother, you are the only person in this world who gets to decide what’s right for you. And I’ll be right there beside you, whatever you choose.”

A lengthy pause stretched between them, the silence companionable and patient. 

“I know. I do want this, and I’m so fucking tired of them making me feel so ashamed. It feels like there’s nothing I can ever do to earn approval or support at this point. If I’m closeted and miserably following orders, I get hate and anger. If I’m talking about trying to live my own life, I get resentment and punishment. I can’t keep catering to their demands, holding out fruitless hope for the acceptance that will never come.”

Alex was thrilled at the confident tone he hadn’t heard from Henry in a while. “Yes! You get to call the shots here! What is it you want, Henry?”

“It’s clear to me now that The Firm won’t accept our relationship or my coming out at all unless they have no other choice. So I’m going to give them a very clear choice: accept me as I am, openly and honestly, or deal with the public knowing exactly how rejecting they’ve been of me.”

“I love it. I love you. You impress me every fucking day, sweetheart. How can I help?”

“I’m going to type something out in my notes here, can you and June read through it for me and give me feedback?”

“Abso-fucking-lutely.”

—

It was mid-September, and the official HRH Prince Henry of Wales Instagram account went dark. All photos previously shared were hidden from public view, and the public went wild with speculation, flocking to Twitter to debate and theorize. 

It wasn’t long before a single new photo appeared. It revealed Henry standing in the sunshine, wearing a simple white button-up, the Progress Pride flag draped across his shoulders, smiling softly at the camera. 

The caption read: Hello, everyone. It is with some trepidation and much resolve that I make this announcement. I’m choosing to share of myself with the world today, knowing that any amount of contempt returned will be eclipsed by the reprieve and the satisfaction that will come from living my life to its most genuine potential. I’ve spent many years hiding behind carefully constructed facades, afraid of letting down my country, my family, or myself if I didn’t adhere to rigorous expectations. With some time, considerable self-reflection, and a few certain someones very avidly encouraging me, I’ve realised that letting down my country would come from living miserably and inauthentically, not from simply being who I am. It took me quite a while to come to terms with the fact that I am the one capable of providing myself all of the acceptance, validation, and love that I need, and if I want to be someone who exemplifies those qualities to others, then I must start with myself.

All of this to say, simply: I am gay. 

And that’s quite literally all there is to say. Thank you.

-Henry

It was Instagram’s record-breaking most-liked photo within 24 hours.

—

It was late September, and Alexander Gabriel Claremont-Diaz’s official Instagram account gained one new photo. In it, Alex gave a silly pose, two peace signs up and his tongue sticking out. He wore a black T-shirt that said in large pink, purple, and blue letters, “I like my men how I like my women.” 

The caption read: im bi as fuck, bi the way ✌️ credit to @PrinceHenryUK being an inspiration to the community. I’m the luckiest man alive to call him my boyfriend.

Then there was a new Instagram record.

— 

Any fallout from their respective coming-out posts was planned in advance between all members of the Super Six. And the President of the United States, but that little tidbit didn’t need to be shared with Buckingham Palace, who was still under the impression that Henry spontaneously chose to come out on Instagram on his own, and that he and Alex started dating shortly after. Outwardly, Buckingham Palace made a show of solidarity, presenting a quite unsurprised and quietly supportive facade. Behind closed doors, there was plenty of yelling from certain elder members of the family. However, in the face of Henry’s newfound confidence, Bea’s excitement, and Catherine’s influence, the Firm was forced to move forward with Henry’s public announcement. The only way to save face was to pretend it had been accepted and planned all along. Henry was… encouraged …to maybe spend some time abroad for a while, and he happily found himself living in New York. 

Alex’s coming out actually did get to be planned with the support and involvement of his family and White House staff. Zahra was just relieved that polling numbers were not projected to decrease and that Alex hadn’t done anything too impulsive with the media. (She’d nearly had an aneurysm when they told her how Henry had come out before telling the Palace, though she understood why). Ellen was proud that her son had felt comfortable enough to come to her with his plans, happy to work with him to make his goals a reality, and overjoyed at how happy he and Henry were together. 

The public had speculated that Henry and Alex might be secretly dating after Henry’s coming out post, due to the number of public appearances made together. When Alex confirmed it in his own coming out post, Instagram shut down for 3 hours.

Since then, photos of the two of them together made regular appearances on each of their Instagram pages. The site held quite a special spot for each of them. 

– 

Nora chuckled to herself at the author’s version of Alex’s coming-out post, immediately copying the link and sending it to the group chat. It was laughably accurate for Alex, but she was most looking forward to Henry’s reaction. He may not always see himself this way, but she recognized the importance of helping him see how inspirational others found him to be. 

***

It was Alex that found it first. In one of his very regular doomscrolling dives on Twitter, he noticed an uptick on Royal Family mentions and followed it curiously. Before any news source broke the story, civilians were sharing comments, reactions, and photos online about Philip and mentioning Henry. 

Alex sat up abruptly when he noticed, wordlessly slapping Henry’s arm next to him at the table until he had his boyfriend’s attention. 

“Why must you accost me when I’m trying to salt my eggs?”

“Philip’s at some royal thing I don’t understand and people are gossiping about him.”

Henry, now spreading a second layer of apricot marmalade onto his toast, responded, “Yes, that’s the Coronation Fund Appeal–”

Alex waved him off. “It’s something totally nonsensical, but Henry, they’re saying Philip got in a fight with some rando!”

“That absolutely cannot be the case.”

“There are dozens of Tweets about it, what the actual hell…” Alex trailed off, reading, as Henry sipped at his tea and read through his copy of The Times.

“Uh, Henry.” 

Henry turned to look at Alex, an eyebrow raised.

“They’re saying some guy at this unintelligible event–”

“–the Coronation Fund–”

“–this completely illogical event had some dude apparently talking shit about you, specifically, and then Philip yelled at him!”

A beat.

“How much do we trust these sources? I find it quite hard to believe Philip dropped his public decorum for anything, even to express his disdain for me–”

“No, Henry, they’re saying he was defending you.”

“Alex, seriously–”

“Wait, wait, wait, the BBC is posting about it, look.” He held his phone out to Henry urging him to see for himself.

Henry stared at the BBC Breaking News post.

And stared.

“This says that Philip yelled at someone making homophobic comments.”

“Yes.”

“I’m sorry, since fucking when would that bother him?”

“Since now, apparently. Hey, check your phone.”

Henry pulled out his phone, and gasped softly at the dozens of notifications. He showed his screen to Alex, who immediately began texting Bea a series of question marks.

Peering over his shoulder, Alex watched as Henry started a new text conversation with Philip, typing out various messages and then deleting them.

What happened?

Is this true?

What is this?

Can we talk?

Finally, he settled on sending nothing more than a question mark, feeling quite at a loss for words.  

Bea’s responses came through while they waited for one from Philip.

Bea

Pip says he’d like to talk with you both. I know you have responsibilities over there, but would it be possible to come up for a visit?

Alex

He can’t just pick up the phone?

Bea

Unfortunately his communication devices have been taken for the moment so that he can’t address any media sources and he’s been sequestered in meetings here at KP.

One look at Henry’s bewildered expression staring down at the text messages, Alex was up and grabbing their suitcases. 

Henry’s words didn’t return to him all the way to the airstrip, but that was alright. Alex was holding his hand, and they were going to sit down and expect Philip to talk. He knew Henry must be going through a lot of emotions at the moment: Alex himself was conflicted between demanding explanations, continuing to give Philip the cold shoulder for the way he’d treated Henry for years, and wanting Henry to actually have a chance at resolution and more support from his family. Among it all, Alex kept a brave face, wanting to be strong for Henry.  But there was an impossible little butterfly of hope blooming in his chest. 

***

Chapter Text

***

The clouds just below the plane zoomed by as Henry stared on, lost in rumination and melancholia. His thoughts cycled, at constant war between cautious optimism and the familiar dread that so often very accurately preceded his talks with Philip. The labyrinth of mental anguish built upon itself, hedge after hedge, until–

Another giggle burst through the silence to his left. 

“I’m so glad this is all so amusing for you, Alex.”

“Aw, am I ruining your Austen heroine vibe?”

“Yes,” Henry pouted.

“I know you’re busy angsting over there, but you should really hear what Twitter has to say. They seem pretty convinced Philip was defending you.”

“It just seems so unlikely.”

“People are saying they’re just now finding him attractive for the first time after this.”

“Ew.”

“Someone said this was the new harambe!” Alex cackled, bookmarking several of the Tweets.

“I truly can’t imagine he’s turning some new leaf, but I also can’t think of another reason he’d act this way.”

“I know, me either honestly. I say we just go in there and see what he has to say with zero expectations, and we’ll decide what’s going to happen after we figure out what’s going on.”

“Yes, I guess we’ll just have to see. Worst case, I’m used to his angry rants and we can always just fuck off and spend time with Bea.”

“That’s the spirit. And I’ll be here with you the whole time.”

***

As familiar as Kensington Palace was to him, the atmosphere upon entering was new. Nothing about the building or its staff had changed, though. Henry couldn’t put his finger on it.

He and Alex arrived where Bea had told them to meet her, and here they were. Back at the same door she’d guarded for him when Philip had been on a rampage after the email leak. At the time, she’d steadfastly blocked the door, keeping Henry securely inside, hidden away from those that would hurt him, those that refused to empathize. 

This time, Henry approached the door from the outside. This time, Bea answered the door and stepped aside immediately.

Uncertain of what he’d find in the music room, wanting to listen, not yet daring to hope, Henry went in.

He and Alex encountered Philip’s profile as he sat with his head bowed, fingers drifting over their father’s old piano. A cup of tea sat next to him, no steam emanating from it. 

The door shut quietly behind them and Philip turned to look at them, visibly taking a deep breath as he did so. Henry remained silent, and Alex used their clasped hands to guide him to a bench seat by the bookshelf.

“Hi Henry. Alex. Thanks for coming.”

Henry nodded back at him. Alex sat still, keeping Henry’s hand firmly in his.

The silence sat, festering between the four of them.

“Maybe you could tell us what happened today, Pip,” Bea prompted.

“Right.” He cleared his throat, turning to face Henry before continuing. “I’m not sure what’s being said in the media, but I do know that I got quite the dressing-down from The Firm. I haven’t spoken to Gran yet.” 

He twisted the ring on his little finger. “Simply put, I was already in an agitated mood this morning, and then there was this tosser shouting and I just lost it; I yelled right back at him. I truly don’t know what came over me.”

Philip paused for a moment, poking again at the piano keys. 

“I don’t understand,” Henry jumped in, startling Bea and Alex. “The media is suggesting certain things about what this bloke was saying, and I’m having a hard time reconciling that implication with what I’ve actually experienced with you, so. We’re going to need further elaboration, I’m afraid,” he concluded, leaning back and crossing his arms. 

Without even glancing up at Henry, Philip kept his gaze on the instrument, responding quietly, “I don’t actually know what to say–”

“–a first for you, huh?” Listen, Alex was working as hard as he could to bite his lip and let Henry and Philip talk, but his diplomacy had only ever gone so far when Henry was hurting.

“Yes.” Philip paused. “I know we haven’t had a close relationship in a while. Years. Since before Dad, honestly. And I think I used to justify it to myself by looking at all of us and how we all fell apart. I was trying to tell myself that if I used enough force I could just make everything right, I could just fix it. Duty and order and all that, then everything else would fall in line. I would tell myself that you may resent me for correcting you now, but one day you’d understand.”

“So what changed?”

“You did.”

“Me? No, I’m not buying it. I only changed in all the ways you were most afraid of, most repulsed by.”

“Henry, I just didn’t understand. I was perfectly happy with my duties, and I always reasoned that you would be eventually, too.” 

A long pause.

“The public isn’t aware, but Martha and I were an arrangement made by The Firm back when we were children. There was a time I hated the idea of being forced to marry her, but over time we did come to love each other. I was operating under the assumption that you’d get there eventually, too. I’m telling you that I’m trying to understand better now. I know now that you never would have been happy or even okay with the life I was pushing on you, and I’m genuinely happy–”

–absolutely not,” Henry interrupted loudly, voice shaking. “I stayed under your thumb for years, barely spoke up or fought back, just taking every demand, every correction, every criticism and let it shape every core belief about myself until I believed myself to be as vile as you described me, and now you try to say that you’re happy for me?” 

“I really, genuinely, did not believe that you could be happy living in a publicly-known relationship with another man. I thought the amount of hate and vitriol you’d receive would never be worth it, to neither this family as a whole nor you in particular. I’ve seen now that I was incredibly wrong and Henry, I’m glad.”

Henry stared him down for a long minute before speaking very slowly. “To this day, even though you claim I’ve changed so much and it’s suddenly somehow granted you this grand epiphany, I still can’t turn off the fear of you. You show up like a looming shadow every time I over-apologize, agree to something I don’t want to do, or keep quiet when someone hurts me. And now you’re telling me that the thing I was most afraid of–standing up to you and living my own life out loud on my own terms–that’s what finally earned your respect? After all those years of fighting every single instinct of mine to just be who you wanted me to be, when I finally just give up and do the opposite, you want to congratulate me? No, I can’t accept this. I refuse.” 

Henry stood abruptly, striding towards the door, though he stopped just before it. He rubbed at his forehead and began to pace in front of the door.

“If you’d rather leave, Henry, I would understand.”

Pausing and leaning back against the door, arms folded, Henry glared ahead at Philip and said nothing.

Philip actually smiled a little at that, chuckling a bit as if he were proud. “I can’t believe I wasted all this time trying to turn you into me or Gran when I could have had this cheeky, funny copy of Dad all along.”

Henry’s expression melted. He let out a deep sigh that reduced all of his features from tense and angry to exhausted and drained. “Pip, I’m so angry at you. I didn’t deserve any of that shite. And none of your justifications make it okay.”

“I know. I know you didn’t, and I was a complete dickhead, to all of you–” he glanced around the room between Henry, Bea, and Alex– “and I don’t deserve it but if you want to at all, I would give anything to earn back a relationship with you. I mean it.”

“I wouldn’t even know where to start, honestly.”

“Being willing to tarnish his own image in the face of your grandmother to yell at a homophobic asshole isn’t a bad place to start,” Alex chimed in. “More of that. Hell, punch a guy next time.”

“Actually,” Philip turned and pulled out a notebook that had been sitting on the piano bench behind him. “I do have some plans written up, here. I started researching, and I want to genuinely do things right for the…” he hesitated a bit, eyes glancing upward as he tried to recall the letters correctly. “L…G…BTQ people.”

“Alphabet Mafia.”

“Thank you, Alex.”

“What’s on the list, then?”

“I need to make public statements condemning my own former actions and statements, I need to help petition for legal protections for the group in Parliament, I can arrange some charitable donations…” He looked up. “I need to heavily apologize for what I did to hurt you and I need to actually be there for you like an elder brother is supposed to do. Henry, I’m so sorry.”

A pause.

“I’m…not going to say it’s okay. But I do appreciate that you said all that. I do want our family to feel like a family again.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. I’m willing to give you the chance to make this right. I’ll need to keep seeing it to believe it.”

“I can do that! Would you maybe like to start with tea?” Philip asked hopefully, nodding toward his neglected cup. “I could use a new one.”

“Sure, you go ahead. We’ll meet you there.”

Philip nodded eagerly. “Sure, yeah, let me just give you a minute.” He quickly stepped out of the room and headed down the hall towards their usual tearoom. 

Bea pulled Henry into a big hug. They stood there for a moment in silence, breathing together. Alex barely heard her whisper, “I’m so proud of you.”

She patted him on the cheek, tossed a watery smile in Alex’s direction, and left to follow Philip. 

Henry sank back into his spot on the bench next to Alex, leaning heavily onto his shoulder. “I can’t believe any of that just happened.”

Intertwining his hands with Henry’s, Alex said, “I can. You were so brave.”

It was a long moment before they made their way down to meet the others for tea, Alex’s cheerful humor and Philip’s eagerness brightening the mood of the afternoon considerably. Henry hadn’t felt this at home in Kensington Palace in several years. 

***

Chapter Text

***

As Alex got to class, set down his things, and began pulling his hoodie off, he reflected on his time in law school now that he was approaching a year in. 

Alex was proud to say he’d settled into law school (reasonably) well. He got the hang of balancing studying, classes, friends, his relationship, and the occasional presidential event. He was becoming accustomed to this new component of public figure life–being known up close and in person by his classmates. It could still be a lot to deal with sometimes. Old insecurities and urges to hide behind his Public Figure Persona™️ came to the surface occasionally, particularly when his own personal life or family matters made it into relevant class discussions on current events and civil proceedings. But it was familiar now. He’d made friends. His professors treated him like anyone else. His classmates didn’t even look twice at him anymore–

A loud whistle tore through his reverie.

“Alriiiiight, Alex! Get it!”

“I would have thought you’d need to buy tickets for this show!”

Alex yanked his shirt down where it had ridden up his chest and took his seat, rolling his eyes and jokingly tossing up his middle finger. 

Okay, maybe some things were still a little weird. 

***

Henry paced the floor, tossing furtive glances between the clock, the book open on the counter, and the small light shining through the glass to his left. David had taken to sitting in the doorway, watching him and whining. Henry worked to control his breathing, reminding himself that there was nothing left he could do. He’d tried his best. All there was to do now was to wait. 

After what felt like several agonizing moments, but according to this –clearly incorrect– clock, only about 36 seconds had passed, there was still no change behind the tiny light.

He took another deep breath.

“Baby, a watched oven never bakes.”

Henry startled, turning towards Alex and crossing his arms. “That saying’s meant to be for boiling water.”

A soft chuckle and Alex’s hands wrapped around Henry’s waist. “Your souffles are going to be amazing. I can smell them already. You’ve practiced, you’ve practiced, and you’ve practiced, and this one’s the batch. I can tell.”

Henry heaved a sigh and leaned back against Alex, finally tearing his gaze from the slowly (so slowly) rising souffles on their rack in the oven. “I hope so.”

“I know it.” Alex kissed his temple, and before he knew it, the timer was going off and Henry was pulling out a perfect tray of souffles.

***

A playlist Alex had found on Spotify called “cozy fall instrumental study session” played gently in the background as he re-read the Marbury case, until his right earbud was unceremoniously yanked from his ear. 

“April what the hell,” he hissed, trying to reach for his earbud back.

“You have to see this,” she insisted, pushing her phone towards him.

Alex stared down at the screen, where her Twitter feed displayed an itemized list of the top five trending hashtags of the day. At the top of the list sat #WeLoveYouAlexAndHenry. He continued staring at it for a good long while, even after his eyes swam and his vision blurred. April squeezed his shoulder and returned to her work, letting him look at her phone as long as he needed.

That night, he and Henry cuddled together on the couch under a blanket, shamelessly scrolling through the hashtag and bookmarking the tweets that made them laugh, roll their eyes, or stare in wonder at all the support they once believed would never come. 

***

The first day of NYU Law’s fall break saw Alex sleeping in significantly later than usual. When he finally woke several hours later than usual, he enjoyed the breakfast Henry had left him on the stove, intent on keeping his promise to spend the day relaxing on the couch and still wrapped in the bedspread. 

The second day of NYU Law’s fall break saw Alex waking up with Henry, making breakfast with him, and feeling bored the instant he left for work. After 45 minutes of watching random trailers on Netflix without picking anything to watch, he threw off the covers, showered and changed, and took himself down to the shelter for a visit. 

He charmed his way past the front desk, waltzed into Henry’s office, and placed a fresh to-go cup of tea on his desk, plopping himself down in the chair opposite his. 

“Hi, baby! Miss me?”

“Bored already, dear?” Henry chuckled, continuing to type. 

Grabbing two of the fidgets from Henry’s desk and tinkering with them, Alex shrugged. “I can only stay still for so long.”

“Of course. Well you’re more than welcome to stay here and keep me company, but you’ll have to entertain yourself, I’m afraid. I’ve got donor meetings to prepare for.”

“Sure, no problem. I’ll just be eye candy while you work,” he responded casually, leaning back in his chair and tossing a stress ball back and forth between his hands. 

Eventually, Alex found his groove and spent the afternoon encouraging various executive assistants to take paid breaks while he cheerfully took over their tasks.

***

Alex chewed on the cap of a highlighter while his eyes followed along the case notes that April was currently reading from. It was the fourth time they’d gone through this case and, frustratingly, he felt no closer to remembering each precedent from it. The smell of freshly baked chocolate chip cookies spreading through the brownstone calmed him a bit. He, Cassie, Selena, April, and Aaron each gratefully took the opportunity for a quick break when Henry set the plate down on the coffee table between them. 

“Thank you, baby!” Alex said as he reached for a cookie. 

Henry responded warmly to the chorus of thanks from Alex’s school friends and turned to go back to the kitchen.

“Stay and eat with us,” Alex urged, reaching for Henry’s arm. 

“I’m making drinks, I’ll be right back love,” Henry kissed the knuckles on Alex’s hand and left to check on the kettle. 

Upon returning, Henry set a tray of coffees, teas, waters, napkins, along with a basket of pens and highlighters. 

“Right! Does anyone need anything?”

“Henry, you are the prince of our hearts,” Alex laughed, “But we are good. Please sit down, we need a break and I want to hear how your day was.”

Henry joined their friends and cheerfully answered several questions about how his manuscript was coming. 

After their friends left for the evening and Alex and Henry were getting ready for bed, Alex spit out his toothpaste and turned to Henry, watching him put his moisturizer on for a moment. 

“Did you see what Philip said to me on Twitter today?”

Henry paused a moment before closing the cap on the moisturizer. “No,” he began tentatively. “What did he say?”

“This was in response to US Weekly randomly saying nice things about us.” Alex pulled up his account and read out loud, “He said, ‘Here’s hoping for more changes in this direction for you both.’”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

“And…how do you feel about that?”

“Me?” Alex asked. “I mean, it’s still surprising sometimes, but I appreciate that he keeps trying to live up to his promises, making public comments in support of us. It’s weird but nice, I guess.”

“Yeah.”

“How do you feel about it?”

“About the same. I’m glad, but I can’t help but feel weary of it. Like I’m still waiting for the other shoe to drop.”

Alex followed Henry into their bedroom, helping him turn down the bed, as much as they could around the dog. “That’s understandable. It’s nice to see him working for it, but that trust isn’t going to come back all at once,” he said, pulling Henry close once they got into bed. “I know it’s still hard for you.”

***

“Alex.”

Alex briefly glanced up from the notes he was typing up. “Mm?”

“Can you come read this and make sure I’m not hallucinating?”

“Hallucinating?” Finally Alex really looked up from his laptop to where Henry was staring very intently at his own screen, a look of awe on his face. He walked over to Henry, leaning over his shoulder to see his screen.

It read, “Congratulations, Mr. Fox! We are thrilled to let you know that we are accepting your manuscript for publication!”

Alex stopped reading and let out a loud cheer, wrapping his arms tightly around Henry. “HENRY! HENRY OH MY GOD THIS IS AMAZING!”

Henry gave a shy smile back. “So, not a hallucination, then?”

“WE HAVE TO CELEBRATE! YOU FUCKING DID IT BABY!” He grabbed Henry’s face and kissed him roughly before pulling back and running back to his own desk for his phone. Ignoring Henry’s dazed (though pleased) expression, Alex posted HENRYS BOOK IS BEING PUBLISHED BITCHESSSS in the Super Six group chat. Immediately the enthusiastic responses came flooding in. 

***

It was late in the evening. Feeling very warm and sleepy after a big meal with the rest of their friends to celebrate Henry’s achievement, Henry and Alex were settled in, wrapped up in blankets and watching the new season of Heartstopper. Unexpectedly, Henry’s phone lit up with Shaan’s name.

It was odd enough to receive a call this late that he paused the show and answered the call right away. In the quiet room, his voice rang out loud enough for both of them to hear.

“London Bridge is down.”

***

Chapter Text

***

“London Bridge is down.”

***

In the dark, Henry sat still. His mouth opened slightly, the only indicator that he’d heard Shaan’s message.

Alex leaned over him and gently pulled his phone away. “Thank you Shaan,” he said. “Do we need to fly out right away or can we make arrangements here and fly out in the morning?”

“The morning should be fine. The public won’t be informed until tomorrow evening.”

“Thank you Shaan,” Henry echoed faintly.

“Of course, sir. I just wanted to say, Your Ro–” he cut himself off, hesitating. “Henry. It’s okay to feel however you feel about this. You’ve always done the best you could.”

Henry cleared his throat. “I appreciate that.”

“I’ll have the plane prepared for the morning. Keep in touch.”

They thanked Shaan again, Henry nodding absently. Alex ended the call and turned towards him. “He’s right, baby. I know this is going to be hard for you. I’m so sorry.”

Resting his forehead gently on Henry’s shoulder, Alex circled his arms around him and squeezed tightly. 

“I couldn’t even stand her, to be honest,” Henry scoffed. 

His head dropped to his hands. A moment later, his shoulders shook with silent sobs. 

Alex held on, encouraging him with everything he could think of.

“Anyone would have been fucking lucky to have you as a grandson. It’s not fair that she never appreciated what she had.”

Henry absorbed Alex’s gentle reassurances in silence, unable to respond at times. Eventually his breathing evened out and the tears stopped coming. 

***

Return of the Jedi did its job, as usual. Henry and Alex settled into bed, laptop between their chests, David between their feet.

When Henry finally drifted off to sleep, Alex closed the laptop quietly, set it aside, and pulled Henry closer.

***

The morning saw Henry waking up blearily with their alarm, blinking awake slowly until he sat up abruptly. The sudden movement jolted Alex, who began grabbing at Henry with his eyes closed, trying to pull him back to bed as usual.

“Love, we’ve got a plane this morning. Remember?”

“Oh. Oh, shit. Yeah.”

The two showered and readied themselves for the flight quickly, methodically, moving around each other in sync, also as usual. Alex occasionally reached out to give Henry an extra touch, but Henry’s face showed no sign of last night’s emotion. 

***

There were several extra things in Henry’s duffel than on his usual flights. Having flown as much as he has–in private planes, no less–he’d gotten quite familiar with the experience, often comfortable enough to simply pass the time with a good book and little need for much else. 

Today, though, was a day for distractions. There were 3 books this time for the seven-hour flight: one of them a worn copy of Sense and Sensibility, one of them the new Casey McQuiston on its second re-read, and the third his own manuscript, ready for its last round of edits in the months prior to first print. Henry’s phone was prepped with his “Safe, Calm” playlist queued up in the background, with the New York Times app ready to go on the home screen, so that he and Alex could race each other in the daily sudoku. The Rubik’s cube and pop-it collection that the public didn’t need to know about was also sitting ready to keep his hands busy. And finally, the most effective distractions that didn’t fit in the duffel bag were seated beside him: Alex and David. 

David didn’t accompany him on many flights anymore, largely because usually Alex was still at home to take care of him when he had to go very far. If they were both away from home, they had a very trusted dogsitter that came to take care of him and the house. But today David had a Very Important Job as emotional support, and he got to come along. 

***

They changed into black suits about 30 minutes before the flight’s descent.

For the same old god-forsaken appearances, the town car pulled to a stop in the front of Buckingham Palace, a walking distance enough from the entrance that the gathered public outside the gates would have many opportunities for clear photos of their arrival. 

Cameras flashed repeatedly, each one an individual lightning strike. 

***

Law & Disorder

Alex

shit i forgot to tell yall id be out of the country again

Alex 

and i have no idea for how long im so sorry could be weeks

April

No worries, Alex, we figured you would be. Best of luck with everything there and send Henry our love. 

Cassie

Yes, hugs to you both! We’re always here if you need a distraction or someone to talk you through stuff!

Selena

💜💜💜

Alex

😭🥰

Alex

henry says thank you 🥰🥰

***

Congregating with the rest of the family in the White Drawing Room at Buckingham where Catherine would sit for her broadcast was an action full of complicated emotions. 

Catherine, Henry’s mother, now Queen of England, was sitting in the same seat Queen Mary had always taken for her Christmas broadcasts, looking more calm and sure of herself than she has in several years.

Philip, now first in line for the throne, displaying real emotion. Greeting Henry and Alex with equal attention and care, expressing gratitude for their presence and offering words of comfort. 

Martha, reaching out for tight hugs for each of them and otherwise keeping a hand on Philip the entire time.

Bea, filing her nails. God, he loved her.

Above all, it was the doors shutting behind them that finally brought a sense of calm relief. It was the presence of only immediate family. (Somewhere on the other side of the wall were production professionals, preparing for the broadcast, unseen and unintrusive). It was Alex pulling him gently into a chair out of frame of the camera, refusing to let him pace, and depositing David into his lap.

Henry breathed.

***

Her Majesty Queen Catherine the Sixth

Royal Communication from Buckingham Palace

Good evening. I speak to you today with feelings of profound sorrow and expectation of great hope. Throughout her life, Her Majesty the Queen–my mother–was an inspiration to many and a significant impact on myself and my family. I know that many people in the United Kingdom and abroad viewed her as an example and a source of guidance.

Queen Mary lived her life with a focus on leading the country in accordance to her most deeply held values, and members of the nation mourn for her loss. 

Today, I create a new promise to do the same: lead this nation in accordance with renewed goals, rejuvenated goals, and enlightened values.

Queen Mary’s dedication and focus to her ideals as sovereign did not falter through times of grief, sorrow, and loss. I reassure you now that I will maintain that same dedication and focus to my ideals as sovereign, leading us towards times of change and progress. 

I recognize my mother’s memory and life of leading this nation. I know that her death brings great sadness to so many of you. My family and I share large emotions today, and we are here with you as a union.

As the Queen herself did with rigid passion, I now solemnly pledge myself to uphold the constitutional principles, the ever-changing ideals, and the future-facing outlook of the United Kingdom. As we mourn a former era, I also know that we as a nation look forward, and expect new beginnings, strength, and unity.

***

From the desk of His Royal Highness Prince Philip of Wales

I compose this message on behalf of myself, and myself alone. I am reaching out to the people of the United Kingdom to address and atone for past transgressions. It’s time that I admit that I was wrong, and that I offer my most sincere apologies. 

While I may never be able to fully atone for the harm that I’ve caused, I am intent on doing everything in my power to make steps towards righting my wrongs for the sake of my immediate family and of the nation as a whole. 

In recent years it became known, through no fault of his own, that I’ve forced harmful words and ideals onto my brother, his partner, and by extension, the whole of the nation that counted on me to love them and protect them. I let down the people of Britain, and most devastating of all, I let down my brother.

I write to you today to express in simple words a very complicated matter, which is this: I am so deeply sorry. It was wrong of me to expect and to attempt to force change on others. It was wrong of me to reject anyone at any time based on sexual orientation, gender identity, or any other part of their identity, for any reason. 

I know that my mother, Queen Catherine, is in full and vocal support of my brother, his partner Alex, and all members of the LGBTQIA+ community in Britain and abroad. I take this moment now to reassure you that I am as well.

I know that sharing this statement is simply one small step in the right direction, and that there is a lot more that I can and will continue to do. I will be working on making amends with my siblings, if they will have me. I will be working to actively participate in aid for LGBTQIA+ community needs, including legal rights and protections. I will be continuing to seek my own education on this topic. And I hope to lead by example for others who are ready to recognise the changes that they need to make towards their own understanding and support of this community.

***

Philip handed his handwritten message to the public to Henry two days before their scheduled flight back to New York and five days before he planned to share it with the media.

“I almost waited,” he admitted. “I wanted to give this to you right before your flight, so that you could read it and process it away from me, on your own time. But then I realized I was being cowardly again; if you read it so far from me, I’d be spared your reaction, whatever it might be. And frankly that’s not in accordance with the new values I’m working towards. So.”

He held the document out with an only slightly shaky hand, silently urging Henry to take it. 

“Please read it, if you feel up to it. And then whatever you have to say to me in response, I’m here to accept it. I do hope to release it to the public in a few days.”

Henry took it silently, raising his eyebrow in question at Philip. “Okay, I’ll–” he scanned the first few lines, intending to get a sense of what he was about to read before he brought Alex to his private rooms in order to read it away from Philip and then prepare his response before he gave it, but words like “transgressions” and “atone” caught his eye and he was frozen. In the end, Henry read the entirety of the letter quickly, right there in front of Philip. He gripped it tightly, reading it a second time, a third time, to make sense of what he was seeing. Alex read over his shoulder, his own grip on Henry’s waist strengthening as he did so. Silence lingered until eventually Henry and Alex shared a look, agreement and understanding passing between them. Henry gave the letter to Bea to read and stepped forward towards Philip, who looked immediately more concerned. He didn’t protest, however, when Henry pulled him into a hug, the first they’d shared in years.

***

Chapter Text

***

They were all sprawled around the sitting room of Henry’s Kensington apartments in the aftermath of the funeral. Henry sat at the end of the longest couch, feet propped up on an ottoman, hands on his boyfriend. Alex made himself comfortable laying across the couch, his head in Henry’s lap, their joined hands resting across his chest. His attention was split between the group around them and his Twitter feed. Bea sat on a cushion on the floor in front of them, flipping through a novel. Philip and Martha took the loveseat next to the couch, sitting primly but comfortably. The group of them chatted casually as they watched British Bake Off, everyone in the room naturally preferring to focus on trivial baking errors (“how can you not see that that meringue isn’t ready!?”) over the running news cycle. 

Every once in a while, Alex would laugh at something on his Twitter feed and share with the group. 

“The Daily Mail thinks we’ve broken up again.”

“Of course they do,” Henry responded absently, fingers still delicately combing through Alex’s curls.

Alex giggled, tilting his head back to look up at Henry. “I responded to them.”

“Of course you did,” he rolled his eyes, pulling out his own phone to check. “Ah, I see you are also fantasizing about a breakup.”

In his periphery, Philip turned toward him, eyebrows shooting up. Bea rolled her eyes at him. 

“It’s the only way to get the full effect of TTPD, I guarantee.”

“Alright, alright, let me appease your followers and play along,” Henry said, taking his other hand back from Alex’s grip and typing from his own Twitter account. “Will you be sitting up to further deprive yourself of my affection?”

Alex hummed. “Nope,” he responded cheerfully, already reaching back to grab Henry’s hand again as soon as he’s done typing.

Bea scoffed from her seat in front of them. “Couldn’t even last a minute,” she laughed, reaching for her own phone to inform the masses. 

***

It was a long flight. It was a long couple of weeks, really. A long funeral and a very public mourning process. And they’re not even finished with the entire situation yet; it’ll be months until the coronation. 

Back in their brownstone, dragging their feet up the stairs to force themselves to at least get the suitcases to the closet, Henry and Alex tiredly changed into more comfortable clothes. David darted around the house, excitedly reacquainting himself with all his favorite spots nose-first. 

Eventually, Henry and Alex followed him back downstairs, each of them down to undergarments: Henry in a soft t-shirt and boxer shorts, Alex only in a pair of loose sweatpants. They only had enough energy remaining to grab the ice cream, a couple of spoons, and flop onto the couch among the blankets. David was already snoring in his favorite bed in the corner by the time they pulled up Bake Off. 

Fortunately, they had made arrangements to arrive back at home on a Thursday, planning to take the entire weekend to recuperate from the trip before getting back into their regular routines. 

After an uncharacteristic 11 hours of sleep, Friday afternoon was welcomed slowly. Warm sun gradually sprawled across their bedroom. Alex’s hand slipped leisurely from its position on Henry’s chest down into his shorts. Pastries were ordered from a warm bath. 

The rest of the afternoon was just as pleasant, though less gentle. Six of eight members of a private Discord channel bickered over each other on a voice call, shouting instructions and sharing tips for collecting wood, skipping raccoon announcements, and where to find the best fish. Alex was playing Animal Crossing for the first time, and Henry was enjoying every second of watching his ever-present intensity fail to waiver even in the face of cartoon animals building happy island lives. 

***

“Bruh.”

“Alex, I love you dearly, but if you ever call me ‘bruh’ again, I’m divorcing you.”

“Okay yeah but when I tell you what I just read you’re literally going to say the same thing.”

Henry squinted at Alex’s screen, reading the recent Daily Mail tweet suggesting that the two of them were already secretly married. 

“Bruh.”

“Right?!”

***

Pez

Henry, beloved!

Pez

Our little shining star, living his best life with his beautiful strumpet!

Pez

Dearest Hazza, keeper of my heart, of all our hearts!

✨💕Hazza💕✨

Yes, Percy?

Pez

Henry my dear friend if you do not respond to me appropriately I will add the hearts and sparkles back to your contact information.

✨💕Hazza💕✨

I don’t believe for a moment you ever got rid of them.

✨💕Hazza💕✨

…Auntie Pezza.

Pez

That’s better! And don’t forget I can smell that you’ve changed my contact info again. Change it back or I won’t share the big news.

✨💕Hazza💕✨

I really don’t know how you do that. What’s the news?

Auntie Pezza

I’m on my way to your office with lunch, clear your schedule!

Henry shook his head fondly and set his phone down, resuming his focus on his emails. It wasn’t long before his door swung open and Pez was sweeping into a chair opposite him. 

“Hello, Per–”

“Henry, darling, are you sitting down?”

Henry slowly, pointedly, turned his gaze downward to the chair he was in at the moment, and then, just as slowly, returned his attention to where Pez was seated across from him. 

“Why, yes, it appears that I am,” he responded with exasperation, an eyebrow raised.

“Okay, I have some news.” He set a couple of containers of sandwiches on Henry’s desk. “You know me, I can’t let something intriguing just go, so I looked into that anonymous donation we got a while back.”

“The 8 million pound one?” Henry asked absently, attention turned towards unwrapping his lunch. “You’ve found out who it was, then?”

Pez sat forward and met Henry’s eyes seriously. “The money was transferred from Philip’s private accounts.”

Henry sat still, reeling. “Philip.”

“Yes.”

“My brother, Philip.”

“He did make this grand declaration of change, didn’t he? Is it so surprising?”

“I mean…” Henry considered, lost for words. “Wasn’t this donation quite a while before all this?”

“I guess he’s been working on this for a while.”

“Prince Philip,” Henry repeated absently. “Of Wales.”

“The one and only.”

Henry’s mind was a flat dial tone. Percy’s right, really, it shouldn’t be all that surprising. How many people could have 8 million spare pounds liquidated into an anonymous cash donation? Why would someone make a donation of that size to an organization without accepting any accolades? However, Henry’s logical understanding of the reality of the situation still failed to overpower the shock. 

“I…need a minute.” 

“Of course, dear,” Pez said gently, reaching over to finish unwrapping the sandwiches. His patience knew no bounds when it came to Henry. When he was ready to process, he’d be there. In the meantime, he politely looked away while Henry wiped at his eyes and drafted a text to his brother. 

***

Alex was dancing in front of the stove, using a wooden spoon as a microphone to sing along to Selena Quintanilla, occasionally pausing to stir the beans. 

Henry held his tongue a moment, content to lean against the doorway and watch his boyfriend. 

Several moments later, Alex twirled around and spotted Henry, immediately yelping and inadvertently tossing the spoon across the room. 

“Oh my god I didn’t even hear you come in!” Alex exclaimed, grabbing paper towels in a rush and dabbing at the sauce on Henry’s chest. 

Chuckling, Henry’s hands gently enveloped Alex’s wrists, stopping his movement. 

“Don’t worry about the shirt, love.”

“But it’ll stain!” 

“I have others. More importantly, I have news.”

“Oh?” Finally turning his full attention on Henry’s face, Alex broke into a wide smile when he saw Henry’s barely concealed excitement. 

“Shaan connected me to Paul Hollywood today.”

“Oh my god, WHAT?!”

“Apparently he wants me to appear on an episode of Bake Off this season.”

Alex burst into motion again. “YES!” he shouted, tossing his arms around Henry’s shoulders. 

“There’s more. Apparently they’d like to do an episode specifically to focus on contribution to cancer research, so they’ve shared with me the theme of that week and asked if I’d like to participate as a baker.”

“That’s fucking awesome, baby,” Alex pulled back from the hug and pulled a new spoon out of the drawer. “You’re going to say yes, right?”

“I’m thinking about it.”

“Henry.”

Henry laughed. He’d never seen someone look so exasperated while stirring beans. 

“No, of course I’ll go, I’m just quite nervous to bake in front of an audience. I still feel so new to it and I’m worried the extra pressure will make me mess up.”

“You said it yourself–everything in that tent is all soft colors and music and biscuits and nice words. I know they’ll make you feel right at home.”

Henry wrapped his arms around Alex’s waist from behind, resting his chin on his shoulder. “Come with me?”

“Wouldn't miss it, baby.”

***