Chapter Text
He didn’t recognize the man staring back at him through the mirror. It couldn’t be Henry. It was a version of him, of course, with the same blue eyes, the same blond hair and the same aristocratic features. But the stranger’s eyes in the mirror lacked brightness, the strands of golden hair had been tamed by gel and a brush, and the features that once made him stand out from the crowd now seemed so… average.
Because that was what he was. That was what he had allowed his grandmother to turn him into. What he had agreed to become. Average.
“You look so handsome,” he heard Mary’s voice behind him, followed by the sound of her shoes against the marble floor, and he felt her hands on his arms just as her face appeared beside his in the mirror. “I knew you’d look absolutely charming in your groom’s suit.”
Henry stared at her. Blue meeting blue.
He and his siblings had inherited Catherine’s eyes, their mother, and she in turn had inherited them from Mary. But Henry had always believed that none of them — not even Philip — looked at people the way his grandmother did. In that moment, however, their eyes looked identical. Empty of any human warmth.
“The car is waiting for us,” she informed him when Henry did nothing but keep staring at her. “We must leave for the church now.”
He finally looked away, focused on fixing his bow tie, and moved to smooth down the jacket of his suit, but Mary’s hand caught his wrist to stop him.
“You must be careful, it’s a white suit, we don’t want to ruin it.”
“If you didn’t want to risk me ruining it, I’m not sure why you insisted so much that it had to be white.”
“People get married in white, Henry,” he muttered Mary’s words under his breath at the same time she spoke them aloud. They had had that conversation thousands of times.
“Gran…”
“Let’s go now, I don’t even want to imagine what the guests will say if we arrive late,” she cut him off as she turned around fully intending to leave the room.
‘What the guests will say.’ That had been one of the main rules in their household. Reputation played a fundamental role in every decision made. God forbid their family became the subject of gossip.
“We cannot allow you to make a bad impression on your in-laws before the wedding. You cannot disrespect them that way…”
“I think I’ve disrespected them enough already, don’t you think?”
Mary froze at his words.
“I spent my entire engagement dating someone else,” he continued. Henry was angry at both of them, and although he had already accepted his fate and made his peace with it, he wanted to let out that rage before walking towards it.
His fiancée did not deserve to marry a resentful man.
Henry had already taken it out on himself by forcing himself to walk away from the person he truly loved before it was time. Nothing had ever hurt as much as that, and Henry was certain he deserved it. But Mary would also have to suffer a little. He couldn’t let her get away with it so easily. Yes, of course she had won: Henry, just like Phillip, would marry the girl she had chosen for him. But Henry would make sure it was a victory that tasted like defeat.
“Cheaters do not deserve to marry in white,” he stepped closer to Mary. “Imagine what everyone would say if they found out that I…”
“That’s enough, Henry!” Mary snapped, spinning around abruptly to face him. “What’s done is done, there’s no reason to keep talking about it.”
“You love pointing out your family’s mistakes, I don’t understand why it bothers you so much when someone else wants to do the same,” he wasn’t going to drop the subject; they still had time to hurt each other a little more. “That’s a bit self-centred of you, Gran.”
“We’re only wasting time,” she replied. “Everyone has affairs, so what? That’s nothing new. I allowed you to have one before getting married, but you knew you had responsibilities and that you must fulfil your duty. So that’s enough.”
“It wasn’t an affair, Gran, I am truly in love with him.”
“He is a man, Henry! A man, for God’s sake!” She gripped his arms with such force he could feel her nails through the fabric; his grandmother’s eyes, empty most of the time, now had the dangerous glimmer of rage. “One thing is that I accepted your… perverse deviations, but it’s quite another for me to allow the world to know about them.”
‘Perverse deviations.’
“Is that how you see me, Gran? As a deviant?”
Mary’s expression did not flinch.
“In an ideal world, a woman should not blind herself to the reality of her own offspring,” she replied instead. “Your mother is weak, Phillip is a compliant fool, Beatrice an addict, and you… you, Henry, you are the way you are. Even the finest families have such people among them. But your mother, your siblings and you are healthy and beautiful, and you are my family. Nothing else matters.”
Mary let go of him and smoothed his suit where her grip had wrinkled it. Henry’s gaze drifted into emptiness, fixed on a point between his shoulder and the door.
‘You are the way you are.’
But what was he? A deviant or a coward?
Neither felt right, and as much as he despised himself in that moment, he could not identify with either.
‘You can’t be serious, Hen, come on. You’re not still thinking you’re going to get married, right? You can’t do it, not after you said the big L-word… don’t be a coward, man.’
“You said you would do anything for your family,” Henry, who had closed his eyes the moment his mind sank into the memory of that hypnotising voice, snapped them open when Mary’s voice dragged him back to reality. The rage in hers had been replaced by that false softness she used to persuade everyone into doing what she wanted. “You said that…”
“I’m in love with him, Gran.”
Mary nodded, cupping his cheek with a cold hand.
“I know you are, but you said you would do whatever it took for the family’s wellbeing,” and despite everything, Henry couldn’t help leaning into his grandmother’s touch. He had grown up wishing he could one day feel that the love she claimed to have for them was real. “I know you, Henry, and I know you can achieve anything. I know you’ll grow fond of her, I know you will. She’ll be your wife and you’ll have beautiful children, and you’ll fall hopelessly in love with the life you now think you don’t want. You will love them, your wife and your children, even more than you love that man.”
Henry was twenty-five, and he believed he had been in love twice before; of course he wasn’t an expert, no one could be an expert in something as versatile as love. But he was certain that this time, the third time he had fallen in love with someone, would be the last. He would never be able to love another person in the same way. He was sure he simply would not be capable.
Mary didn’t allow the conversation to continue; she practically dragged him out of the room, hurried him down the stairs, and made sure that after pushing him inside the car that would take them to the church, Henry ended up seated between her and his sister. As if Henry were about to escape at a red light or something like that.
Had he thought about running away? Of course. Had he been asked to? Certainly. Had he agreed? Almost. But he couldn’t do that to his fiancée. He had already humiliated that poor innocent girl enough. Would he regret it for the rest of his life? That was a fact, but he deserved it. Perhaps, after all, he had been right.
Perhaps he really was a coward.
The ride to the church was silent and uneventful. They arrived on time much to his grandmother’s delight. Henry was distracted enough watching some of the guests and his mother stepping out of her own car with his brother and sister-in-law that he almost didn’t notice the southern drawl with which the driver asked Bea to be careful as he held the door open for her.
It was only then that Henry realised there weren’t just one but two men in the front of the car: the one who had driven and the one helping open the other door. The owner of the southern drawl — one that sounded quite familiar, by the way — rushed to close the door as soon as his sister stepped out, and the other, surprisingly elegant for a chauffeur — no offence, but Henry was sure he had seen that sharp jawline before — mirrored him, nearly slamming the door shut once his grandmother stood on the pavement. Henry frowned; he was the groom, he didn’t understand why they had decided to leave him inside a running car…
The next few seconds were so quick and chaotic that Henry barely had time to react. Screeching tyres against the asphalt, the driver’s door slamming shut, his grandmother’s hysterical screams. The sudden speed with which whoever had decided to steal the car drove off made Henry crash against the back seat; as soon as he recovered, he dared to look through the rear window and saw the rapidly shrinking image of his family, the guests who had witnessed the theft, and the two chauffeurs.
Remembering that he was inside a car that had just been stolen, he whipped around to see the thief and, to his shock, the eyes meeting his through the rear-view mirror did not belong to a stranger but to a pair of bright brown eyes Henry could recognise anywhere.
“Alex?!”
“Hi, baby.”
“What the hell is wrong with you?! Stop the car!”
“I’m not stopping, Hen,” Alex accelerated to prove his point, and Henry had to clutch the door to steady himself.
Henry didn’t even know why he was so surprised. He knew Alex, he should have known Alex wouldn’t sit idly by, not even after the fight they’d had the last time they saw each other. And Henry believed him; he was sure Alex wouldn’t stop the car until they reached wherever he planned to take him.
He slid across the seat as best he could toward one of the rear doors to try to open it, intending to give Alex the illusion that he might jump out and that upon seeing him so determined, Alex would slow down, giving Henry the chance to actually jump when it wasn’t as dangerous. Alex would stop to make sure he was okay, and then they could talk, Henry would convince him to go back and then… then.
He pulled the handle to open it, but it didn’t budge. He tried the other door, same result. He looked for Alex in the mirror, finding him already watching him.
“Child safety lock,” Alex explained with a smug little grin. “Those doors ain’t gonna open, sunshine.”
Henry grabbed the headrest of Alex’s seat, pulling himself forward to shout in his ear.
“I cannot believe you’re doing this! Let me out right now!”
“No!” Alex winced, but kept driving as if nothing were happening. Much to Henry’s frustration, Alex was not only stubborn, he was also a good driver.
“I need to get back to the bloody church! Can’t you see that?!”
“All I see is that you’re not getting married,” without thinking twice, Henry covered Alex’s eyes with his hands, forcing Alex to let go of the wheel to shove him off. “What the hell, Hen?!”
“You’re insane, Alexander!”
“You’re crazier than me! You were gonna marry a woman!” Alex shouted back.
“That’s none of your business.”
“Well, this kidnapping sure as hell is my business.”
Henry launched himself forward, grabbing the wheel alongside Alex to yank it. Alex would have to stop, seeing Henry wasn’t backing down, he would have to slow down or some police officer would pull them over. But once again, Alex only accelerated.
“Cut it out, Hen! We’re gonna crash!”
“I don’t care! You’re a menace, Alexander Gabriel!”
“Oh, yeah? Well I wasn’t the one who fell in love with me!”
Henry, who despite his fury and disbelief did not truly want them to die, finally released the wheel and collapsed backward onto the seat. Trying to force Alex to stop the car had failed; he needed a new plan. Hoping to attract another driver’s attention, he stuck his head out the window… and felt all hope crumble when he realised they were no longer on the main road, but on what looked like a path leading into the woods. Suddenly, he knew exactly where they were headed.
“Turn back, Alex. Now.”
“Not a chance, Hen,” Alex looked at him through the mirror. “I told you, baby, I told you you weren’t getting married. And you’re not!”
He had a point. He had said it, but Henry had attributed his threats to the pain and anger of the breakup. It had never occurred to him that Alex would actually convince his friends to pose as the chauffeurs meant to take him to the church, lock him inside the car, steal it, and drive them to his father’s lake house. The same lake house where they used to spend weekends together, the one no one else knew about.
No one except Alex’s family, of course. Henry doubted any of them knew Alex was spending his Saturday morning kidnapping his ex-boyfriend from the church where he was supposed to get married.
“I find it hard to believe that Liam and Spencer went along with this, Alex, you’re unbelievable,” he spat with disdain.
“Well, believe it, ’cause we’re not done yet,” Alex ran a hand through his brown curls. “You know me better than anyone. Did you really think I’d let you go that easily? I love you, Henry, you hear me? I love you. I’d do this and more for you.”
Henry felt his chest tighten, his eyes burning with the sudden sting of tears threatening to spill. He wanted so badly to say it back, to assure him he wasn’t alone in that feeling and never would be. But he couldn’t let himself say it, because if he did, he wouldn’t be able to force himself to leave Alex again. And he had responsibilities, he was a Mountchristen-Windsor, and he… he had to…
“You don’t kidnap someone you love, Alex,” he forced himself to say instead, clearing his throat. “That isn’t love.”
“It is love, Henry! Look what I’m going through. If this isn’t love, then I don’t know what is.”
The house and the lake appeared in front of them. After parking on the gravel path, Alex stepped out of the car and before Henry could even think of grabbing the keys to drive back to the city, he watched Alex throw them toward the lake. When Alex opened the door for him, the look on Henry’s face was pure disbelief.
“Alexander…”
“No. You said enough that day, it’s my turn,” he cut him off. “I’m not some crazy motherfucker, okay? I know what I did wasn’t right, but I love you, Hen. I love you, you stubborn son of a bitch. And it’s not some sick kind of love, you know it’s not. I had to do it because there was literally no other way to get you to end the engagement.”
Henry allowed Alex to step close. One of Alex’s hands grabbed his waist, pulling him against him, while the other cupped his cheek, warm and familiar. Soon Henry was surrounded by nothing but Alex: the feel of his cheek pressed to his, his nose brushing his temple, his breath ghosting over his skin, the scent of his cologne and that essence that was simply Alex.
Alex. Alex. Alex.
Henry couldn’t help it, he inhaled sharply, exhaling in a quiet gasp, clinging to the strong body holding him as if Alex was afraid Henry might vanish the moment he let go. His hands gripped Alex’s shoulders.
“Your grandmother has brainwashed you so many times you’re willing to give up your own happiness just to bow to her manipulation in the name of ‘doing it for the family’ and avoiding people’s judgement. But you don’t realise that’s only going to hurt you more,” Alex continued, his voice wrapping around Henry like silk, his own personal siren song. “I know a thing or two about that, about being afraid of scrutiny. You know I do. But if I could break out of that spell, then so can you.”
Henry made a small, desperate sound when Alex pulled back enough to look him in the eyes.
“I’ve given in my whole life, I’ve let go of so much, but I’m not letting go of you,” Alex stroked his cheek with his thumb. “Do you understand, Hen? Not you. Never you. They’ll have to pry you from my cold, dead hands.”
‘Fuck it,’ Henry thought and he closed the distance between them. Alex melted instantly into the kiss, pressing himself against him, both of them moaning the moment one of them parted his lips to let in the other’s tongue. They stumbled their way inside the house, separating only long enough for Alex to unlock the door, then continued down the hallway, stopping every few steps to pin each other against the wall and devour each other’s mouths.
Eventually they had to part when their lungs burned for air. Alex rested his forehead against Henry’s, breathing against his mouth.
“I love you, Hen,” he panted. “Say it back, you bastard.”
Henry nodded frantically. “I love you, I love you. Of course I love you.”
Alex let out a shaky, wet little laugh, and when he pulled back a bit more, Henry noticed his eyes were full of tears. Soon, Henry’s own eyes matched his.
“Tell me you’re mine. Tell me I finally have you,” beneath the possessiveness in his voice, Henry could clearly hear the plea, the desperate need for reassurance.
“I’m yours, you have me,” he promised, taking Alex’s face in his hands, looking him straight in the eyes so he would know his words were true. “I am so sorry, my love, I’m sorry for hurting you through all of this. If you’ll have me, I swear I’ll do everything I can to make it up to you.”
Alex shook his head.
“There’s nothing to forgive, sweetheart. Just… just promise me we’re never gonna be apart again.”
“Over my dead body. They’ll have to pry you from my cold, dead hands,” Henry repeated his earlier words before pulling him into a slow kiss that quickly turned urgent.
Alex pulled away again to start taking off his clothes, pointing at Henry’s suit after dropping his leather jacket to the floor.
“Take that damn suit off.”
Henry’s mind emptied of every worry, there was no turning back. His family would come looking for him, Alex’s family would look for Alex as soon as they noticed his absence, but it would take them some time to figure out where they were. If they ever did, in Henry’s family’s case. But in that moment, while he ripped the buttons off his shirt in a desperate attempt to remove it, nothing mattered except feeling Alex’s warmth pressed against his own.
The world could fall apart outside, but they’d deal with it later.