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W.W.A.D?

Summary:

Alex and Henry's meeting at Rio starts the same but ends differently. How will being in each other's lives from the day they meet change things?

Chapter 1

Notes:

After a bit of a hiatus, I'm starting a new story! Similar to my other story, this started with a "what if?". But this one is going to be a lot heavier on the joy and lighter on the angst (although there will still be highs and lows, as I have to keep things interesting!).

I have not finished writing the story, but it is completely mapped out and is going to be another long one (so buckle up kiddos!). I will be trying to post at least once every two weeks, ideally weekly but life-ing has been a lot lately, so I'm managing expectations.

Upfront Notes:
1. Apologies, I don’t have a beta. If there are mistakes, let me know as if I can improve things I want to!
2. Read the additional warnings in the notes. I really don’t want this to be triggering for anyone and if there are brief mentions of anything triggering, I will be careful to call them out.
3. Henry are Alex are movie heights. I watched the movie first so TZP lives rent free in my head and he will always be Alex to me. I try to avoid mentioning height because of this (as I know some people object to movie height references) Other than that, I'm exclusive on following book cannon.

TRIGGER WARNINGS FOR THIS CHAPTER
Description of panic attack

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

August 2016

Alex finished his first glass of caipirinhas for the day – while the sports and energy of the Olympics were great, the fact that he was legally able to drink and no one seemed to care was by far the highlight of this trip so far. He was standing at the front of the VIP section, watching the men’s diving semifinal. America had a good chance of a medal and it was a fun sport to watch. He was finding himself hypnotized by the divers – every muscle flexing as they did impossible acrobatics into the water. His mind drifted to Liam and the previous fall… Alex shook his head, stopping that train of thought from continuing. These athletes, in peak human form, were objectively hot. Nothing he needed to think more about.

Probably time to refill his caipirinhas glass. As he was about to turn away and go back towards the bar, a teenage girl caught his attention. She was decked out in Mexico gear and was waving at him while she called out his name. He leaned over the barrier and smiled widely at her. While the distance was too far to actually chat, he suddenly saw her fling a small bundle of ipê-amarelo flowers at him – his reflexes from years of lacrosse kicked in and he easily caught it. Smiling at the girl he mouthed “gracias” and carried the flowers with him, shoving them in his pocket as he headed towards the bar. He sometimes forgot that in a way he was representing two countries – while he was an American (specifically a Texan-American) through and through, Mexico would always have a piece of his heart and he knew his family’s place on the world stage was important to those in his father’s homeland.

Before he could get to the bar, he felt a distinct pinch to his ass. Swivelling his head in shock he found Nora with a shit-eater grin on her face, standing by his sister who was smirking with her eyebrows raised.

“Did you seriously just get flowers thrown at you?” June questioned – sounding both exasperated and amused. She couldn’t quite get over that her brother had become a “heartthrob” in the last 6 months – while he relished in it, June was more exasperated by the attention teenage girls and, concerningly, some adult women closer to their mother’s age then Alex’s 18, seemed to increasingly lavish on her little brother.

“Well, he does have an ass you can bounce a coin off… Not that I will ever do that again…” Nora chuckled – making Alex grin and June roll her eyes. Nora and Alex had hooked up for a few weeks during some of the early primary campaigning – it was over by Super Tuesday when they realized they liked to talk and laugh more together than actually have sex. Their chemistry was distinctly of the best-friend variety and they were glad they realized it before the relationship had gotten at all serious. What they regretted was how openly affectionate they had been during those few weeks – the press was still running with the idea that they were together, despite their best efforts to correct that assumption. It was a crash course in PR as direct relatives of the (most-likely) future president and vice-president, and a mistake neither would ever make again.

Alex was still smiling when a shock of blond hair in his periphery caught his eye. He swiveled his head and took in a sudden breath – surprised at who had appeared in the VIP area. Prince fucking Henry. His brain flashed back to an image from one of June’s old J14 magazines…

“Speaking of asses you can bounce a coin off…” Nora’s voice snapped Alex out of his trance and he turned towards his friend. “Not that I’ll ever get a chance to test a coin on that ass…”

“You never know, Nora – this could be your fairytale moment,” Alex said, smiling and waggling his eyebrows.

“I’m pretty sure I’m not his type,” Nora smirked.

“You really think he is the English rose or nothing type?” June said, scrunching her nose – she never liked acknowledging that in 2016 there was still a large portion of the elite that wanted the elite to remain very, very white.

“Not exactly, but we can go with that.” Nora said quietly and looked at Alex like she was contemplating something, then shook her head. She glanced at the pool and a big, over-the-top smile appeared on her face. “Well, I don’t know about you, but I say we grab another batch of caipirinhas and cheer on some hot divers. Maybe one of them will let me use some of the spare change in my pocket…”

Nora headed towards the bar but June hung back, touching her brother’s arm to stop him from following Nora. “Hey, you should introduce yourself to the prince.”

“What?”

“I mean, isn’t he about your age? Assuming everything goes as expected in November, there are going to be very few people that know what it’s like to have your life.”

“I’ll have you and Nora, Bug. I don’t think I need anyone else.”

“I’m just saying, it wouldn’t hurt to expand your horizons beyond us if you have the chance,” June said, smiling softly before turning around and going to help Nora, who was navigating back to them with three very full cups in her hands.

“Maybe…” Alex mumbled, looking over his shoulder as he walked to join Nora and June as they made their way to the front of the section.

※※※

An hour later, Alex was laughing with June and Nora, taking selfies and trying to be engaged with the competition in front of him, but only half is mind was on his friends and watching the (objectively hot) divers. The other half of his mind was on the back of the VIP section, where Prince Henry had been camped out in a corner since arriving. Tom Daley, Great Britain’s star diver, just bombed – dropping from the top spot in the preliminary to the bottom spot in the semifinal. Alex realized if he wanted to introduce himself, it was probably now or never. The prince would likely be disappearing shortly with their man out of the competition.

Alex took a breath and mumbled that he’d be back in a minute – walking away from June and Nora without any real explanation.

As Alex approached Henry, he felt the nerves in the pit of his stomach. Why was this so scary? He met people all the time, he loved meeting new people. Small talk and charming people had always come naturally to him – he is a talker and an extrovert, and his people skills have only been honed since he began campaigning for his mother the previous year. This should have been easy, but as he got closer to the prince, he was finding that he needed to control his breathing as his body seemed to be trying very hard to stop itself from breathing.

As he stepped in front of the prince, he plastered his best smile on his face (the one the PR team has coached him on that includes “smizing” and somehow made his dimple pop). He made eye contact with the prince and for a moment he forgot how to speak – looking directly into the bluest eyes he had ever seen was making his body do that annoying not breathing thing again.

“Yes, may we help you?” A sharp voice, decidedly not from Prince Henry but from the tall, Indian man beside him said. Henry just looked at him, his eyes slightly widening but his face not showing any reaction beyond that. The Indian man’s question was enough to remind Alex’s body to do the breathing thing again.

“Uh, hi, sorry, hi Your Highness… I just wanted to introduce myself. I’m Alexander Claremont-Diaz, son of hopefully soon-to-be president-elect Ellen Claremont. I just figured we might be crossing paths in the future, and figured I would say what’s up…” Alex is rambling, and rambling in a way that would likely make Zahra strangle him, but half his brain is lost in blue eyes, and apparently the remaining half has decided to be a dumb jock.

Prince Henry blinked blankly and leaned over to the Indian man, whispering just loudly enough that Alex can hear “Can you get rid of him?”

Alex’s heart joined everything else in the pit of his stomach and he was pretty certain he had gone scarlet red.

With a sigh, the Indian man started speaking again, “Well, thank you Mr. Claremont-Diaz for coming over. I’m afraid His Royal Highness has to get to another competition, but it has been a pleasure meeting you. Another time perhaps?” And with that, the man ushered Prince Henry away, with his security team following in a tight circle around him.

Alex just stood there mortified for several minutes. All he can focus on is the absolute shame and embarrassment he just experienced. And then, instead of mortification he felt nausea. The pit in the bottom of his stomach (which contained more than a few caipirinhas and not much else) decided to start rising and he realized he needed to find a bathroom or the backside of the venue ASAP. Rushing out, the same way the prince just exited, Alex weaved around corner after corner until there was an exit sign. Pushing through the door, he barely made it around another bend of the building before he bent over with a loud retch but somehow the contents of his stomach didn’t appear. Standing upright, Alex leaned against the building, keeping his eyes closed as he raised is head and tried to take some more breaths.

That may have been one of the worst moments of his life. Definitely the most mortifying. That asshole!

“Are you quite done?” Says a distinctly posh, British voice.

Alex’s eyes snapped open and he was face-to-face with the blue eyes again. Right, so the most mortifying moment of his life has already been usurped by the current moment. Awesome.

“I said, are you quite done?” Henry posed the question again more forcefully, snapping Alex out of his stupor. Looking at the other boy, Alex realized the situation didn’t quite make sense. First, Henry’s security didn’t tackle him, which they really should have. He shouldn’t be standing here alone while Alex is retching in front of him. Second, his perfectly blue eyes aren’t quite perfect. They are red tinged and puffy. As Alex’s head clears and he takes in more of the boy in front of him, he notices the wetness on his cheeks… Prince Henry has been crying. What in the actual fuck?

“Yes, ah, yeah, done with the retching, I think… I hope… Fuck… I mean, sorry… Shit… But, like, are you alright?”

Notes:

Let me know what you think of Chapter 1 (and I'm not sorry at all about the cliffhanger!)

Chapter 2

Notes:

Thank-you for everyone who gave kudos and comments for the start of this story - much appreciated! Of course as soon as I posted, life said 'hold my beer' and gave me the most hectic two weeks I've had in a long time (good things, just a lot at once) - but I'm making writing this story as much of a priority as I can and hope you continue to enjoy. (I would love to hear what you think!)

TRIGGER WARNINGS FOR THIS CHAPTER
Description of panic attack

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

Henry sat in the car, staring out the window blankly. Less than 48 hours of this torture to go. It had been endless days of smiling, shaking hands, and cheering on a bunch of sports he really could give a toss about. It was exhausting pretending to care about any of this and he really just wanted it to be over. He was counting down the minutes until the flight home… well the flight back to London as the word home left a bad taste in his mouth…

Even in the brief moments he had started to enjoy the Olympics, someone would ruin it. With every photo op, VIP section or reception he attended, at least one person brought up his father, asked how his family was doing and how happy they were to see him finding enjoyment again. Like they knew him, knew his family, knew his dad. Like it was their bloody business. And every conversation cut to the quick because it reminded him that he was decidedly not okay and that his family was a complete disaster.

Henry hadn’t had more than a two-sentence conversation with his mother or sister in months – his mother holed up in her rooms at Clarence House, barely leaving unless absolutely necessary. His sister Bea was the exact opposite – never coming home unless absolutely necessary. And when she did come home, he barely recognized her. In contrast, his brother Philip would not leave him alone, even an ocean away where he was stationed with the RAF. Forcing him to attend events, “do his duty” and “represent the family”. His brother had always been a bit of a tosser, but he had elevated himself to being a complete prick in the last year. Treating Henry like an indentured servant to the crown, with no interest in knowing what he thought, wanted, or felt. And then there was his grandmother, who only talked to him when absolutely necessary, preferring messages (orders) to go through Shaan or Philip unless it was a threat.

But only 48 hours to go, and then he would be able to take a breath. At least a little one. He was starting at Oxford when he returned; he would be away from the darkness that enveloped Clarence House and his family and would be given some respite from his duties to the crown. He hoped. That is what he was told. However, he didn’t quite trust that he would be given the peace his siblings had been given while studying. His grandmother seemed to like his siblings (or at least she used to like Bea…), where he had no illusions what she thought of him or how she used duties to punish him every time she got a whisper he might be stepping even slightly out of line.

“Sir, we are almost at the next venue,” Shaan said as he passed Henry a small comb so he could refresh his hair. Henry just looked at him blankly, grabbing the brush and running it through his hair without bothering to look in the mirror before tossing it on the seat.

“We will be attending the semi-final men’s diving now. I think you might quite enjoy it. We are expected to be a lock-in for a metal, so we will also be attending the finals later this afternoon.”

Henry just raised his eyebrows and looked out the window, not acknowledged what he knew Shaan was implying but appreciating the choice. At least he could be miserable while looking at something attractive.

Shaan carried on, clearly not expecting a reaction from his sullen ward. “And I’ve got a surprise for you this evening. I obtained you seats for the men’s football final this evening.”

Henry snapped his head to finally looking Shaan in the eyes. His equerry had a hopeful look on his face, clearly thinking Henry would be excited about watching the match. Henry was not going to give him the satisfaction. “And what does the Firm have to say about me attending the match when England isn’t in contention?”

“They approved sir.”

“Did they? Out of the goodness of their hearts?” Henry looked directly in Shaan’s eyes.

“I pointed out that it would be good to show you enjoying yourself as a young man of your age should – taking the opportunity to enjoy a once-in-a-lifetime event for a sport all of Great Britain reveres…”

“Right… all very masculine and appropriate, isn’t it?” Henry snapped before he could bite his tongue. “And you said seats, plural? Who is expected to attend with me?”

“Whomever you wish, sir,” Shaan smiled softly, a hopeful look in his eyes.

“Well, if I have to attend this lovely surprise, I’ll probably just go on my own.”

Henry looked out the window again as they rolled up to the venue, refusing to look at Shaan again. He knew Shaan loved football and would appreciate joining him. But Henry was angry and miserable, and misery loved company.

※※※

As Henry entered the VIP section of the dive area, he surveyed the room, trying to gage who he needed to avoid the most. As he scanned the room, he suddenly froze. Several feet away, between him and the bar was possibly the most stunning boy Henry had ever seen. About his age, he was laughing as he chatted with two girls, his smile lighting up the space around him. He was about Henry’s height, with caramel skin over an athletic, wiry body, unruly, curly brown hair and the longest eyelashes Henry had ever seen. He was breathtakingly beautiful.

“Shaan, who is that group over there? I haven’t seen them before.”

“I believe that would be part of the US contingent – the children of the democratic nominees for president and vice-president. Arrived a few days ago, sir.”

“Interesting.”

The boy looked over and Henry quickly looked away. He moved towards the back of the section, where he would hopefully fade into the background – at least as much as he was ever able to.

※※※

Over the next hour, Henry pretended to watch the diving. Shaan was right, he would have enjoyed watching this sport if he wasn’t so distracted by who he now knew to be Alexander Claremont-Diaz – the charismatic son of one of the US presidential candidates. A quick search on his smartphone had confirmed what he thought when he first set eyes on Alex – that he was the embodiment of sunlight, joy, and all the things Henry yearned for. He was also apparently very, very straight and in love with the brunette standing beside him. Despite these latter facts, Henry couldn’t keep his eyes off him. Even though he had never even talked to Alex and didn’t know a single thing about him beyond what the online PR machine he knew not to trust had told him, the knowledge that he would likely never talk to Alex, that he was completely inaccessible to him felt like it was ripping what remained of his heart out of his body.

But he couldn’t stop torturing himself by watching Alex slyly, under the guise of watching the divers just past him. Alex had continued to talk and laugh with his girlfriend and his sister (Nora and June, per his all-knowing smartphone). He seemed to rotate between taking big drinks out of what seemed to be a constantly refreshed glass of caipirinhas, taking selfies, and fiddling with the yellow ipê-amarelo in his pocket. He was mesmerizing.

Henry was shaken out of his revery when Shaan leaned over. “Sir, given what just occurred with Mr. Daley, we can depart whenever you wish. As well, I am already working with the team regarding what will replace the diving final in your itinerary later this afternoon. Please advise me if there is anything you have a preference to attend.”

“Yes, right…” Henry had no clue what Shaan was going on about as Alex had suddenly turned around and seemed to be walking directly towards him. With every step Alex came closer, Henry could feel his heart beating faster and his lungs constricting more.

Then Alex was directly in front of him, looking directly into Henry’s eyes with a gorgeous grin and an even more gorgeous dimple. And Henry was pretty sure if he did not get out of the venue immediately, the entire audience would get to watch a prince have a panic attack instead of the remainder of the diving competition. Because Henry was most definitely having a full-on panic attack.

Shaan seemed to immediately know what was happening and stepped closer to the prince, aware that they needed to make a hasty exit.

“Yes, may we help you?” Shaan calmly said to Alex, not showing any sign he was aware that Henry could meltdown at any moment.

“Uh, hi, sorry, hi Your Royal Highness… I wanted to introduce myself. I’m Alexander Claremont-Diaz, son of hopefully soon-to-be president-elect Ellen Claremont. I just figured we might be crossing paths in the future, and figured I would say what’s up…”

Alex was clearly nervous and it may be the most charming thing Henry had ever experienced. Which he should enjoy, but instead it just made the pressure on his chest worse and his hands start to go numb. He needed to get out of the venue before he lost control.

Henry leaned closer to Shaan and tried to whisper as quietly and subtly as possible, barely able to say the words he was having such difficultly breathing, “Can you get rid of him?”

Before he could look back at Alex, Shaan was saying in his crisp, professional manner “Well, thank you Mr. Claremont-Diaz for coming over. I’m afraid His Royal Highness has to get to another competition, but it has been a pleasure meeting you. Another time perhaps?” and Henry was ushered into the cavernous back hallways the VIPs access venues through.

As soon as they rounded a corner and Henry was out of Alex’s line of sight, he felt a bit more grounded but still panicked. The eyes of Shaan and his PPOs were too much. He needed space. Henry paused mid-step and looked at his team, saying “I need air and I need you all to piss off while I get it,” before briskly walking ahead, searching for the back-exit.

He could feel his handlers following him despite his request and he spun around angrily. “If you all don’t give me 15 minutes to collect myself and leave me the fuck alone for those 15 minutes, I will ensure you are all fired before we land back in England.” There must have been something in the way he said it that made the men around him pause, because as he briskly strode around two more corners and out the back exit he was blissfully alone.

He leaned against a wall and bursts into tears with a gasping breath. Because he was definitely still having a panic attack.

For several minutes Henry practiced the grounding exercises he had learned about online. Box breathing, focusing on his different senses one at a time, and just trying to be present. He was still quietly crying but was getting his breathing under control.

Closing his eyes, he took a deep breath, trying to find his centre. Before he could finish the breath there was a loud bang of a door and a dark-haired figure came whipping around the corner. The figure suddenly stopped only two steps away from him, bent over making disgusting retching sounds, dry heaving but fortunately nothing more. As Henry stared at the figure in shock, he realized it was Alexander Claremont-Diaz.

Henry just stared at him as Alex continued to make disgusting sounds, seemingly oblivious to Henry’s presence. Alex stood up, eyes still closed and slumped against the wall Henry was also leaning against. After a beat, Henry realized Alex still didn’t know he was there.

The current moment was quite possibly the most awkward moment of his life, but Henry was paralyzed, staring at the boy that triggered his worst panic attack since being in Rio. And it seemed that the boy in question was also having a panic attack? That golden, happy image was shattered by what he was witnessing and he didn’t feel quite so alone.

“Are you quite done?” Henry whispered, needing Alex to know he was there.

Alex’s eyes snapped open and Henry was staring into deep brown eyes, so captivating he almost forgot where he was and what was going on. Henry waited for a response, but Alex just stared at him, his mouth slack and eyes wide.

“I said, are you quite done?” Henry said in a stronger voice, trying to get Alex to react.

Alex continued to stare but then blinked a couple times, like he was coming out of a trance. “Yes, ah, yeah, done with the retching, I think… I hope… Fuck… I mean, sorry… Shit… But, like, are you alright?”

Notes:

A few notes:

  • Before anyone asks why I made Henry such an ass or takes offense to his treatment of Shaan, I would like to quote Henry in the book talking about this exact day "But I can tell you I was, in fact,  a prick that day. Not that it's any excuse, but my father had died fourteen months before, and I was still kind of a prick every day of my life at the time." Yes I leaned into this factoid, hard. Nothing like an angry, isolated teenager to brighten up the day of those around them! So while Shaan very much deserves a fruit basket for dealing with Henry during this time, I make no apologies for my choices in making Henry a monumental prick (to use his own words).
  • This story will be written from both Alex and Henry's POV, switching as appropriate. It will be rare that you get both of their POV's for the same series of events (only when I think it is super important to get both perspectives).
  • Assume Henry takes a "gap" year after his A-Levels and father's passing (but not really a gap year - he is working for the Crown the entire time). It's frankly the only way the timing in the book and this story will work out (as Henry's diploma would be take 3 years, not 4 like an American one). Anyone who has read my previous story knows I like my facts hard and correct, and this is the only way the book timing works.
  • Being the insane person that I am, I actually reviewed the schedule of events and performances in the Rio Games. I know in the book CMQ specifically references that Alex and Henry first meet at a diving FINAL, which is very likely as Great Britain medaled in 3 of 4 men's events, however even though Tom Daley was a favourite coming into the event on the 10M Platform final the last Saturday of the games, something went wrong in the semi-final and he didn't move forward. So Henry would not have been at the Finals of diving on this very specific date that was required to coincide with the men's football final (which was an important detail I wanted to include). But there was also diving that day, and Henry could go to the semi-finals so I made a slight adjustment (this is a canon divergence story!)

Chapter 3

Notes:

TRIGGER WARNINGS FOR THIS CHAPTER
Discussion of panic attacks

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

Alex continued to stare but then blinked a couple times, like he was coming out of a trance. “Yes, ah, yeah, done with the retching, I think… I hope… Fuck… I mean, sorry… Shit… But, like, are you alright?”

The question startled Henry and he remembered the state he was in just moments ago. He brought a hand up to his face and realized his cheeks were wet. Alex must have been able to see that he’d been crying. Henry stiffened, and for a moment he considered just striding away, but the way Alex was looking at him made him pause. He was looking directly in his eyes, but there was no judgment or pity, just genuine concern.

“About as alright as you, it seems,” Henry said, slumping back against the wall beside Alex.

Alex huffed through his nose. “Definitely not alright then.” They both leaned against the wall, side by side and silent. After a moment, Alex turned his head to Henry and smiled softly. “Do you want to talk about it? I mean, it’s totally cool if you don’t, and I wouldn’t be surprised if you didn’t, given earlier… But if you want to talk, you can. And I promise I will keep it between you and me.”

Henry just looked down at his feet. Something about Alex made him want to tell him everything. Even though he had no reason to trust him, there was a genuineness in Alex’s voice that made him know in his bones that whatever he said to Alex would be safe and protected. But that feeling was also so terribly overwhelming that Henry didn’t know what to do with it – not brave enough to actually speak, but unwilling to walk away.

“Fuck, sorry. I’ll just leave you be. You didn’t want to have anything to do with me in the first place, and now I’m trying to get all up in your business. Sorry, your majesty – I’ll leave you alone.”

Henry’s head snapped up as Alex moved away from the wall, the panic of Alex leaving outweighing his fear of speaking. “It was a panic attack.”

Alex looked at Henry and quietly leaned back against the wall, waiting for Henry to continue.

“I get panic attacks.” Henry said quietly, unwilling to look at Alex. “Earlier, when you came up to me, I was having a panic attack. It’s why I left so quickly.”

Realization and understanding crossed over Alex’s face, “Shit. That’s awful. Is there anything I can do?”

“It’s fine, I’ve grounded myself. Was just trying to get some space from my equerry and PPO team for a moment while I did so. What about you? Are you okay?” Henry looked up at Alex, finally remembering that he wasn’t the only person decidedly not alright moments ago.

Alex snorted. “Apparently, I get panic attacks too. Or, I guess, still get panic attacks. Haven’t had one in years – not since during my parents’ divorce. But it seems they’re still a thing. While caipirinhas are delicious and my absolute favourite thing about Rio, I do not recommend combining them with panic attacks. 0 out of 10. Do not try.”

“Noted.” The young men looked at each other quietly. “Can I ask what triggered your attack?” Henry said.

“I’ll show you mine if you show me yours?” Alex raised his eyebrows and looked pointedly at Henry. Henry couldn’t believe he was actually nodding in agreement, but he was. “Funny story for me. Some royal dickhead snubbed me when I tried to say hi and told his handler to get rid of me. Super embarrassing moment. Triggered a lot of feelings I don’t really want to get into, honestly.”

Realization flooded Henry. Alex had heard what he said to Shaan and it had triggered Alex’s panic attack. More often than not, he was actively trying to push people away and make them feel what he was feeling. But witnessing the result of this behaviour, especially the result experienced by this particular person, filled him with shame and regret.

“You heard that, did you? I didn’t actually intend you to hear that, but I’m sorry that you did. I have a tendency to be a bit of an arsehole these days…”

“It’s cool, I’m pretty sure you were being a royal dickhead because of your own panic attack, so I’m willing to give you a pass. One time.”

“I appreciate that, Alex. Although I don’t know if I deserve that. I guess it’s time to explain what triggered mine…” Henry paused, not quite sure how to articulate that Alex was the trigger. He rubbed the back of his neck and looked away before mumbling, “You.”

“Sorry, did you say me?” Alex said, sounding confused and surprised.

Henry continued to look anywhere but at Alex’s gaze. In for a penny, in for a pound Henry figured. He would probably never see Alex after this moment anyways. “Yes, you. But more precisely, you coming up to me in that moment was the trigger. You see, I get panic attacks a lot. Ever since… Well, in the last year or so I get them a lot. And being in Rio and representing the Crown these last two weeks has been exhausting – I have been having mild panic attacks more frequently as the games have progressed. And your approach, well it triggered one.” Henry knew that wasn’t the whole truth – that it was the idea of Alex, of sunlight, talking to him specifically that triggered the attack.

Alex looked at him contemplatively. He opened his mouth to say something, but then a look of realization crossed over his eyes and he closed his mouth. He continued to look at Henry, a host of emotions floating though his eyes before he quirked his head to his side, smiling softly and said, “Escalating panic attacks for 2 weeks straight, huh? Assume that is a 0 out of 10 review too?”

Relief flooded Henry – Alex not probing, not trying to find out more, released the lingering pressure on his chest. Alex’s silly comment made Henry feel safe. Safe and unjudged. “It is an experience I would definitely not recommend.”

“Do you want to start over?” Alex said.

“Sorry?”

“Like do a re-do of earlier, without the panicking? Just saying, neither of us were at our best and it was definitely not the meet-cute I expected to start our international dignitary relationship with.” Henry just looked at Alex, completely confused. Alex just huffed, stood up straight and stuck his hand out. “Your Majesty, hello. How are you? I wanted to introduce myself. I’m Alex Claremont-Diaz, son of soon-to-be president-elect Ellen Claremont. I figured we might be crossing paths in the future, and I wanted to introduce myself.”

Henry chuckled, and shook Alex’s hand. “Pleasure. But you should know it is Your Royal Highness; Your Majesty is reserved for the queen.” Henry smirked.

“I’m not introducing myself to you a third time.”

“Very well, I guess to avoid future confusion you can call me Henry.”

“Not His Royal Highness Prince Dickhead?”

Henry just quirked an eyebrow, but before he could respond Alex’s phone started to buzz.

“Fuck, it’s my sister June. Apparently, our secret service detail noticed they lost me and are starting to lose their shit. I probably need to get back before they accuse Russia or the Republicans of kidnapping me.” Alex started to type into his phone quickly, missing the disappointment on Henry’s face. “Hey, why don’t you give me your number? It might be nice to keep in touch, especially if we are going to end up at the same events now and then.”

Before Henry could respond, Alex as handing him his phone, open to a new contact page. The name at the top was already ‘HRH Prince Dickhead 💩’. As Henry was typing in his number an idea popped in his head. And for whatever reason, he again spoke before he could lose the courage. “What are you doing this evening? I have seats for the football final and wondered if you wanted to join me?”

Notes:

I know - another shorty. But I promise these set-up chapters will pay off. Now the boys are starting off on the right foot - I can't wait to show you where I take them!

Thank-you to everyone who is liking and commenting in these early chapters - I really appreciate it and it gives me motivation to continue forward.

Chapter 4

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

Alex stood in front of the mirror fiddling with the curls in his hair. Always unruly, he hadn’t quite figured out how to control them. He thought back to the surreal course of events that had led him to getting ready to meet up with a Prince of Fucking England to watch soccer in Brazil. Definitely not how he thought his day was going to go.

June and Nora told him he was oblivious to other people’s thoughts and feelings on an almost daily basis. And they were mostly right – his brain moved so quickly that he often forgot to listen or pay attention to the present, already onto the next topic or a tangent the discussion had inspired. It wasn’t ideal if he wanted to be a congressman by 30 and it was something he was working on. Sort of. He was good at crowds and large groups, was good at speaking. He didn’t lose focus when he was speaking, in fact he could talk about a topic he was passionate about for hours. He killed it at the DNC and the team had been putting him on stage to talk more and more since then. He preferred to focus on his strengths versus his weaknesses anyways.

He knew one-on-one was hard for him. Forming connections and real friendships was hard – he was popular in high school, was even prom king. He was good at parties, at sports and in class. But he wasn’t very good at genuine friendships. He was fully aware the idea of him made him popular, that he wasn’t popular because he was actual, legitimate friends with everyone. Most people seemed to find him to be too much with extended exposure. Too talkative, too distracted, too all over the place. Besides June, and now Nora, if you asked who his genuine friends were only one name would come up: Liam. And something seemed to have changed over senior year, as Alex spent more time away from school campaigning. They had barely texted at all in the summer, and earlier in the month when Alex had a few days of down-time back in Austin, it felt like Liam was making excuses for them to not meet up. Alex wasn’t worried though – he figured after the election and before he started college, Liam and him would find the time needed to reconnect.

When he was talking to Henry behind the aquatics building, something had just clicked on in his brain and he realized he needed to listen and understand. To stay focused and present. And something about talking to Henry allowed him to do just that. He didn’t get it, but was glad for it. Because when Henry had told him about his panic attacks, and the timeline, his brain that normally jumped from barely related topic to barely related topic had instead connected all the dots and filled in the critical info that wasn’t being said out loud. Such as that “the last year or so” was related to his father’s death. Alex didn’t need media training to be aware of that – the entire world had paused when Arthur Fox died. And his son had, understandably, not been doing well. Had been doing quite fucking badly if the term “get them a lot” meant anything. And somehow, his brain connected more dots. About how the last thing he should do is ask Henry for more info but instead be cool about it. Not make the other boy talk about the worst thing ever. And somehow that had led to him, standing in front of a mirror, preparing to go hang out with a Prince of Fucking England to watch a gold medal soccer match in Brazil.

Without knocking, Nora barged into his room of the suite they were sharing and flopped onto his bed. “So, tell me again how you scored an invite from Prince Henry to the soccer match that we couldn’t get tickets to, no matter how many strings Zahra tried to pull?”

“I dunno – we met at the diving semi, then I bumped into him again outside the venue and we got to talking,” Alex shrugged, focusing on his reflection in the mirror and avoiding looking at Nora, trying to be casual. He knew she knew there was more to the story, and if he gave her any more details, she would find a way to make him crack and tell her the whole story. It was a super power both she and June shared, and it was the worst.

“And why did you leave the diving venue without the secret service or, more importantly, telling us?” Alex could feel her eyes bearing into the back of his head. He continued to fiddle with his hair – probably making it look worse.

“It’s not the first day that caipirinhas consumption has caused me to wander off, Nora. I honestly thought I was going to be sick and needed some fresh air. Bumped into Henry out back and as we had just met, we started chatting.” Not a lie. The key to lying was not actually lying.

“Right…”

“Seriously Nora, why do you keep asking me about this?” He was totally going to crack. Nora was staying silent, which meant the super computer in her brain was working through his not-lies and seeing if they added up. Maybe his not-lie strategy wasn’t the best when it came to Nora’s brain…

Before she could respond, Alex’s phone buzzed.

 

HRH Prince Dickhead 💩

Good evening.

Are you still able to meet at the stadium in an hour?

Alex

yes! super stoked

HRH Prince Dickhead 💩

Great.

Shaan says getting to the stadium is going to be an absolute nightmare, even with my PPO detail.

He said you should leave early too.

Alex

is yr assistant my assistant now? 🧐

bc that could be helpful

HRH Prince Dickhead 💩

He’s an equerry, not an assistant.

And maybe. But don’t tell him that.

Alex

noted

will leave soon

HRH Prince Dickhead 💩

Don’t get distracted on the way.

Alex

??

HRH Prince Dickhead 💩

There may be shiny objects and caipirinhas stands.

Alex

rude

but valid

HRH Prince Dickhead 💩

Shaan put your name at the VIP entrance in case you get there first. Text me if you encounter any issues.

Alex

👍

i’ll pick u up a caipirinhas on my way 🍻

 

When Alex looked up from his phone, Nora was staring at him with her head cocked to one side.

“What?”

“We were talking then you were texting. Did you even hear what I just asked you?”

“No, sorry. Just Henry confirming timing. I need to get going – apparently getting to the stadium is going to be a shitshow.”

“Just texting with Henry, huh?” Nora just kept looking at him with a strange look. It was starting to make him really uncomfortable.

“What? Stop making this weird.”

“This is legitimately weird. What about this scenario is normal? You are literally going to meet up with His Royal Highness Prince Henry of a lot of stuff. And you’re just casually texting with him about traffic? And you still won’t explain how this happened. And you are making really weird faces at your phone while you text.”

“Nora, seriously, I don’t know what the fuck you are talking about. I’ve got to go.” He totally knew exactly what she was talking about. But he was a lying liar that lies and wasn’t going to get caught in her trap. Thank God June was in her room on her daily video call with her boyfriend. If it had been both of them, he would have already cracked.

“Fine, whatever. We’ll talk later.”

“There is literally nothing to talk about. Have fun in the athlete’s village tonight.”

Alex made an exit into the common area and almost made it to the suite’s door before June appeared.

“Hi Bug, bye Bug. Gotta get going!” He walked over to her, kissed her on the cheek and beelined it for the exit.

“Wait, Alex, you cleared this with Zahra right? I was telling Evan and his reaction was surprisingly big. And not just about the soccer.”

“Yeah, I texted her I was going to the game. She’s cool.” He had. He just omitted how he got a ticket. And who he would be sitting with. Better to ask for forgiveness with Zahra. At least then you can enjoy yourself before she killed you. “I really have to go June – I’ll see you later.”

Alex finally left the suite and his security detail fell in behind him – he had overheard the agents squabbling quietly earlier about who would get to go with him to the game. He was glad one of them was the big guy that went by Cash – he seemed cooler than most of the other agents.

※※※

Getting to the stadium took ages by car. It would have been faster to walk and more fun, but Cash told him that it wasn’t an option for security reasons. He wasn’t even allowed to open a window to feel the energy of the crowd. He loved being in a crowd – at music festivals, tail gates, rallies – he fed off the energy. Since his mom had become the official democratic candidate, he had been able to go less and less places freely as time progressed. Definitely no crowds, and nothing unplanned. He was amazed he had gotten security approval to go to this match. Probably helpful he was meeting a prince that would be surrounded by far more security then his two agents.

When they finally arrived, getting to the box where Henry had seats went surprisingly smooth. He didn’t even have to give his name – Shaan met his team at the door and ushered them through. Before they headed to the box Shaan stopped and turned to Alex and Cash. “Special Agent Coleman – thank you for getting your team’s NDAs over so quickly. I know this was all very last minute. I trust your discussion with Sergeant O’Connor went smoothly regarding the set-up this evening?”

Cash nodded. “All good, Mr. Srivastava. We are used to adjusting plans on the fly.”

Alex looked at the two with confusion. He had no idea they were in contact or that there was any reason to be.

“What kid, do you think we would just let you launch yourself into a stadium with seventy-five thousand people without a solid security plan and a few back-up plans in place? And obviously we had to coordinate with His Royal Highness’s team so we would be working together versus stepping on each other’s toes.”

“Huh.”

Shaan and Cash shared a brief, amused look. “There is always a plan kid – part of the whole keeping you alive, in one piece, and not abducted. Maybe keep that in mind when you pull a disappearing act at a venue with thousands of people in a foreign country,” Cash said with one eyebrow arched.

Alex just nodded. He kind of just thought the secret service simply followed him around. That there were plans at big events and rallies, but not when it was just him doing his thing. Alex made a mental note to find out more about his protection detail.

“Mr. Claremont-Diaz, before you join His Royal Highness, there are a few papers you will need to sign. Digitally, of course.” Shaan pulled out a tablet from his suit jacket and tapped the screen a few times before handing it to Alex. “It’s simply the standard non-disclosure agreement that is used with the royal family. It should be noted that His Royal Highness has already signed your NDA, it was sent over by your team earlier this afternoon.”

“OK…” Alex was generally confused – he didn’t know he had an NDA and was adding it to the questions he would get Cash to answer later. His brain was quickly distracted by the very detailed document on the tablet. He signed a few NDAs himself since his 18th birthday, but quickly realized this one was way more thorough than the ones he had signed before. “Interior architectural details” and “financial information” just amused him – why would he care about any of that? Whatever, he had no intention to disclose anything about Henry anyways. He quickly signed and initialed everywhere required, handing the tablet back to Shaan. He didn’t want to risk missing the start of the game.

Once in the box, he made sure to stop at the bar and get two drinks before heading over to Henry.

“Hello Alex,” Henry said in greeting, a warm smile on his face.

“Hey,” Alex said as he dropped into the seat beside Henry and handed him one of the cups.

“Thanks.”

“Least I could do is get you a free drink from the private box you invited me to.”

“Very altruistic of you.”

“A sacrifice I would make again.” The boys smirked at one another. They had been texting back and forth all afternoon. It was amazing how easy the banter was.

The match started and they were quickly engrossed. For the most part, they were focused on the game with only random bursts of conversation unrelated to the match when there was a lull in the play.

 

“They are fries not chips, because the more fried they are, the better. I will die on this hill.”

“The potatoes have to be made into chips before they are fried. And before you say it, actual chips not the thin crispy slices you call chips.”

 

“I’m pretty sure Yoda could take on the whole Brazilian side single handedly.”

“Obviously.”

 

“I can’t believe I’m finally starting uni in October – excited to be able to focus on that instead of bloody appearances, but also dreading it. I wish I could just fade into the crowd but I am fully aware every eye is going to be on me in every lecture theatre I walk into. I just want to be treated like every other student…”

 

“Why isn’t there a handball game that, like, is complimentary to soccer? Or was there and no one was into it?”

“Isn’t that what you Americans call football? And outside of your continent, I can confirm almost no one is into it…”

 

“I miss being able to walk in a crowd…”

“I’ve never gotten to do that.”

※※※

After a nail-biting penalty kick finish, Henry and Alex sat in the emptying box waiting to get the green light from their respective security teams to leave. The streets outside the stadium had quickly filled with celebrations for the home team, and revised plans were being put in place to ensure their safe exit from the stadium.

Alex turned to Henry and smiled, taking a deep sip from his cup. “Thanks for inviting me to this. It was really fun. And not just the watching one of the most epic games of soccer ever. Like, it was just fun hanging out with you – I can’t remember the last time I just chilled and hung out with a friend. Not since the election began.”

Henry smiled softly and looked at Alex. “Friends?”

“Clearly. I have your phone number and everything.”

“I could block you.”

“Whatever, in a few months I’ll get the NSA to undo that.”

“Fair point. I guess I shouldn’t even bother attempting to block you then.”

“Nope.”

“I had a lot of fun this evening too,” Henry said with another soft smile. Alex felt a strange tension in his chest as he looked at Henry, but before he could think more about the feeling, Henry stole his drink, finishing it in one gulp. “Of course, that was mainly because of the football and not the daft American beside me who thinks chips are called fries.”

They laughed and just sat in comfortable silence, looking out over the emptying stadium.

“So, what is your plan tomorrow? Are you going to the closing ceremony? I am – also going to try and hit up whatever final games the team wants me to cheer on. As long as I can get to the rhythmic gymnastics’ final tomorrow morning, I’ll be happy.”

“I’m sorry, but did you just say rhythmic gymnastics?”

“Don’t knock it till you try it, your majesty. Best sport at the Olympics.”

“Right… Still processing, I may have some follow up questions later.”

“Fair. I’ll get a dossier prepared for you.”

“Appreciated.”

“Now seriously – what’s your plan tomorrow? Closing ceremony?”

“Definitely the closing ceremony – unfortunately. Shaan would have to confirm the rest. I fly out first thing Monday.”

“Text me what box you are in. Maybe we can meet up to hang out once the music performances begin and eyes are off the dignitaries.”

“That would be nice, Alex.”

“Cool.”

Alex started to feel that strange tension again, but this time it was broken by Shaan and Cash both heading towards them – indicating it was time to leave. Alex jumped up and smiled at Henry. “Guess it’s time to get going. Text me tomorrow!”

Notes:

I hope you are enjoying the slow burn that this fic is - our boys have only just met and Alex is Alex, so it is going to be a bit before they figure things out! But i kind of am loving writing them at this age... Let me know what you think - kudos and comments are always appreciated and very motivating!

And yes, the rhythmic gymnastics final was actually held on the final Sunday morning of the games. And, if you have any doubt I am insane, I researched both it and exactly how the gold medal soccer match played out (and the capacity of the stadium…) Possibly send help…

Chapter 5

Notes:

A short but very sweet chapter this week. Hope you enjoy and then you for all the kudos and comments sent my way - it really is appreciated!

TRIGGER WARNINGS FOR THIS CHAPTER
Discussion of panic attacks

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

The next morning, Alex woke up to his phone buzzing.

 

HRH Prince Dickhead 💩

How was I not aware of rhythmic gymnastics before today?

How? My Eton education has failed me!

 

Before going to bed, Alex had sent Henry a “dossier”. Really just a few links to Wikipedia and some YouTube videos, but he called it a dossier and that is what mattered. His phone continued to buzz.

 

HRH Prince Dickhead 💩

I feel like I have wasted the last two weeks of my life.

I mean, I already knew that. But now I know there was a way they could have not been wasted.

Alex

once you know you know

can’t change the past, padawan, only the future

HRH Prince Dickhead 💩

But I can’t change the future.

Alex

?

HRH Prince Dickhead 💩

Shaan can’t make the schedule work.

Or doesn’t want to. He hasn’t seen the light.

Alex

wish i could help you combat the forces against you, but I still need like 3 cups of coffee before i can handle that

HRH Prince Dickhead 💩

Typical American, avoiding joining the war until we’re halfway through.

Alex

whatever, once I join we’ll win

***

For the rest of the day, Alex and Henry texted back and forth non-stop between engagements. Alex couldn’t believe how easy it was to talk with Henry. Like they hadn’t just met the day before, and met in probably the most awkward way ever.

Bonding over mutually triggered panic attacks.

While avoiding their security teams.

At the Olympics.

It was weird to think that six years ago, he was looking at a picture of a Henry in a magazine wondering what his life was like. Turns out they had a lot more in common than he would have imagined, and their lives would be even more similar if everything went as expected in November.

Alex watched the closing ceremony, trying to continue to look engaged and interested while the formal portion of the closing dragged on. The plan was they would both find an excuse to slip out about 10 minutes after the ceremony was officially closed and the fireworks show was distracting everyone. (Shaan’s insistence on a very detailed program of the ceremony had proven extremely useful). Once they had met up, they were going to find somewhere more chill to hangout for a bit.

While Henry didn’t say anything, Alex could tell from the messages that as the day went on Henry was struggling more and more. While Alex found crowds energizing, it was very clearly the opposite for Henry. He couldn’t imagine how he had kept going for the last two weeks. Even Alex would have found that exhausting.

As the fireworks began, Alex turned to June and Nora. “I’ve got a bit of a headache. I’m going to go get some fresh air.”

“Do you want me to come with you?” June looked worried as she slipped into big sister mode.

“Nah, don’t worry about it. Y’all enjoy the rest of the show. Cash will be with me. I’ll message if I decide to go back to the hotel.”

“Are you sure?”

“I’ll be fine Bug. Plus someone has to represent the Claremont side of the Claremont-Holleran ticket for the rest of the show.” Alex squeezed June’s shoulder as he slipped out of his seat, nodding to Cash to follow as he exited the box they were in.

He looked to his left and saw Henry striding toward him. He smiled and clasped Alex’s shoulder warmly. “Hello Alex.”

“Hey! Do you want to get out of here?”

“Absolutely. There’s a place I know about where we can go.”

※※※

Alex found himself sitting on a seawall besides Henry, looking out over the ocean. Their respective security teams were visible to them, but far enough away that it felt private.

“How did you find this place again?”

“A couple days into the Games and I was desperate for somewhere I could decompress outside my hotel suite. Shaan or one of the PPOs found this spot. I’ve come here almost every evening.”

“I really need a Shaan.”

Henry chuckled wryly. “Well, you can’t have him. You’ll have to find your own.” Henry stared out over the water. “He’s the only person that knows about the panic attacks. He tries to make all of this as bearable for me as possible. Runs buffer between me and the Firm.”

“The Firm?”

“It’s what we call the institution that runs the business of the Crown. Gran runs the Firm with an iron fist.”

“If you told your grandmother what was going on, wouldn’t she try to help? If my abuela ever found out about my panic attacks, she would move back to Austin and smother me with food and hugs.”

“Not the kind of grandmother I have, I’m afraid. Gran runs the family with an iron fist as well. I don’t actually think she has ever hugged me… Our priority is not ourselves or our family, but ensuring the sanctity and reputation of the Crown,” Henry said, his tone of voice shifting to sound more sever and even posher than it normally was.

“Seriously?”

“My introversion and emotions are nuisances that need to be stamped out so I can focus on what really matters. A quote from my brother, by the way, although I’m pretty sure he heard it or something similar from Gran,” Henry said with a sigh, a grim expression on his face.

“That’s really fucked up Henry. Like that is not okay.”

“Perhaps. But that is the reality of the role I was born into. It doesn’t really matter if it is okay or not, because it is what it is. Prince Henry belongs to his country and must do what he is dictated to do by the monarchy. I don’t really get a choice in the matter.” Henry looked off into the water, starting at a light blinking from a ship on the horizon.

“There is always a choice. You can always say no.”

Henry chuckled and looked at Alex wryly. “You mean leave the Crown? A bit extreme perhaps. Did you know my great grandfather almost abdicated? There are still whispers of it in the Firm. Apparently, some business with an American divorcee. All very scandalous at the time. Perhaps it would have worked out better – quite honestly, he wasn’t a very good King and said some pretty abhorrent things in his life. I think that is why Gran is so determined to ensure we behave in a way she deems appropriate – she is so focused on fixing what he broke that she refuses to see that the world has evolved beyond what things were like in the 1950s and 1960s when her father was cocking everything up. Although I also know she agrees with the abhorrent things he said, as she is her father’s daughter. However Gran is acutely aware the public should not be aware of those opinions.”

“There’s a lot to unpack there, H. We may need to circle back – especially about the American divorcee. But leaving the Crown sounds like a nuclear option. Can’t you just, like, say no or refuse to go to things you don’t want to? I can’t believe they would drag you kicking and screaming to events.”

Henry rubbed his face and looked at Alex with a faint smile. “Isn’t that a concept – ‘just say no’ and see what happens. I fear the result may be the kicking and screaming option.”

“You won’t know until you try. Doesn’t have to be saying no to something big that involves horses and those giant furry helmets. Start small and build your way up.” Alex bumped his shoulder against Henry’s and smiled. “I’m going to get you a bracelet made that says ‘W.W.A.D’. Whenever you want to say no, you can look at it and think “What Would Alex Do?” and then say no if that’s what I would do. Unless it involves getting to play with light sabers or puppies. For the record, in both those scenarios the answer is always yes.”

Henry chuckled. “Maybe… It’s a lot easier said then done.”

“Hey – you never know until you try it. My stepdad Leo always says that. If you don’t try, you never know what the outcome will actually be. And he’s made millions inventing some weird ass but brilliant shit. So I’m pretty sure he knows what he’s talking about.”

“Perhaps…”

Alex and Henry sat in companionable silence for a long time. Eventually Henry turned to Alex, smiling sadly. “I’m sorry I’ve been such a downer tonight. You could be back at the closing ceremony having a blast.”

“Nothing to be sorry about and you’re not being a downer. You’re being real. I actually appreciate that you want to be so honest with me about things. I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else. It’s nice getting to know the real you.”

“It’s nice getting to know the real you as well, Alex.”

Alex smiled and dropped his hand to the space in between them. He didn’t realize Henry’s hand was sitting there, and when their hands touched it felt like electricity was vibrating up his arm into his core. That same pressure he had felt in his chest earlier had returned. Alex looked towards Henry, first at his eyes and then at his lips. The urge to kiss Henry was all consuming and he could feel himself leaning towards the other boy, even though he hadn’t decided to do so. Henry seemed to be leaning in as well.

“Sirs.” Shaan’s voice caused both boys to snap away from one another and look behind them where Shaan had moved closer. “I’m sorry, but we really have to get going, Your Royal Highness.”

Henry shook his head and moved to get up. “Right, of course.” He turned to Alex. “I guess I have to go. I’ve really enjoyed the last couple days – it made this whole trip worth it. You’ll message me, won’t you?”

Alex continued to sit beside the spot Henry just left. His brain was trying to figure out what had just happened, not really hearing anything that had been said since Shaan’s ‘sirs’.

“Alex? Are you alright?”

The nervous tone in Henry’s voice snapped Alex back into the present. “Sorry what?”

“I’ve got to go. You’ll message me?”

Alex smiled as he got up himself, smiling at Henry, “You’re stuck with me pestering you from now on.”

Henry smiled as Shaan started to usher him away. “Excellent. Have a safe trip home, Alex.”

“You too, H. And remember – W.W.A.D!”

Notes:

Don't hate Shaan, hate the very public, outdoor space they were sitting in! (or hate me - I made Shaan do it!)

In my head cannon, Mary isn’t a descendent of George VI but of his older brother Edward VIII, who didn’t abdicate in this timeline - which explains her horribleness and prejudices and also her age difference to Elizabeth II and when she took the throne (and Henry being 15 years younger than William/Harry's generation). I figure Edward would have dragged his feet on finding an appropriate wife that wasn’t Wallis and producing heirs; he also lived until 1972, which almost perfectly lines up with the what Mary says in the book ("I have been serving this country for forty-seven years…") - it would have been 48 in September 2020, unless she only counted after her coronation ,which presumably would have happened some time in early 1973. So it may not just be head cannon, just saying…

Chapter 6

Notes:

Thank-you all for the ongoing comments, kudos and support of this story. It means so much to me! We are (finally) leaving Rio in this Chapter! (like literally...)

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

Alex did not sleep that night. He couldn’t stop thinking about Henry. What had happened with Henry. Or what had almost happened. What he thinks had almost happened. So what had almost maybe happened? Was he reading into things that weren’t happening? It was all so confusing. Because he was straight, right? He definitely enjoyed girls – everything about girls. He thought about his first kiss in middle school, his girlfriend Jess in sophomore and part of junior year that had been every other first (first girlfriend, first love, first sex, first heartbreak), Nora… There was no question he was into girls – kissing girls, touching girls, being with girls. But…

But when he thought about what he enjoyed, thoughts he tried to shove down and explain away kept banging on the door of his brain. Thoughts about how some of his lacrosse teammates looked in the locker room, how sometimes when he was alone the fantasy of a girl’s hands on him sometimes changed to hands that were definitely not a girl’s, how if he was honest with himself, he enjoyed those times with Liam just as much as every other sexual encounter he had had. The difference was his feelings. The feelings, the emotions he had with Jess, he was certain he didn’t have with Liam. He had always told himself it the thing with Liam was just two dudes relieving some tension, not a thing that meant anything or that he needed to think about. It was just a fun thing with his best friend. When he looked at Liam, it was just looking at a friend.

But with Henry…

There was that pressure in his chest he kept feeling. In the hours he had spent lying in his hotel room, he had thought a lot about that feeling. It was a familiar feeling. It was the same feeling he had with Jess (before she ripped his heart out right before they were announced as homecoming king and queen, telling him everything with his family was too much, he was too much…), and he had briefly had that feeling with Nora (before it disappeared as quickly as it arrived). But this new pressure, this Henry pressure, it was the same but even more. It felt different, more heavy, more important.

And it was an absolute mind fuck.

Alex rubbed his eyes and looked at the bedside clock. 3:55 a.m. He knew that in 15 minutes Nora and June would be banging on his door to leave for their flight home. They were flying together to Miami, then breaking apart to hit the campaign trail in different parts of the country. Usually, he was disappointed when he saw they were being sent to different events, but right now he was relieved. He knew that Nora and June would be able to tell something was going on with him instantly, and he was absolutely in no way ready to deal with their questions or pestering.

And there would absolutely be questions and pestering. Neither girl respected any privacy boundaries with him. If he was honest, that was in part due to him never really setting boundaries with them. At least none that they knew of. The late-night thing with Liam were a boundary (although until this very moment he was loath to admit there was something that needed a boundary there). But he wasn’t sure they would respect an overt boundary, if they asked him questions and his response was that he didn’t want to talk about it. And whatever this pressure, this feeling was, he really didn’t want to talk about it with anyone. At least not yet.

So, all he had to do was evade them for the next 12 hours or so – until he could disappear into the crowds of Miami International Airport as he made his way to wherever he was off to next (Maine? Minnesota? Montana? One of the M-states he was pretty sure).  And he had a plan. Operation Grumpy, Sleepy Alex was about to commence. The CIA had nothing on him.

As predicted, at 4:10 a.m. there was loud banging on his door. “Alejandro, get your ass in gear. We need to get to the airport ASAP.”

“Coming,” Alex said, hoping he sounded half asleep and not wide awake and ready to go. He pulled his orange, Texas longhorns baseball cap on his head, pulled his hoodie over that and put one AirPod in. Grabbing his bags, he came out of his room, trying his hardest to look not quite there.

“Well good morning, my dear Alejandro. How was your evening after you abandoned us at the closing?”

Fuck. Of course. Nora had probably slammed a Red Bull as soon as her alarm went off. Time to dodge and evade.

“Coffee?”

“We’ll get some at the airport.  How was your evening?”

“Fine. I need coffee. No talking until coffee.” Alex put his other AirPod in and added sunglasses for good measure (even though it was still dark out).  He headed for the suite’s exit where June was already waiting. Nora just huffed and followed him out.

※※※

At the airport, Alex continued to evade. Only removing his AirPods at check-in and security. Beelining it for the men’s washroom once they were in the business class lounge, before finding coffee and hiding in a privacy pod instead of joining Nora and June. When June came to check on him, he mumbled about needing more sleep and rolled onto his side so he faced away from her. Once they boarded the plane, he insisted Cash sit beside him as he had some questions about stuff, separating himself from June and Nora by an airplane aisle and the hulking Secret Service agent.

All in all, he was pretty pleased with Operation Grumpy, Sleepy Alex. However, by the look of annoyance on Nora’s face, and confusion on June’s, it may not have been CIA-level evasion. But he had managed to avoid them successfully, so he was going to take the W and celebrate it. And he really did want to talk with Cash about some things.

Once the flight was in air, and breakfast had been served (he really did love flying business class, it did not get old), he turned to Cash.

“So, I wanted to talk to you more about something from the other day.”

“What’s up kid? Happy to talk to you about anything,” Cash said quietly, like he was expecting this conversation.

“That thing you said about there always being a plan. Explain it to me.”

“Oh. That,” Cash’s eyebrows raised and he schooled his expression, like that was not what he was expecting. “What do you want to know?”

“So, like, how does this work?” Alex gestured between himself and the agent. “The secret service protecting me.”

“What do you mean how does it work? Protecting you is the job.”

“I know that, but you said there was always a plan? I thought you just followed me around and, like, watched my back.”

Cash chuckled, “That means we are doing our jobs right. I’ll let the team know.”

“But there’s more to it? You said there was always a plan?”

“Yes – some are standard protocol, pre-existing plans for whatever situation or environment we end up in with a subject. But if there is any advanced notice that our subject will be going somewhere, a plan is prepared to that specific situation.”

“And I’m the subject?”

“Yes, you are the subject under protection.”

“And those plans, how complicated are they?”

“Well, it depends on circumstance and lead time. But we try to vet the environment you will be heading to and any previously unvetted individuals you expect to interact with.”

“So like, for the soccer match Saturday you vetted the box and Henry?”

“Well, that was a different circumstance given the security already in place both at the venue and for the prince. We did get a list of everyone else in attendance in the box and worked with the prince’s security team to ensure our procedures were aligned and coordinated.”

“So like in the past, you have vetted people at events I’ve gone to? Like when I went to my prom in May?”

Cash nodded. “We got a list of attendees, visited the venue several times before the event to ensure it was secure, did a sweep before you entered, and there was a deep-dive vetting of your date and her family.”

“Oh. I didn’t realize.” Alex had no idea him deciding to go to his prom had been so complicated. He remembered bumping into the teacher who oversaw the organizing committee and her asking if he was really certain he was going to be able to attend. She looked tired and stressed, but Alex didn’t think much of it. He just smiled and said he wouldn’t miss it for the world. It never occurred to him that she was tired and stress because of him, and that him not attending would be easier. “That sounds like a lot of time and money for one night…”

“Well, you did get voted prom king. There was a betting pool with the team around that.”

Alex smiled at the memory than frowned. “Wait, who bet against me?” Cash just chuckled and gestured that his lips were zipped. “So, like, what about NDAs? I’ve signed a few since March, but no one told me people signed one for me?”

“I can’t really talk about that as the Service isn’t involved other than that we sometimes have to sign NDAs for individuals that you or another subject may interact with, which would require our presence and potential exposure to personal or other confidential information. NDAs are pretty standard operating procedure though. As a public figure yourself –”

“The son of two public figures,” Alex cut him off, not fully comfortable with being called a term he normally thought of as specific to his mom and dad.

“Kid, you spoke at the Democratic National Convention. That makes you a public figure. In fact, that makes you an internationally-known public figure, whether you realize it or not. Anyways, as a public figure yourself, and before that, as the son of two public figures, of course you have NDAs and there is probably a stack of signed NDAs in a lawyer’s office somewhere that have been signed over the years in regards to your life. Teachers, coaches, dates. But as you only recently turned 18, before then you wouldn’t have had to worry your pretty little curly-haired head about any of that. It would have been your parents’ job to arrange all of it.”

“Huh… so like, Kelsey would have signed an NDA?”

“Your prom date? Definitely. Or her parents on her behalf if she hadn’t yet turned 18. The maids at the hotel in Rio probably signed NDAs too. You should talk to Zahra or someone else from your mom’s team if you want to find out more.”

Alex had no idea. How did he have no idea? And how many people in his life had signed an NDA about him? Had his friends and his teammates signed NDAs? Why had no one told him? Had people mentioned it and he was just unaware? Alex’s brain started to whirl with all of the scenarios where NDAs could have been signed. And what about scenarios where an NDA possibly wasn’t signed but could be risky for his mom?

“Hey kid? Alex?” Cash tapped the wide seat rest between them, drawing Alex back to the conversation. “You seem like you are spinning out a bit. Are you going to be okay? Do you want me to swap with June?”

The suggestion to speak with June snapped him back to reality. He absolutely did not want to sit beside June right now. “No, I’m fine. Just trying to figure out how I wasn’t aware of any of this. Why no one told me.”

Cash shrugged. “I mean, I can’t speak for your parents, but if you were my son, I’d want you to feel like your life was as normal as possible growing up. Even if in a lot of ways, it wasn’t. Maybe talk to them, but try to keep that in mind when you do.”

Alex nodded and stared out the window for a bit before turning back to Cash. “So, like, when my mom is president,” Cash raised one eyebrow, causing Alex to roll his eyes. “If my mom is president, how will it work when I start at Georgetown in January? Will the entire dorm have to get vetted and sign NDAs? What about my classes or when I go to parties and stuff?”

Cash looked hesitant. “You should really talk to your mom’s team about this. It’s not really my place.”

Alex huffed. “Dude, seriously. Can you just tell me then, hypothetically, if a child of a sitting president were to attend university, how would it work?” Cash just looked at him with a blank face. “I have 7 more hours to bug you about this so you might as well save yourself the grief and just answer my questions now.”

“Never work with kids or animals. Not just applicable to show business.”

“Technically, I am a legal adult. And I promise you I can be way more fucking annoying than both kids and animals, combined.”

“Fine, but please keep in mind this isn’t an official security plan.” Alex nodded as he looked at Cash eagerly. “So, it will likely be a hard no on living in a university dorm. Too many uncontrollable variables, too public an environment, too many people coming and going. The most likely scenario would be an off-campus house rental or purchase, that would meet all security requirements and allow for the required security team’s quarters nearby. For classes, it would be similar to what we did when you were back in Austin where one agent was with you on campus. But with the scale of a university, and the accessibility by the public to it, it would be at least two agents with you, one sitting beside you in large classes or within close proximity if the classroom is smaller. Professors, group project partners, friends, etc. would get vetted. And I assume NDAs for all of those categories too, but not every student in a class with you.”

“And college parties?”

Cash sighed. “It will be a lot, but nothing the Service hasn’t navigated before. I assume NDAs will bet getting handed out like party favours though, and you’ll need to be really careful that you trust the people you are with as everyone has a camera on them today. The Bush twins definitely didn’t have to deal with that. I’ve heard some stories about those two,” Cash chuckled.

Alex just rubbed his eyes. He had never considered the logistics of going to university when his mom became president. He just assumed someone in a suit would follow him around unobtrusively. The cost and complexity hadn’t factored in to his mental plans.

“Hey, Alex, stop spinning out. This is the reality for every presidential family whether it is yours or the other side. I promise you will figure out how to navigate it and find a balance that works for you.”

“Yeah, I guess. I’m just processing. A lot to process the last 24 hours,” The last bit Alex said more to himself than to Cash. He looked back out the window quietly.

“Understandable.” Cash reached out and placed a hand on Alex’s forearm. “This might be overstepping, but know that if there is anything you want to talk to me about, anything, I’m here. Just remember that my job is to protect you – your physical self, but also your privacy. I signed an NDA just like every other agent that surrounds you. There are no clauses in it that what I see or hear while guarding you is to be shared with anyone. Not your mom, her team, or anyone else. I hope you know you can trust me and I will never break that trust.”

Alex just nodded. He understood what Cash was telling him with that promise. That his secrets were safe. That last night was safe. It eased a bit of the tension in his shoulders that he didn’t realize he had been carrying.

“Hey kid, you should probably try and get some shut-eye. It’s going to be a long haul for us to Michigan.”

As if on queue, Alex let out a big yawn. He nodded, eased his chair back into bed-mode, and crashed for the rest of the flight.

※※※

Shortly after the plan touched down, Alex fished out his phone and took it off airplane mode. Within seconds it was buzzing non-stop as a wave or messages and alerts came in.

 

Zahra

call me you little shit

as soon as you land!

Pa

Llámame cuando puedas. Parece que hay más de qué hablar además del partido de fútbol, ​​mijo.

Ma

Please call Zahra ASAP. I’ll be at stops all day and won’t have access to my phone.

HRH Prince Dickhead 💩

Christ Alex, I’m so sorry. All of this is so ridiculous.

I am so sorry.

 

Twitter tag notification: @tmz: Check out the pics of @agcd & @princehenryuk that has Republicans in a tizzy

Notes:

Cash has always and will always hold a special place in my heart. Every story I ever write will probably have moments where Cash is the best. :)

Oscar Text Translation (I do not speak Spanish and google isn't ideal, so apologies for anyone who does speak Spanish!):
Llámame cuando puedas. Parece que hay más de qué hablar además del partido de fútbol, mijo. - Call me when you can. Seems like there is more to talk about than just the soccer match, son.

Chapter 7

Notes:

So, I'm sorry about the cliffhanger but I hope this chapter makes up for it! (and fair warning, there will be more cliffhangers as cliffhangers are very much my jam). Thank-you for the continued support of this story - I have to say I LOVED writing this chapter and hope you enjoy it as much as I enjoyed writing it!

Chapter Text

Twitter tag notification: @tmz: Check out the pics of @agcd & @princehenryuk that has Republicans in a tizzy

 

Alex’s eyes went wide. His hands began to shake as he thought of the photograph that TMZ could be referencing. That moment. While nothing had happened, he’s pretty sure something was about to happen. And if there was a photo of that moment, well he didn’t quite know how to process a photo of that moment as he was still trying to process the moment itself.

With shaking hands he unlocked his phone and clicked on the TMZ message. He could hear Nora and June talking to him in the background, and the top of his phone was scrolling with more notifications but all he cared about was seeing the pictures. As they loaded onto the screen, he breathed a sigh of relief.

The first photo was from the soccer match. Henry and Alex were laughing as they talked about something. Both boys smiling and looking comfortable. The second photo must have been taken right as they met up when they escaped the closing ceremony together. Henry’s hand was on Alex’s shoulder and he had a big, gummy smile on his face. Alex’s profile was visible as he looked towards Henry as if he was saying something.

Alex was confused. Maybe it was because he expected a far more compromising photo to be what showed up on his phone. He really didn’t get what the big deal was. Before he could investigate, his phone lit up with a call from Zahra.

“Hey Zahra.”

“You are going to be the fucking death of me.”

“Sorry, we just landed. I’m still trying to catch up on what exactly is happening.”

“Not another word Alex. Not another word is going to come out of your mouth until we are in a secure, private location.”

“OK…”

“I said not another fucking word. Just listen to me you little shit. Change of fucking plans today. Instead of prepping your mother for next week’s presidential debate while she woos voters in Nashville, I am now waiting outside the terminal for you. You are going to keep your head down and not say a word until I tell you otherwise. Instead of getting on a commercial plane to Detroit, you will be getting on a private plane with me. Still to Detroit, because we have nothing to hide and itineraries will not change. But until you and I are on that private plane, you are not saying a single fucking word. To anyone. Not to June. Not to Nora. Not to anyone. And put your phone away – people can take photos of what is on your screen. Do you understand?”

Alex stayed silent. Unsure of how to respond when Zahra had told him not a word. He had absolutely no clue what was going on.

“Alex, confirm you understand. Then not another word.”

“Yes?”

“Good. See you in a few.” Zahra hung up, leaving Alex to stare at the screen in front of him. The plane was almost at the gate. June and Nora kept saying his name trying to get his attention. He just shook his head and stared ahead of him, quietly putting his phone in the pocket of his hoodie.

As he got off the plane, Alex pulled his baseball cap back on and his hoodie over his head. Operation Sleepy, Grumpy Alex was now Operation Incognito Alex. June and Nora must have been texted instructions, because neither tried to talk with him again. Both girls did give him hugs as they headed to catch their connecting flights, June murmuring that they would talk later and she loved him.

When he exited the terminal, as promised Zahra was right there. Her dark hair was tied back in a bun and her face severe. Without a word she whisked him quickly into a car and to the airport’s private terminal. Only once they were in a private jet, in a private room at the back that separated them from the flight attendant and secret service agents, did Alex dare to talk.

“Can I talk now?”

Zahra was quicky typing on her phone. She looked up, her mouth in a scowl. “You may.”

“Could you please explain what is going on? I saw the photos, but not much else. They were just pics of me and Henry hanging out.”

Zahra put her phone down, flexing her hands tensely before rubbing her temples as she said. “Just pics of you and Henry, huh? Super fucking casual pics of you and one of the princes of fucking Britain during an election. Pictures of you casually hanging out with a foreign dignitary at a global event. So casual and chummy that the Republicans are screaming about foreign interference and political influence.”

Alex looked at Zahra with his mouth agape. “I’m sorry, what? Foreign interference? Me and Henry?”

Zahra had returned to flexing her hands. “Please stop using the term ‘me and Henry’ like it is not taking a year off my life every time you do so.”

“But…”

“Just stop talking. Let me explain, as you clearly aren’t following. Arguably, your 18-year-old dumbass self making friends with what I presume is an equally dumbass 19-year-old Brit should not be headline news. But you are the next president’s dumbass son and he is the Queen’s dumbass grandson. So it is, in fact, headline news. Ironically, and I confirmed this with our PR team, after your mom is president, you having a bromance with Prince Henry, especially when you both look the way you do, will be a massive PR win. It would be amazing. It would make the 18- to 49-year-old female demographic swoon and the male demographic secretly wish they were you. Especially if you do outdoorsy things together. But right now, while we are in the thick of a nasty election, where the Republican assholes will fling anything to prevent your mom from winning, this blossoming bromance is a massive fucking problem. Or they are trying to make it a massive fucking problem and we need to nip it in the bud.”

Alex just looked at her slack jawed. “Nip it in the bud?”

“Yes, nip it in the bud! Fix the fucking narrative and make it a non-fucking-thing.”

Alex just stared at her, trying to process what she was saying. “Wait, are you saying I can’t be friends with Henry?” The prospect that that was what Zahra was saying filled Alex with a surprising amount of dread.

Zahra waved dismissively at him while she typed rapidly into her phone. “That is not what I’m saying. As I mentioned, your friendship with his royal dumbass will be a massive boon for approval ratings after your mom is president. As long as you two don’t do anything monumentally stupid.” Zahra’s head snapped up and she looked at Alex right in the eyes. “Remember that I said that so future me doesn’t have to deal with something monumentally stupid because future you is still going to be a dumbass.”

“So, I’m supposed to be friends with Henry, but we are nipping something in the bud? But not us?” Alex was getting very confused. It may be the 9 hours of flying, the minimal sleep he had in the last 24 hours, the sexuality crisis he seemed to be having or a combination of all three, but he really wasn’t clear what was going on.

Zahra just sighed as she looked at him again. “You still aren’t following, are you?”

“Not so much…”

“Okay, I’m going to break this down as simply as I can for you. The Republicans are trying to twist your new bromance into an international incident. Understand?”

“I think so. Still a bit confused on how it is an international incident though.”

“That’s actually the point. Two teenagers watching soccer and having a conversation is not an international incident. You are both still essentially kids and have zero real influence.” Alex opened his mouth to object, but Zahra cut him off. “Alex, seriously, you just graduated from high school. While, for an 18-year-old, your political engagement and understanding of policy is very impressive, you are still an 18-year-old and have no real-life experience. In no way do you have any influence on your mother’s policies. You are an amazing asset to the election team, and everything you do is greatly appreciated, but let me be crystal clear on this: you and your personal relationships have no influence on either of your parents’ work, domestic or abroad, and that is not going to change any time soon.”

Alex felt like he had been sucker-punched. As far back as he could remember, politics and government were how he connected with his parents. Debating the details of a bill, sharing ideas about policy, getting them to see things from his perspective is when he felt closest to them. Both his parents were consumed by their work and he had learned early-on that if he wanted to spend time with them, he had to be just as engaged with politics as them. And he was. He was genuinely so passionate about politics and loved that he got to help shape the future of the country he called home. But apparently that wasn’t really the case and his parents were just indulging him.

“Fuck, Alex, stop looking at me like I just kicked your puppy. Your parents, and I mean both your mom and dad, love how passionate you are about politics. Your mom regularly talks about how amazing a leader you are going to be for this country one day. But, and this is a big but, you still have a lot to learn and a lot to experience before you can be that leader. Can you really name a single political leader that would not get roasted if their children were involved in governing the country they led? The nepotism alone, besides the lack of qualifications, would be completely inappropriate.”

Alex just nodded; he heard what Zahra was saying but it still stung to know just how little he mattered beyond photo ops. But he did hear what she was saying, and was starting to fully get his head around what the Republicans were trying to do. And it was definitely some serious bullshit.

“So what’s the plan Z?”

“Well, first of all, we are not addressing this head on.”

“Huh?”

“If we address this head on, it will look like we are trying to hide something. Hiding actual foreign interference. So instead, we are addressing it in four simple, indirect ways: First, our pundit network is hard at work and will be bluntly saying in different, colourful ways how absurd it is to think two teenagers hanging out could influence an election. The Republicans will bluster the opposite, but we are pretty sure the undecided voters will agree on the absurdity of it. Especially when the media is reminded of just how youthful and immature you both are. Second, we are already working language, both subtle and blunt, into your mom’s debate prep so she can reinforce the absurdity of it next week.”

“OK…” So far it made sense, but he felt like the part that required a private plane hadn’t yet been revealed.

“Third, we are changing your campaigning schedule and speaking notes. You’ll have some emails with the schedule changes and updates to your talking points. We need to shift you away from talking about your mom’s policies and towards lighter fair. Sports, volunteering, energizing the youth vote in superfluous ways.” Alex’s brows furrowed. What he loved about campaigning was talking to people about the things that mattered. The things that impacted constituents’ lives. “Do not make that face, Alex. You cannot be seen right now to have any toe in policy. I know you love that shit, and you are great at engaging with people on it, but that is not what we need right now. We need a light, youthful, airy Alex.”

“Ditzy Alex.”

“Not ditzy, you still need to show you are whip-smart and super charismatic, just on non-political topics only.”

“So basically me, but not me in any way, shape or form.”

“Exactly.”

Alex just nodded, suddenly dreading what the next two and a half months would have in store for him. He then remembered that Zahra had said there were four ways they were going to address the situation. “What’s the fourth thing? The fourth part of the plan?”

“Right, step four is that you are going to tell the press what you and Henry talked about at the soccer final.”

“Are you serious?” Immediately, he felt absolutely not right about this. The idea of sharing anything about he and Henry’s conversations immediately felt like it would be an absolute betrayal and a violation of his own privacy.

Zahra looked taken aback by his reaction. “Of course I’m fucking serious Alex. There has not been a single part of this discussion that I have not been deadly serious about.”

Alex’s brain drifted back to his last conversation with Henry. W.W.A.D? “No.”

“Excuse me?!? Did you just say no?” Zahra looked at him like he had two heads.

“I did. I really don’t feel comfortable telling the press about my private conversations. I also really don’t feel comfortable telling the press about Henry’s private conversations. Plus, we both signed NDAs. So, no.” Alex sat up straighter. W.W.A.D. indeed.

Zahra scowled. “I like how you think you have a choice in this matter. You need to prove to the world that you were being a couple of dumbass teenagers watching sports together. And while this response reinforces to me that you are, indeed, a dumbass teenager, the world is not going to take my word for it. So ‘no’ is not a viable fucking option regarding this matter.”

“No.”

Zahra jumped up from her chair and walked over to the small bar available on the jet. She grabbed a random mini-bottle of liquor, cracked the lid and took a long swig. “Jesus fucking Christ. You are literally going to be the death of me.” Striding back over to their seats and sitting back down, she looked Alex dead in the eyes. “To be clear, this has to happen. You do not have to go into detail. In fact, we don’t want you to go into detail. We want you to just say “Sports, stuff 1, stuff 2, bros, awesome!” in a combination of actual English and whatever Gen Z slang the PR team approves. But it needs to be said. And you will be saying it or risk derailing your mother’s historic election bid over the stupidest fucking thing ever.”

Alex sighed and opened his mouth to say no again, but Zahra cut him off.

“And before you start spouting off about privacy and NDAs again, you should know the Crown is aligned.”

Alex didn’t see that one coming. “What do you mean the Crown is aligned?”

“I mean the Crown is aligned. You think this cluster fuck is just impacting us? We are not the ones being accused of foreign interference, the British Royal Family is. And let me tell you, both the Crown and the British government are pissed. And their press is having a field day wit this crap. We have been back-channeling with them all day through the backest of back-channels and they are completely aligned with this whole strategy. Including the part where it is in their best interest long-term that you and Henry remain ‘bros’. They cannot comment or respond themselves in any way either, but will be deploying a similar if more subtle Step 1 with the British media. And they have already signed off on you breaking your NDA in the most un-detailed, high-level way. So, as I said before, ‘no’ is not a viable option regarding this matter.”

Alex just sat there, staring at his hands. Henry’s words about not having a choice started to take on a new light. He always thought he had a choice. That his choice, and what he wanted would trump anything. But suddenly he was being told that what he wanted to do and what he was comfortable with didn’t factor in at all. Similar to how Henry told him the Crown dictated his life, there was a political machine surrounding his.

Alex looked up at Zahra and sighed. He knew as he looked at her, he was going to be dragged kicking and screaming into making a statement. “OK, I get it. I just need to know one thing; what does Henry think about all of this? Is he aligned?”

Zahra let out a frustrated sigh. “I don’t know why, but Srivastava predicted you would say that and it is really pissing me off that he was right. Henry is probably waiting on your call.”

Alex took out his phone – he hadn’t dared to look at it since Zara’s call earlier. There were now more messages – from his mom, dad, June, Nora, and from random people from high school he barely talked to. The notifications from social media tags were in the hundreds.  But all he cared about were the messages from Henry.

 

HRH Prince Dickhead 💩

Christ Alex, I’m so sorry. All of this is so ridiculous.

I am so sorry.

Alex, not sure when you will see this. Shaan said someone named Ms. Bankston was retrieving you?

This is all such bollocks and I’m sorry I’ve dragged you into this.

Message me when you can…

I understand if you never do though.

 

The last message made Alex’s chest tighten – he hated it. He hated it so much. He hated that Henry would think he wouldn’t want to talk to him because of this crap. Looking at the timestamp of the message, it had been sent a couple hours ago. He hoped Henry was alright and not having a panic attack.

 

Alex

hey

now good to talk?

 

Alex’s phone immediately lit up with a Facetime call. Before answering Alex looked at Zahra. “Some privacy please?”

Zahra rolled her eyes and stormed out of the room. “Fucking teenagers are not what I signed up for with this job!”

Alex accepted the call, his phone filling with Henry’s stressed-out face. “Hey H. Fuck, I’m so sorry about this. This is all my fault.”

“Alex, no, I’m the one who should be apologizing. Your association with me is what has caused all this drama.”

Alex heard a muffled voice in the background and saw Henry roll his eyes. To whoever was off camera, Henry said “Thank-you. I’ll tell him. Now some privacy, please? Shaan felt the need to remind me that it was neither of our faults and the pictures are perfectly innocuous. He said we both need to stop apologizing and get things sorted.”

“He’s probably right, but I’m still so sorry. This is such bullshit.”

“That it is… How are you holding up?”

“I don’t know. It’s all a little surreal that this is such a big deal. Zahra called me as soon as the flight from Rio landed and I really haven’t seen any news or social media other than the pictures. Which are ridiculous, by the way. We are literally just standing beside one another talking. Literally nothing is happening in them.”

“It is absolutely absurd. And the fact that I have spent this entire flight listening to Shaan plot with various members of my grandmother’s team and yours regarding how to make it clear that I am just a useless, clueless teenager has been a form of torture I wouldn’t wish on my worst enemy. Apparently just letting me go to uni and leaving me alone forever is not a solution.”

Alex snorted. “I’ve officially been asked to lean into the superficial jock side of my personality for the remainder of the campaign.”

“Wait, there is a side of you that isn’t a superficial jock?” Henry said with a smirk.

“Ha ha. Seriously, they’ve already changed my event schedule and apparently there are new speaking notes in my inbox. Pretty sure I’m going to hate my life until November.”

“I’m sorry Alex. I know you love campaigning.”

“Yeah, well, I love the idea of my mom being president more… You know they are also making me talk about our conversation at the game? Not the other conversations – they don’t know about those. Just at the game.”

“I’m aware.”

“I just really hate it. I know we didn’t really talk about anything serious while watching the match, but it feels like such a violation of privacy. Your privacy. And I don’t want to do that. I tried to say no.”

“Tried to say no, huh? Well at least I know you live what you preach. Although this may have been starting a bit too big.”

“Yeah, I’ve learned that that seems to be the case. I still don’t like it. I do understand better what you said about not having a choice. Crash course in being a public figure today.”

“0 out of 10 stars?”

“0 out of 10 fucking stars.”

Henry and Alex just looked at each other through the phone.

“So you’re okay with this? About me having to talk to the press?”

“Honestly, I’m not really okay with it. But resigned to the fact that it is a necessity? Yes. If you don’t, they will simply start to make up lies that are far less innocuous than what we really talked about at the game.”

“You’re right. I didn’t even think about that. Fucking media. They will say we were debating the merits of the monarchy verses a republic, when we were really debating the merits of the term fries verses chips. Even though there is no real debate and fries is the only right answer.”

“Incorrect, it is chips as we invented the bloody language. But yes, that does sound exactly like how the press will interpret our discussion if given the chance.”

“I’m not going to give them any significant details about what we talked about. But I’m also not going to make up any bullshit answers to appease my mom’s PR team. Are you good with that?”

“Yes, just, could you maybe omit what I said about how I feel about starting uni?”

“Of course. It didn’t even cross my mind to mention that. You know anything you tell me is between us, right? Locked in the ACD brain vault.”

“I know. I just… I just needed to hear that?”

“I get it.”

More silence, Alex didn’t know what to say but didn’t want to end he call. There was a knock on the door, presumably Zahra was getting restless.

“Shit, I think I have to go. Zahra is knocking on the door.”

“Yes, of course. Will you text me and keep me posted on what the plan is? I know Shaan will also be telling me, but I would like to hear how it is going from you too, if that’s alright?”

“For sure. Same on your side, too, ok? Keep me posted on how things are going?”

“Of course, Alex.”

“But also, like, keep me posted on how things are going for you in general, if you want?”

“I would like that. Same goes for you.”

Zahra was knocking again, this time much more forcefully. “Shit, Zahra is getting really impatient. I think I really have to go now. I’ll message you later, k?”

“Sounds good. Bye Alex.”

“Bye H.”

Chapter 8

Notes:

So I'm shocked at how strong people reacted to the last chapter - I guess it means I'm doing something right with this story? Thank-you to everyone who commented and provided their feedback as seeing people engage with this story is wonderful (although please don't hate Zahra too much - the Republican's are making her life miserable with their BS...)

TRIGGER WARNINGS FOR THIS CHAPTER
Racism (Mary Marying...)

Chapter Text

Henry walked down the long main hallway of Balmoral Castle, Shaan by his side. His flight to London had been diverted several hours in, after the pictures of him and Alex at the football match had gone viral and the media storm began. He had been informed when he landed in Scotland that his grandmother would be expecting him for a meeting first thing in the morning. What he did not expect was that he wouldn’t even be given a chance to have a cup of tea before being ushered out of his quarters by Shaan.

He really couldn’t understand why the world was making such a big fuss out of this. The photos were innocent. Unless… Henry shook his head. There was no way there had been photos taken by the water. If there had been, they would have already been on the front of every newspaper in the world. That moment with Alex, that almost moment, was anything but innocent. At least to Henry. It was singularly the most electric moment Henry had experienced in his nineteen years. And he was almost certain it was reciprocated.

Getting to know Alex the past few days had been unlike anything he had experienced previously. Something inside of him just seemed to recognized the other man and knew that Alex was meant to be one of his people. Talking to Alex was so easy. Alex seemed to understand him fundamentally without even trying, and Henry felt like he understood him in the same way.

At first, Henry had been trying to remind himself that Alex was straight and had a girlfriend. That was until Alex told him that his and Nora’s ‘relationship’ (if it could be called that), had lasted only a few weeks and the media had blown it completely out of proportion. Even though Alex was still straight, Henry couldn’t help but imagine what life would be like with Alex by his side, in one year, in five years, in 25 years. He tried to keep his cool and protect his heart, but he was failing miserably by the time they had met up after the closing ceremony. And then…

Henry flexed his hand – he could still feel Alex’s hand on his. The feeling of the other boy’s touch was permanently seared into his nerve endings. And he couldn’t stop thinking about the look in Alex’s eyes as they had both leaned towards one another –

“Sir, are you ready to join Her Majesty?” Shaan said, snapping Henry out of his reverie. He hadn’t realized they had reached the drawing room his grandmother liked to do business from when at Balmoral.

“Yes, best not to keep her waiting or it will be worse,” Henry said. Shaan just nodded subtly, experienced enough to know any true acknowledgement of what Henry had just said would make it back to the leadership of the Firm given the eyes throughout Balmoral Castle.

Henry took a deep breath, steeled his shoulders, and jutted his chin out before nodding at the footman that stood at the large double doors in front of them. As he walked in, he was surprised by who was in the room with his grandmother. He assumed she would be accompanied by her equerry and maybe the deputy private secretary, but to his shock both the Lord Chamberlain and the private secretary himself were in the room, amongst several other faces he wasn’t familiar with.

“His Royal Highness, Prince Henry,” the footman announced. Everyone but his grandmother stood and bowed their heads. Henry strode over to his grandmother on auto-pilot and bowed his head towards her before acknowledging anyone else in the room.

“Your Majesty.”

“Prince Henry,” Mary said tersely, more formal than she normally would be if the audience was smaller. “Please be seated so we can continue our discussion.”

Henry glanced at the ornate longcase clock that sat against one wall. Shaan had ensured that they were 10 minutes earlier than the time they had been instructed to arrive. “My apologies, I was under the impression that the meeting was to start at eight.”

Mary just looked at him blankly, lips a thin line of displeasure. “The meeting with you is set to start shortly. Do not assume that it is the only meeting that has been required to occur regarding this ridiculous matter.”

“I’m sorry, Gran. I really didn’t think attending a football match could cause so much controversy,” Henry said, hoping that an immediate display of contriteness would lessen whatever verbal lashing and public belittlement his grandmother had planned.

Mary just sighed and looked at Henry with displeasure before turning to her private secretary and saying, “My grandson tends to not think in general, which is why we are in this situation. If you could please provide an overview of the developments since we last discussed this matter yesterday, Sir Fellowes.”

The man in question cleared his throat and looked at some papers in his hands. “Of course, Your Majesty. In liaising with Her Majesty’s Government, the Prime Minister’s Office has confirmed that they are aligned with our initial assessment that acknowledging or responding to the narrative that the American’s Republican Party are attempting to weave about foreign interference in their election would be more tantamount to interference than His Royal Highness attending the football match with Mr. Diaz was in the first place. As such, all members of the government have been instructed to not comment on the matter unless Her Majesty’s Opposition raise the issue during question period.”

“And when they inevitably do that, what will be said?” Mary questioned.

“They will reiterate the same discussion points that we have ensured are predominant in the media today, ma’am. The idea that two teenagers could influence foreign policy or be used as backchannels for their respective governments is ludicrous.”

“And how is the media strategy progressing?”

Fellowes turned to one of the staff members sitting in the background, “Ms. Phipps, an update please.”

The woman stepped forward, glancing at a tablet in her hand as she did so. “Most of the morning programmes have been treating the situation as a joke, as have the tabloids. This seems to be aligned with the discussion on social media, both here and in America. 65% of sentiment is favourable. Only those demographics and profiles that generally support American Republicans seem to have a negative sentiment, and even that is weaker than one would expect it to be based off historic data.

“As I’m sure you are aware, Your Majesty, several newspapers and the main news channels all hired lip reading specialists to dissect the conversations filmed at the match. While the interpretations have varied, each one released has increased favourable sentiment given the subject matter covered beyond football while His Royal Highness watched the game.”

Henry’s head snapped up at that. He had never considered that people would try to read his bloody lips. Trying to keep his expression neutral, Henry clenched his jaw tightly. Despite his best efforts, he could feel his ears and cheeks burning, and he knew his emotions would be on display through what he was certain was a deep blush.

“The conversation topics themselves have already started to trend both here and abroad. The most traction can be seen regarding the debate between the terms chip and fries, which fictional characters would be best at football, and, er,” the woman paused and bit her lip, looking at her supervisor before continuing.

“And, Your Majesty, there does seem to be some traction regarding the topic of His Royal Highness’s right to privacy and not juggling royal duties while in university,” Fellowes interjected. “It should be noted that there is minimal negativity towards the Crown regarding this matter, more the assumption that the Royal Family would never expect Prince Henry to continue acting as a working royal while completing his studies.”

“And that is thought of as positive sentiment, Sir Fellowes?” Mary said before taking a sip of her tea, giving her private secretary a scathing look while she did so. Henry still hadn’t been offered a cup.

“It is, your majesty, as long as the public’s sentiment remains on our side,” the man in question said, looking slightly uncomfortable.

“If I may interject,” the Lord Chamberlain, Lord Ogilvy, said. “It is believed that if, for the time being, Prince Henry’s duties are limited only to major functions until he has completed his studies at Oxford, the public will not only forget this matter but view the Royal Family even more favourably than they already do, Your Majesty. It is our recommendation that Prince Henry stay out of sight until he begins at Oxford in October, and then he focuses on his studies, not making any formal public appearances until Christmas. He will, of course, be candidly caught attending services and laying a wreath on Remembrance Day, and will be with the family for any major private celebrations where comings and goings at Her Majesty’s residences are carefully monitored by the tabloids to determine who is in attendance.”

Mary let out a long sigh, “Utterly ridiculous if you ask me. When did doing your duty become viewed as a burden?”

Lord Ogilvy and Sir Fellowes exchanged a look, likely already having prepared for this reaction. Ogilvy cleared his throat and said, “What if we give it a year and see where sentiment lies at the start of His Royal Highness’s second year in October 2017?”

There was a long pause – several minutes while his grandmother contemplated. He was pretty sure Ms. Phipps and the other more junior staff held their breath the entire time she stayed silent and thought.

“If we must,” Mary said, taking another sip of her tea, a small scowl on her face to communicate her displeasure at even the prospect of a year of Henry not being a working royal, despite both Philip and Bea being afforded just what her advisors were proposing without there being any discussion. Although maybe Henry’s parents had fought behind the scenes for his siblings’ ability to have as normal a university experience as possible, a luxury Henry wouldn’t be afforded.

Mary turned to Henry and looked at him assessingly. “And what was actually discussed with the American?”

The knot in Henry’s stomach twisted more. The last thing he wanted to do was discuss his conversations with Alex with his grandmother, who would likely twist them and colour his positive memories from his time spent with Alex with disdain and negativity. But with the lip readers out there, he knew he couldn’t not answer, so he steeled himself, jutted out his chin and responded in as limited a manner as possible. “I assure you, Your Majesty, nothing of note was discussed. We were mainly watching and commenting on the match. There was of course the discussion of university, as we are both set to start soon, some banter about American versus British terms for things and I believe we did make some jokes about Star Wars.”

“You discussed Star Wars,” Mary said, the look of disapproval somehow deepening on her face.

“Er, yes,” Henry said, one hand’s nails digging into his palm as he tried to stop himself from rubbing the back of his neck nervously. “It seems we are both quite fond of the franchise.”

Mary just pursed her lips tightly and looked at Henry assessingly.

“We have quite a lot in common, actually,” Henry said, trying to fill the silence.

“I should hope not that much in common,” Mary said, her frown somehow deepening. “Nevertheless, as I understand you have been informed it will apparently be in our best interests for you to maintain a friendship with that boy, assuming his mother is elected president of that godforsaken country. Hopefully this will all be forgotten within the year, as the last thing you need is to be associating with his kind. It is bad enough you insist on maintaining your friendship with that Okonjo boy.”

Henry just nodded his head – there was so much he wanted to say. He wanted to say that Alex and him would be maintaining a friendship regardless of what the crown thought. He wanted to call her out on precisely what Mary meant by “his kind”. He wanted to voice that having a man like Percy Okonjo choose to be his friend was an honour and that he was ten-times the person Mary ever could be – both in his intelligence and generosity. He wanted to call his grandmother exactly what she was – a small-minded, bigoted woman that was stuck in the past and would get left behind by the world if she ever let her mask slip and showed the public who she really was. But all Henry could do was nod, and swallow down the bile that was rising to his throat. It was something he had gotten used to doing almost daily since his father passed.

The meeting continued on, but nothing more of note was said. It felt like the only reason they continued to rehash what had happened and the plan going forward was so that Mary could belittle her grandson in front of others. By the end, Henry had stopped listening and had let his mind wander to thinking about how despite the crown’s indignation, spending time with Alex had made him feel more like himself and like maybe there was the possibility of some good in his future for the first time in a long time. So he didn’t care what his grandmother said, or if “the crown” was disappointed. He wouldn’t change a thing about the last few days.

Chapter 9

Notes:

Thank-you all for your continued kudos and messages about this story. I know it is slow-going on the posts (life is still alifing), and knowing there are people who want to see where this story goes really motivates me (and I promise there are some absolutely delicious moments planned). I hope you continue to enjoy.

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

September 2016

Henry sat in front of the poorly tuned piano in Craigowan Lodge, his left arm draped over the fall board, cradling his head. With his other hand, he played a sloppy scale up and down the keyboard.

Henry was bored. Painfully and utterly bored.

He had been at Balmoral for three weeks, having been banished to Craigowan Lodge within days because his grandmother was hosting a shooting party. Apparently the 52 bedrooms the main castle boasted was not enough space to keep him out of sight of her guests and prevent the shame in his grandmother having to explain that he did not shoot. Nor go stalking or fishing.

When Henry was growing up, his parents had never forced him or his siblings to participate in any of the hunting activities that dominated aristocratic country life. All three Fox children had taken after their father – both in their love for animals and getting queasy at the sight of blood. Catherine, who had been shooting birds and stalking deer since her youth found it funny that in real life, Arthur would have failed as James Bond and never tired of teasing him about it. But despite her ease in the act of hunting, it wasn’t something she particularly enjoyed and was perfectly happy to spend her time at Balmoral with the family going on long hikes through the grounds, gardening, and reading for hours in the sun surrounded by nature. Henry would often join her, when he wasn’t with Arthur bird watching by day and star gazing at night.

Bea and Philip were the same – never expressing any interest in the bloodier activities their cousins and other relatives relished. That was at least until Philip turned thirteen and Mary had started to pressure him to get involved in the various hunting activities. She insisted that shooting and stalking were traditional royal activities and it would be “frowned upon by his peers” and “detrimental to his ability to socialize with the right set” if he didn’t participate in such activities. Philip had resisted for a couple years, as he of all three siblings had the worst reaction to the sight of blood, but eventually he acquiesced.

Henry still remembers the first day Philip went stalking – after he returned home that evening, he had remained very quiet, and had disappeared to his bedroom as soon as he could. Later that evening, a 10-year-old Henry had walked past his brother’s room to hear him sobbing and his mother’s soothing voice through a small crack in the bedroom door. Every year since, Philip had participated in both stalking and shooting. However, as Henry had gotten older, he noticed that his brother never suggested the activities himself and it was the one thing he didn’t pressure Bea or Henry to participate in at behest of their grandmother.

Despite the pressure to participate in bloodsports, growing up Henry had loved coming to Balmoral in the late summer. It was the one time of year his entire family was together. There were no appearances (other than attending the Braemar Gathering, which his entire family attended with pleasure as there was no sporting event more fun to watch than the Highland games) and no schedules. They were all allowed to just be. His father always ensured his film commitments never coincided with their time at Balmoral; it was a precious time each year for the entire family.

But his father was gone now, and his mother might as well be gone with him. Bea hadn’t shown up like she was supposed to, and Philip was currently stationed in Singapore with the Royal Navy. Trying to entertain himself with any of the activities the family would have normally done together left him feeling hollow. So instead of going for long hikes or spending his evening behind a telescope, he had been spending most of his time indoors, wandering aimlessly around the rooms of Craigowan trying to outrun the ghosts of his shattered family.

The only bright spot were his conversations with Alex.

It had started with a text a couple days after his lockdown in Scotland had begun. The first message was a stunning picture of a mural in Detroit, depicting a Latino man holding out an apple, many other faces behind him as well as the Mexican flag. Alex had sent a long series of texts about how the street art in Detroit was blowing his mind – the political protests and messages of hope everywhere. His passion made Henry smile and he couldn’t help but ask question after question to hear more of Alex’s thoughts.

Henry had responded back with pictures of the books he was reading (or re-reading) and pictures of random paintings throughout the lodge – they started to play a game of “is it a relative or a rando” (Alex’s suggestion), where Alex would try to determine the origins of the very old, very expensive artwork no one but his family and their staff ever saw.

Their back and forth was just as easy as it had been in person – there seemed to be a never-ending number of topics to discuss, banter to be had, and information to share. He learned that Alex was allergic to dust and Tide laundry detergent (apparently it was called “Daz” in the UK – not that Henry had ever used laundry detergent himself), and his sister was allergic to peanuts. But Alex loved peanuts – so whenever they were in different locations Alex would gorge himself on peanut butter and Thai takeaways that included peanut sauce. He wouldn’t go near anything with peanuts when he was in the same city as his sister though, out of fear of exposing June to even a trace amount. He learned that Alex’s coffee addiction was a bit concerning, based on the number of coffee drinking selfies and critiques of cafés he sent every day. And he discovered that while Alex’s eyelashes were captivating, the dimple that appeared on his cheek when he smiled was his favourite feature of the other boy’s.

He also learned that Alex was undoubtedly becoming his favourite person in the world and he was quite certain he was falling in love with him more and more with every message shared. What he hadn’t been able to learn was if Alex felt the same way. Or if Alex was even interested in men. It was a shadow on his one bright spot if he let himself think about it too hard.

As Henry continued to play his scales, he felt his phone vibrate from where it sat nearby. He instantly popped up and grabbed his phone, a small smile crossing his face as he saw a message from Alex was waiting.

With no context, Alex had sent him a picture of himself standing under what appeared to be a massive rocking chair – probably 4 or 5 stories tall. After several minutes with no more messages from the other boy, Henry had taken the bait and responded.

 Henry

Care to explain?

Alex CD

no throne yr family has can ever beat this beauty

 

Henry’s smile widened. Alex was in a fun mood and it was exactly what he needed.

 

Henry

While I’ll give you points for size, it needs a bit more gold plating and gaudy embellishments to compete with my Gran’s throne.

Alex CD

pfft

yr granny’s throne wishes it was this awesome

ability to rock back and forth on this scale makes this not just a chair but an epic experience

does your shiny little gold throne give an experience?

Henry

I will concede that my grandmother’s throne speeches are not the most titillating experience one could have.

Alex CD

well I promise you this rocking chair is TITILLATING

sidebar: who the fuck uses the word TITILLATING when msging???

 

Henry bit his lip and smirked. It was an ongoing joke they had – Henry would use his soon-to-be literature student vocabulary in messages and Alex would call him out on it.

Henry

Those who are educated and have respect for the English language would.

Alex CD

<eye roll gif>

Henry

So you are in Texas I presume?

Alex CD

???

casey illinois

Henry

Oh, didn’t you recently declare everything was bigger in Texas?

Alex CD

everything that MATTERS is bigger in Texas

Henry

While I agree, thrones, in general, do not matter, you seemed rather invested in the rocking chair one minute ago…

 

Alex CD

whatever your majesty

 

The banter went on for the better part of an hour. Alex sent some more pictures of absurdly large objects and told him stories of some of the other strange towns with gimmicks similar to Casey that he had deep dived on during the one-hour ride to their next campaign stop. He was going to try and convince Zarah to let him visit as many of them as possible over the remaining month and a half of campaigning.

When Alex had to say sign off to go “shake hands and kiss babies” (per Alex), Henry could still feel the smile on his face. His surroundings didn’t feel as grey and the boredom not so choking. For better or worse, Henry was definitely, irrevocably falling a little bit more in love with Alex every day. Henry knew he was probably going to get his heart broken, but at the same time something told him to trust his heart and trust Alex.

Notes:

So, this chapter has so many fun facts:

  • In doing research on Balmoral, I actually found that most sources (true or exaggerated) cited that while at Balmoral in August/September, Queen Elizabeth II and Prince Philip tried to live as "normally" as possible - they would cook themselves (apparently Philip liked to grill). Elizabeth also liked to be woken up by bagpipes. They also generally preferred the 'cottages' on the 50,000 acre estate including the 'modest' Craigowan Lodge with only 7 bedrooms. I basically assume Mary would not have any desire to live 'normally' while at Balmoral, and would actually be a pompous ass about everything and the staff would dread her August/September visits. There would also probably still be bagpipes.
  • The Braemar Gathering is the most prominent Highland games. I feel strongly that Arthur would have loved attending it.
  • Detroit is known for its murals. It has some of the most amazing street art you will see - I strongly suggest googling "Detroit Murals" to see some of the art. The mural I selected for Alex to text Henry seemed like an obvious choice - it is by Elton Monroy Durán and here is a great article about his artwork. I like to think that as part of his campaigning in Detroit, there was outreach to the Latinx community and Alex was taken on a tour of his and other artist's work, and completely fell in love with all of it.
  • Casey, Illinois is a real place and is known for being a "small town with big things". The rocking chair description was not an exaggeration. I actually had a multitude of interesting / strange places and sights Alex could have visited in Illinois - I kind of now want to do a road trip, tbh. Check out this reddit discussion to see a list if you are interested.

Chapter 10

Notes:

Thanks all for the continues support of this story - I love seeing all of your comments and hearing what you think of this story (and where you think it is going)!

You will notice that I have added a new tag to this story - Henry's depression is a theme that really can't be escaped and unfortunately him and Alex forging a friendship (and more) won't erase it. So it will be a theme that is visited and addressed in this story. (as I said in this story, while it is not angst driven there will be highs and lows. we are entering a low period...)

TRIGGER WARNINGS FOR THIS CHAPTER
Depression
Discussion of addiction
Parental abandonment

Chapter Text

October 2016

Henry lay in his bed staring at the band of sunlight on the wall of his bedroom. He had thought the blackout curtains he had put up the week before had been shut tight, but apparently, he was wrong.

He was wrong about a lot of things these days.

He was wrong about his sister’s choices just being a phase she would get through on her own. Things had escalated in the past few weeks and now pictures of Bea with pinpoint pupils and a glazed look on her face hard to pretend wasn’t induced by a combination of booze and who-knows-what were on the cover of every tabloid with headlines that always started with “Powder Princess” describing her latest exploits.

He was wrong about his brother not being a total prick. He had hoped that some shred of the brother he knew before their dad had passed away was still there. But the last few days had shown any sensitivity or compassion his brother used to possess was gone. Not shockingly, Mary had gone apoplectic when the headlines about Bea first came out. She called Philip back from Singapore and he was “dealing with the situation”. In dealing with it, he was entirely focused on what needed to be done to protect the crown, and had not once expressed any concern or care for Bea’s wellbeing. His coldness and disregard for what was best for Bea had crushed any hope Henry had that he would ever get the brother he had before back (that version of Pip had still been a bit of a prat, but did love his family).

What was hardest was that he was wrong about his mum. He had been convinced that when push came to shove, when one of them really, desperately, needed her, that his mum would snap out of her cloud of grief and be there for them. Be the fierce, protective, strong mother she was throughout their childhoods. But when, in desperation, he drove the two-plus hours from Oxford to Clarence House in the pouring rain Sunday evening, to plead for her help with Bea, all he had got was a watery smile and “I’m sure she’ll be fine, sweet boy,” before her eyes drifted back to staring absently out the window.

After that, Henry had folded into himself. He couldn’t bring himself to attend his Monday lectures and had given in to the desire to just stay in his bed and shut out the world that morning. He hadn’t left his room since. He was aware that Pez came to check on him, making sure there was always fresh tea, water, jaffa cakes and other snacks. He also remembered responding to some texts with one-word responses to Philip or Alex if the buzz of messages was persistent enough. But really, he just wanted to be left alone in his grief – not just for his dad but for his family that had officially crumbled around him and wouldn’t be coming back.

It was late Tuesday now and he was starting to come back to himself a bit. He knew he needed to get himself mobile if he was going to attend his lectures the next day; the last thing he wanted was headlines about how he was already skiving at Oxford and was likely to drop out. The wave of darkness that had come over him on Thursday also felt less heavy. It was still there, but he could feel himself getting above it. He just needed to eat something and start moving.

As if Pez could read his thoughts, there was a knock at the door and a mint-coloured head of hair popped through the door.

“Hazza, mate, your up!”

“Hi Pez.”

Pez came further into the room, a tray with a plate of several pizza slices in his hands. It smelled delicious and Henry’s stomach rumbled. He was pretty sure the last proper meal he had eaten had been Saturday.

“I ordered a pizza and thought you might want some,” Pez said, laying the tray down beside Henry on his bed. Henry picked up the plate and inspected the toppings – sausage, mushroom, and red bell peppers – his favourites. Pez loathed mushrooms on pizza.

“There’s plenty more downstairs if you want more,” Pez said, smiling softly as Henry bit into the first slice.

Henry just hummed in response as he continued to eat.

“And I talked to Bernie McAllister-Fitzgerald. You had mentioned he was in most of your courses this term. I told him that you had come down with a nasty bug over the weekend and had missed your lectures the last few days. I said you would never want to impose and ask someone for their notes. He remembers how you were at Eton and understood. Even said ‘that sounds like the old chap’. I know we are toffs, and technically you should be the toffest of the toffs, Your Royal Highness, but I’m pretty sure that statement just made Bernie the toff to end all toffs!” Pez smiled, as he went over to Henry’s dresser and got out some clean, comfy clothes and placed them on the bed. “He has already emailed you his notes from yesterday and today, and asked to pass on well wishes that you feel better soon. Mentioned that they could always use another study group member – it’s him, Alistair Sommerset, and a few of the Marlborough Ellas. So you might want to avoid that study group like the plague.”

“Which Ellas?” Henry said, mouth half full of pizza.

Pez paused and looked thoughtful. “I’m pretty sure he mentioned Fenella Fairchild, Eloise Russell, and Arabella Highgate-Battersby.”

“Christ, I’m pretty sure all three of them enrolled in English Literature with the express goal to marry me.”

Pez just hummed as he collected the half-full mugs that were on Henry’s dresser.

“Well, I’ll leave you to your pizza and rejoining the land of the living, my dashing liege.” Before Pez exited the room, he looked over his shoulder with a sincere look and said, “It’s good to see you up and eating, Henry.”

This pizza and the lectures notes were two more reasons Henry would sacrifice his life for the man that had just left his room.

Henry continued to eat and it really was helping to clear his head. There was still a weight, but he felt like it might be manageable. That’s all he wanted – for it to be manageable.

Before he could tuck in to a second slice of pizza, he saw his phone light up and vibrate with an incoming text. The name that appeared on the screen was Alex, and Henry immediately grabbed it. There were several new messages since his last response the day before, a simple thumbs up responding to Alex’s story about getting hit on by three different residents at a retirement home he visited on a campaign stop (Henry hadn’t had it in him to actually type words).

 

Alex CD

[12:03] morning sweetheart just wanted to say hi

[12:03] or i guess afternoon? fucking timezones 😖😳🤪😵‍💫

 

The next message including a picture of Alex holding two puppies up to his face which had a massive grin on it.

[14:33] got to visit an animal shelter today!

[14:33] so much better than kissing babies

[14:34] not that I actually kiss babies

[14:34] thank fuck

 

The thing about Alex’s messages, when he had dark days, was that Alex continued to text him but never asked anything of him. It was as if somehow the other man was able to tell when Henry just wasn’t up for talking, but continued to send messages so Henry knew when he was ready to talk again, the lines of communication were open. Alex never asked how he was, or why he wasn’t responding. And Alex never circled back on the messages he sent on those days. He just picked up the conversation from where it was at. Although it had never been this bad before, and Henry wondered how long it would be before Alex got tired of his disappearing act. Even in the cloud of depression, something in the back of his head told him “never”.

The latest messages from Alex were more of the same, but definitely caught Henry’s attention.

 

Alex CD

kimmel last night was 🔥🔥🔥

Z even told me “good job”

gonna get the message framed and put it on my wall 😁😁😁

Henry

Kimmel?

 

It was a simple message back, and Henry cringed at the lack of proper sentence structure, but it was more than he had felt willing to respond to anyone since Sunday, so it felt like a victory.

Henry stared at his phone, expecting a rapid response from Alex which was usually the case when he messaged back immediately. The message was showing that Alex had read his response, but still hadn’t started to type back. Henry wondered if this was the moment Alex decided enough was enough. After a long pause that felt like hours to Henry (it had maybe been a minute), the tell tale three dots appeared showing Alex was typing.

And then the three dots just stayed. Whatever Alex was typing was either a long paragraph or he was making a lot of edits. Both made Henry very nervous.

 

Alex CD

So, the campaign had me go on Jimmy Kimmel Live. I think you may have been told about it? Part of the soccergate clean-up plan. Just took some time to schedule as the PR strategists insisted I do Kimmel so I could have a moment with Guillermo where we talk in Spanish and bond over watching hockey.

 

Henry breathed a sigh of relief – other than writing more complete sentences than Henry had ever seen Alex type, he was following his normal M.O. of not acting like Henry had disappeared from their normal never-ending chat for a long period of time. If that was the case, Henry would do the same.

 

Henry

You mean footballgate, dear.

Alex CD

i do fucking not

its fries and soccergate

Henry

You keep telling yourself that, Alex. Is that really going to be the hill you choose to die on?

Alex CD

it will be a glorious death

Henry

If you say so. I presume your visit to Kimmel was a success?

Alex CD

a raging fucking success

 

The message was followed by a YouTube link to the entire interview. Henry clicked on it and tucked into another slice of pizza while he watched. A slice of pizza which he almost choked on when they actually discussed Rio, the football match and him.

 

Jimmy: OK, so I know it’s been a while now, but I’ve got to ask. How did you end up in a box at the Olympics watching the gold medal match with the Prince of England?

Alex: He’s actually a Prince of the United Kingdom and the Commonwealth Realm – so I have been informed by the internet when I said the same thing a few weeks ago. Like, the comments made sure I would never forget hat one.

Jimmy: Should I be afraid.

Alex: Probably a little.

Jimmy: Did Prince Henry correct you? Am I going to get detained and thrown in the dungeons the next time I’m in London?

Alex: Nah – Henry’s a good dude.

Jimmy: A good dude?

Alex: Yup.

Jimmy: So how did you meet?

Alex [with an exaggerated shrug]: We crossed paths at an event the games and just started chatting. I mean, arguably, there were few other people our age where our security allowed us to go, so he had few options but to talk to me. Turns out we have a lot of common and he had just scored tickets to the soccer final and was looking for a plus one.

Jimmy: So you made the sacrifice and attended?

Alex: It was hard, but I did. I still can’t believe I was at that game.

Jimmy: What do you have in common with the prince? Deep discussions about politics and the state of the world?

Alex: Anything but politics! The only politics Henry and I would ever be interested in discussing would be those in the Galactic Empire and the New Republic.

Jimmy: Star Wars fans?

Alex: Obviously… Actually, I guess there was one deep discussion, or more of a debate, we keep going back to…

[Jimmy leaned in, one eyebrow arching waiting for Alex to continue.]

Alex: His Royal Highness believes fries should be called chips. Obviously, he is completely wrong…

 

The interview continued, Alex doing a spot on imitation of his mother that was sure to go viral and clearly winning over the audience while coming off as a charming boy-next-door, supportive of his mother becoming president but diverting any topics that trended towards serious political discussion to lighter fare. There was nothing ingenuine or false about the interview, but Henry could see that there was less light in Alex’s eyes as the interview continued. Having to consciously avoid topics he was so passionate about was clearly taking a tole, even if he was good at masking it.

But now was not a time to bring that up with Alex, now was a time to celebrate his success.

 

Henry

Did you really have to refer to me as a "good dude"?

 

And by celebrate his success, Henry intended to give him a bit of a hard time.

 

Alex CD

i fully understand if you decide to disown me for that

Henry

Disownment is definitely under consideration…

Alex CD

in my defense my mom's PR team originally wanted me to go with BRO 😂

Henry

Christ, if you ever refer to me as bro I will absolutely disown you.

 

The banter continued for some time, helping to lift Henry further out of the darkness that had felt so all-encompassing the past few days. Eventually, Henry even it made it downstairs to eat more pizza and catch up with Pez on the adventures he had gotten up to in his absence. Apparently, Pez was now researching what would be required to get their little Oxford house accredited as an animal refuge.

Things weren’t really alright, but at least he had Alex and Percy in his corner.

Chapter 11

Notes:

As always, thank-you for the continued kudos and comments on this story! Every single one is appreciated!

TRIGGER WARNINGS FOR THIS CHAPTER
Nothing overt, but depression and addiction are present themes in the situation at hand

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

November 2016

Alex stood on the stage, listening as his mother spoke to the massive crowd in front of her. June was beside him, clutching his arm tightly as she cried happy tears. Alex didn’t think it was possible his body could feel as much pride and joy as he was currently feeling. He was completely overwhelmed in the best possible way.

His mother, the next President of the United States of America, the first female President of the United States of America, was delivering her victory speech.

His mother was going to change the world.

Scratch that. His mother had already changed the world.

Alex looked down at his sister, snotty mess with a massive smile through the tears as she listened to their mother talk about the female leaders that paved the path before her that allowed for this moment.

He looked over at Leo, a proud expression on his face but still radiating the calm and stability he always seemed to carry. He nodded along as his mother talked about how she would be a president for all Americans – whether they voted for her or someone else. Leo was the anchor he knew his mother needed to get to this moment.

He looked over to the wings to see Zahra trying to subtly wipe away her own tears, nodding along as his mother talked about the work that they would start immediately – continuing to strengthen the economy and ensuring no one was left behind. Zahra had been by his mother’s side since her early days in the House of Representatives. Alex couldn’t remember a time she wasn’t in their lives. This was as much a victory for her as it was for his mother.

He looked out into the audience in Zilker Park – easily 150,000 people if not more were packed in to the sprawling grounds to celebrate his mother’s victory and be a part of history. He could see his dad standing with Raphael Luna, an up-and-coming politician that both his parents seemed to have taken under their wings. The look of pride on his father’s face, despite the differences and sometimes outright hostility between him and his ex-wife, as his mom talked about unity and how the diversity of America made it stronger, made Alex’s smile even bigger. His parents had put their differences aside the past few months to get his mom elected, and it gave him hope that maybe things would get better between his parents in private as well.

He looked across the stage to where Nora was standing with Mike, her grandmother and parents. Mike was nodding along as Ellen spoke, and Nora, along with the rest of her family, wore their own big smiles as they listened to the speech. But he could see behind Nora’s well-trained media face that her brain was going a mile-a-minute, as it always was. Probably calculating the number of people watching from home and what the most likely reactions would be for of each part of his mom’s speech. By the end of tomorrow, she would have set up a betting pool for all the secretary positions including under-over stats on the likely candidates as well.

The years of sharing his mom with her constituents, the months of endless campaigning, the sleepless nights while they criss-crossed the country, and the last few weeks of him biting his tongue and being only part of who he was – this is why they did it. For this moment. It was all worth it to hear this speech. To see his mom change the world.

He scanned over the faces of the people he loved while his mom finished the speech and his heart felt so full. But… It felt like something was missing. Or someone. It had been like that all night.

When the votes were coming in, and June and Nora where on either side of him watching the counts anxiously, Alex couldn’t help but text Henry a play-by-play. He knew his friend was probably asleep, but it was soothing to send Henry messages as he had done continuously the last couple months. Even when Henry had his offline days, when he responded minimally, knowing Henry was there was comforting. Henry always laughed at his jokes and made Alex laugh with his own dry sense of humour. He also never judged Alex or told him to shut up when he started going on about whatever he was obsessing over in a given moment. They had been talking more and more via Facetime as the fall progressed, and it was one of the only times Alex felt like he could just be himself wholly and not worry about if he was being too much. Even with June and Nora, they would cut him off or roll their eyes and pointedly change the topic when he got too focused on a random tangent. But Henry never did that. And he didn’t just listen, he asked him questions and provided his own thoughts and insights no matter what the topic. Henry made Alex feel seen. And more importantly, Henry made Alex feel safe.

It felt strange not having Henry here to celebrate with him. Even though they had only had one weekend together in person, and had only known each other for a few months, his absence in this moment – the happiest moment in Alex’s life to date – felt tangible. Like the celebration was incomplete without Henry by his side.

Before Alex could get too lost in his musings about Henry, there was a loud pop and red, white and blue confetti started raining down around them. June was dragging him forward as she pulled him into a hug with their mom and Leo.

He squeezed his sister and mom tight, re-focusing on the moment at hand as he heard his mother quietly say “we did it” as she squeezed them back just as hard.

 ※※※

The next day, once Alex had pulled himself out of bed after a late night of celebrating, was quiet. Shockingly quiet. Alex didn’t know what to do with himself. The last few months had been non-stop. If he wasn’t at a rally, a photo op or a voter drive, he was travelling to the next one. He couldn’t remember the last time he had stopped moving. Or the last time he had been left to his own devices without a schedule and someone from his mom’s team hovering nearby waiting to usher him to the next event.

And now, suddenly, it felt like everything had come to a screeching halt. And he was very much alone.

His mom and Leo were gone from the house long before Alex had woken up. Already in meetings about their new roles and planning for January.

June had gone home with Evan from the celebrations the night before. He assumed they were holed up at their little apartment near the UT campus. It had been weeks since June had gotten back to Austin, and he knew she had missed Evan a lot. He was pretty sure June wouldn’t be seen until Zahra forced her out of hiding for some appearance.

And for the first time since his mom had put her hat in the ring to be the presidential nominee for the Democrats, there wasn’t some campaign manager or aide hovering around. He was actually alone in their house (if you ignored the Secret Service agents that were posted outside).

Alex didn’t know what to do with himself.

To make it worse, he still hadn’t heard from Henry. Looking at the messages, he actually hadn’t heard from Henry in a few days. He had just been so hyper-focused on the last few days of the election he hadn’t realized it.

 

HRH Prince Dickhead 💩

[Nov 5 2016 3:32 PM] Do promise you will stay hydrated the next few days.

Alex

[Nov 5 2016 3:32 PM] 👍

HRH Prince Dickhead 💩

[Nov 5 2016 3:33 PM] And not just with coffee.

Alex

[Nov 5 2016 3:33 PM] 🙄

HRH Prince Dickhead 💩

[Nov 5 2016 3:33 PM] I expect photographic evidence.

 

The last text he had received from Henry had been Saturday afternoon. Since then not a peep. Henry had gone from chatting away to suddenly silent. It was out of character. Normally, when Henry had his offline days, there were hints they were coming. Henry’s response times would lag, he would make less jokes, and when he did respond to messages, answers would be shorter. Alex had learned that Henry would be offline for a day or two at most, still giving cursory yes or no responses and then suddenly he would be back. Back to making jokes, and talking with Alex about whatever random topic Alex got started on like he hadn’t disappeared for twenty-four hours or so.

This was different. On Saturday, the messages had just stopped. No build-up to going offline like there normally was. No shorter responses or lack of jokes. Henry went from giving him a hard time about his coffee consumption to nothing. Not even anything for the election win. Henry had made the effort to watch and text his support after all three of the debates his mom had had faced off in. He had sent him several articles he had come across about his mom and the election. To suddenly go completely dark and not message after his mom actually won didn’t make sense. It was out of character.

Alex was worried. There was a voice in the back of his head telling him that maybe Henry had just gotten tired of him and left like everyone else did. But his gut and his heart told him that wasn’t the case. Henry wouldn’t do that, ever. Not to Alex. What they were building… Alex didn’t quite know what they were building, and he hadn’t had the time with the intensity of the campaign to really think about it, but he knew they were building something. It just remained to be seen what.

Henry wouldn’t just ghost him. Not like Liam. Not like Jess. Not like his Dad. Alex knew that with absolute certainty. He trusted Henry more than he trusted anyone outside his immediate family – in some ways even more than his family. And for Henry to just suddenly go dark, it worried Alex. Something was most definitely wrong.

But what could Alex do? It’s not like he could call up Buckingham Palace and ask to talk to Henry. And he didn’t have a way to contact Shaan. He just wanted to know that Henry was okay and hopefully caught up in some random royal duty that made him not able to check his phone.

But who could he reach out to? Who would know?

Henry was like him – very few friends, he only really ever mentioned his best friend Pez.

Pez… Percy Okonjo. Heir to Okonjo Industries and crazy rich. Also with an impressively growing social media presence. Currently Henry’s roommate at Oxford. If anyone would know if Henry was okay, it would be Pez.

Alex grabbed his phone and opened up Instagram. It was a shot in the dark, but maybe Percy would see a DM from him and respond. He had to try.

When Alex pulled up Percy’s profile, he was surprised to see the suggestion to “Follow Back” the other boy, not just follow. He hadn’t realized Percy had started following him. Alex immediately clicked “Follow Back” and then went to DM him.

 

@theagcd

Hey, I know this is probably super random. This is Alex Claremont-Diaz. My mom just got voted in as the next President and I’m Henry’s friend.

I was hoping you could help me with something?

 

Alex bit his lip. He put down his phone, expecting a long delay if he was to get any response at all. It was going to be torture waiting. He started tapping a heel against the floor nervously, trying to figure out what else he could do.

Before he could get to far with that thinking, his phone lit up and buzzed. When he grabbed it, to his shock, it told him he had a new message from @likethesweets.

 

@likethesweets

Alexander!

At long last we meet!

Hazza has told me so much about you I feel like we are already dear friends

I’ve been following you and your delightful sister the last few months of your election with rapture

I’m absolutely joyous that your mother was victorious!

 

Alex froze. He really didn’t expect such a warm response. He wasn’t going to let the moment he had Pez’s attention pass without finding out how Henry was doing.

 

@theagcd

hey

thanks for responding so quickly

@likethesweets

Of course, darling!

Any friend of Hazza’s is a friend of mine

Mostly because I am our social coordinator so I am very intrigued by Henry choosing to bring you into the fold 😉

What can I help you with?

@theagcd

this is probably a little random and I really don’t mean for it to be creepy but is H ok?

its just I haven’t heard from him in days

i'm worried

 

While it indicated that Pez had read his messages, he didn’t respond. Several minutes went by and Alex wondered if maybe Henry had intentionally ghosted him, and now Percy was too. Before he could spiral too much, his phone lit up with a call from an international number that looked similar in format to Henry’s.

Alex answered, hoping it would be Henry at a different number, maybe at Pez’s behest.

“Hello?”

“Alexander, is that you?” A smooth, posh British accent that was most definitely not Henry came through the line. There was noise in the background, it sounded like there was music with a heavy drumbeat was playing nearby. “This is Percy Okonjo. But you can call me Pez, like the sweets.”

For a moment Alex was shocked. How did Pez get his number?

“Uh, hey. This is Alex. How did you get my number?” Alex said, his brain to mouth filter were clearly misfiring from the shock of Pez suddenly calling.

“While Hazza has MI6 and you have whatever the American version of that is at your disposal, I have the ability to serve my dearest best friend one too many G and Ts and knowledge of his phone’s passcode. I decided it might be best to have your phone number in case of emergency.”

“Emergency?”

“Yes, I assumed the emergency would be either fashion related or me having to threaten you for poor behaviour towards my dear liege, but I believe the current situation is far more dire.”

The last few words made Alex’s stomach drop. Far more dire. Fuck.

“What do you mean far more dire? Is Henry in trouble?”

“Well that’s the thing, strumpet. I fear he might be. I’m not in England right now – I’m back in Nigeria. My dear Nanna passed away and I’m at the funeral celebration. I flew out last Friday and Nanna’s celebration is for the rest of this week. I didn’t realize it, but I haven’t heard from Henry since Saturday.”

“I haven’t heard from him since Saturday either. I know he goes offline sometimes, but not so suddenly.”

“His dark days have been getting worse as of late, haven’t they? Are you aware of everything going on with his sister?”

Alex paused. Henry had talked about it a little bit but it was one of those topics he would mention, but then change the topic quickly before he talked in too much depth about it. Alex had seen some of the news coverage (he may or may not have added a Google alerts for news about Henry and the royal family). He knew it was a bad situation.

“A little, but I didn’t want to press him on it,” Alex said, being honest.

“And I’m sure Hazza appreciated you not doing so. But in the last couple weeks, it all seems to have been coming to a head. Philip even flew in from Singapore. I fear shit has hit the fan, as you Americans like to say, and now Henry has gone dark and is all alone.”

Fuck. Pez’s words made Alex’s worry for Henry grow exponentially. One thing Alex had figured out about Henry in the few months he had known him was that Henry felt things very deeply. He tried to mask it, but the closer they got the more Alex saw the depth of Henry’s emotions. He was a passionate person. He had strong opinions, loved romance if his discussion of Austen and other authors from the Romanticism period (a term Alex had learned from Henry) indicated anything. But that also meant Henry felt sadness and other dark emotions just as deeply. And that made Alex very worried that Henry was alone if things had gotten really bad with his sister. From everything Henry had told him about this brother, Philip would just make things worse.

“Shit, what can we do?”

“Would you be willing to go check on him, Alexander?”

Of course he would, but that didn’t seem very realistic. Henry was across the ocean from where he was. “I mean, yeah, but I don’t think I could. I’m in Austin.”

“That’s what, a 7 hour flight?”

“Probably closer to 10. But, like, it’s not like I can just jump on a plane and go there,” Alex said, thinking about the very low balance in his bank account. And the Secret Service agent he would have to bring along. And the pictures that would inevitably be taken of him in the airport. He wanted to, desperately, but it didn’t seem possible.

“You can’t? Why not?”

“Well, honestly, I’m kind of broke. I am wholly dependent on the banks of mom and dad. And they would so not be down with the attention me jumping on a flight to London would bring.”

“Hmmm…” Pez said with a long pause before speaking again. “Hold on one moment, strumpet.”

Alex could hear murmuring in the background but couldn’t make out what was being said. After a couple of minutes, Percy’s voice came clearly back on the line.

“Right, one of our planes is in Teterboro. Baba said you could use it. I told him I was worried about Henry and he immediately agreed you should pop over to check on him. Baba and Arthur got along splendidly and since his passing my father has felt like he needs to watch out for Henry as one of his own, so it is no bother to use a plane to do just that. He’s already reaching out to his assistant to coordinate getting the jet to Austin.”

“What do you mean plane? Like private plane?” Alex said, not believing what he was hearing.

“Yes, of course private. And before you object, keep in mind we are insanely wealthy and Henry is like a brother. We also make sure to make donations through the Okonjo Foundation to offset our carbon footprint with every flight, and this one will be no different. A private flight will allow for your security to travel with you and privacy – a concern for you, I assume?”

Alex didn’t know what to say. Before he could respond, Percy continued.

“Get yourself ready to go, Alexander. I’ll text you with the airfield and timing of when the jet will be in Austin as soon as I know them. And please do keep me updated with how Hazza is. I’m very concerned. I’ll also let Shaan know you are on your way.”

Alex guessed he was going to London. His mom was going to kill him. Best to tell her only once he was in international airspace.

Notes:

Notes/Fun Facts

  • Zilker Park is a massive park in Austin - I think this is where Ellen would have delivered her victory speech very similar to Obama's speech in 2008 at Grant Park in Chicago. I imagine it would have been packed - and every woman in the audience would have been crying tears of joy. I know I would have (and I'm not even a American).
  • Yes, I know you assume that Alex and Percy would be primarily on Tik Tok and you are not wrong. But in November 2016, Instagram was the thing. Tik Tok only was released in the U.S. in 2017 and became big in 2018. So Insta would be their social app of choice in November 2016.
  • I'm assuming Pez is Yoruba. It is common practice (according to Google) for Yoruba funerals to span a week and be a celebration of the person's life with feasts and dancing. I assume Pez comes by his flamboyance and joie-de-vivre  honestly through his parents and grandparents, so his grandmother's funeral would be epic.

Chapter 12

Notes:

Note - this is probably the heaviest chapter in the story (but, honestly, not as heavy as the trigger warnings make it sound, imho).

TRIGGER WARNINGS FOR THIS CHAPTER
Depression
Depression room
Suicide (touched on in a discussion, not in regards to Henry)
Addiction

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

Alex got off the Okonjo family jet feeling more refreshed than he thought he could after a transatlantic red-eye. He had been on private jets before, quite a few times since his mom became a presidential nominee (and now president! – a thought that still blew his mind), but he now realized the private jets he had flown on before were as utilitarian as private jets could be. They were still way nicer than most commercial flights, but they were practical and a necessity for his mom – not a luxury like the Okonjo plane.

The plane was possibly the most luxurious place he had ever spent an extended period of time. From the butter leather seats to being served the best sashimi he had ever tasted, the flight was an experience. He had thought he had known wealth – attending fundraisers thrown by his mom’s wealthier supporters and Leo had millions – but he was pretty sure he had miscalculated the difference between having millions and billions. The world Pez and Henry lived in was totally different than the world he knew.

As he walked down the stairs and exited the jet in the private hanger it had pulled into, another difference was waiting for him. Since his mom had started her campaign, he was used to people being around all the time, managing his schedule and ushering him around. But they were campaign employees and making sure he had and did what he needed to support the campaign was where it started and finished. Henry, on the other hand, had Shaan. His equerry. A literal personal attendant that managed not only his schedule but his life. And Henry thought nothing of it. When Alex had asked him about it, having an equerry was a given to Henry. It was normal, and something he expected when he turned eighteen. Shaan had previously been his father’s equerry and he had known him half his life. Henry had even complained (softly) that as of this fall, he had to share Shaan with his sister, as neither of them were active working royals. And apparently his sister’s previous equerry had “not worked out”. That was what Henry found irregular – having to share a personal assistant at nineteen. Not simply having a personal assistant at nineteen. Alex had enjoyed, and planned to continue to enjoy, ribbing him about it. But the reality of what it meant that Henry had an equerry in the first place was finally sinking in. Alex was totally out of his depth in the type of wealth his new friends had, and probably always would be. It didn’t matter though. Henry was one of the most down-to-earth and kind people he knew, and the billions, while mind-boggling, didn’t change that.

“Sir, welcome to England,” Shaan said, stepping forward with a woman in what looked to be a customs officer’s uniform. “Senior Officer McDougal will process your passport here so as to maintain the discretion of this visit.”

“Hey Shaan. Hi Officer… uh,” Alex said, fishing his passport out of the back pocket of his jeans and handing it over.

“Sir. Can you please state the purpose of your visit? Is it personal or professional?” the officer asked, a schooled expression on her face.

“Uh, personal… I’m, uh, visiting a friend,” Alex said awkwardly, realizing he didn’t know what he could and couldn’t say.

“And how long will you be visiting Great Britain?”

Alex’s eyes widened – he hadn’t thought that far ahead. The plan was literally to get on a plane and get to Henry. Beyond that, he figured he would play it by ear.

“I believe Mr. Claremont-Diaz will be departing back to America by the end of November at the latest,” Shaan said, clearly recognizing Alex’s expression for what it was.

“Yeah, definitely by then. My mom would kill me if I missed Thanksgiving.”

The officer just nodded, opened his passport to a page and stamped it with a stamp that seemed to materialize out of nowhere. She then turned to Cash and started asking him the same questions. It was less than a minute before she was walking away and Shaan was ushering him to a waiting car.

Cash settled in front with the driver, while, to his surprise, Shaan settled in the back with him and immediately raised the privacy screen between them and the front seat.

“It will be approximately thirty minutes to His Royal Highness and Mr. Okonjo’s residence in Oxford, sir. I hoped we could have a word briefly on the way.”

“Sure, but please call me Alex,” Alex said, knowing Shaan would ignore the request. The looked Shaan gave him confirmed that.

“I wanted to thank-you for coming so quickly to see how His Royal Highness is doing,” Shaan said, a serious look on his face. “He has spoken very highly of you and is grateful for your friendship. I have been up in Manchester since earlier in the week, helping Her –” Shaan paused, catching himself before he continued. “Helping with other matters that needed my attention.”

“It’s no problem. Henry would do the same for me. I just hope he’s okay,” Alex said, feeling uncomfortable reading between the lines and knowing that Shaan’s been distracted by whatever is going on with Henry’s sister.

“I just,” Shaan paused again, swallowing uncomfortably. “I just would like you to know that had I been aware that His Royal Highness was –” he paused again and furrowed his brows. “I worked with His Royal Highness’s father, the Duke of Sussex, for a very long time. He was not only my employer but became a very dear friend. And I need you to know that supporting and protecting His Royal Highness and his siblings is an honour I take very seriously. Had I been aware that His Royal Highness was not well and that Mr. Okonjo was indisposed, I would have never left him unattended as I have.”

Alex nodded his head, processing what Shaan was saying. The guilt the man felt was palpable in the other man’s voice. “I know Henry pretty well, and I know a bit of what is going on with his sister. I’m pretty certain if you were not with Henry for why I think you weren’t, you were exactly where Henry would want you to be right now.”

Shaan just nodded. “Please just let me know if there is anything I can do to provide support during your visit.”

Alex nodded back, not really knowing what more was to say to the older man. He looked out the window, watching the grey November scenery wiz by as they headed towards Oxford and Henry. A silence overtook the car that he had no desire to break. He just wanted to get to his friend and see if he was okay.

※※※

The house was eerily silent, save for the muffled noise of what sounded like Shaan giving an earful to the PPO that had been stationed outside about not having raised any concerns when he nor the other officers assigned to Henry had not seen their charge in several days. Alex was standing outside the bedroom door Shaan had told him should be Henry’s. He had tried knocking, but there had been no response. He cracked the door open to peak in and was taken aback by what he saw.

The room was very dark, the only light from a small crack in the curtains. As his eyes adjusted, he could make out a Henry shaped lump under several blankets on the bed. The room surrounding the lump was a mess – there were half drunk cups of water and mugs on every surface; dirty clothing, additional blankets, books, used tissues, snack wrappers, and other random things were scattered across the floor and piled on parts of the bed.

It was all so unlike Henry – he was always impeccably groomed and whenever they had video chatted from what Alex could see, the spaces he inhabited were also always neat and organized. This was the polar opposite; it was the outward manifestation of what Henry must be feeling and it broke Alex’s heart to see.

“Henry, hey, are you awake?” Alex asked quietly, not wanting to wake his friend if he was sleeping. The lump on the bed moved and seemed to roll over, but he still couldn’t see his friend’s face. “Henry, it’s Alex.”

A head of greasy hair appeared from under the pile of blankets. Henry looked even paler than usual, with deep dark circles under bloodshot eyes as he looked towards the door. “Alex, is that you?”

“Hey sweetheart,” Alex said, the nickname slipping out naturally. It felt right to call Henry that.

Henry pulled himself up into a sitting position in his bed, still looking at Alex like he was looking at a ghost. “What are you doing here?”

“I hadn’t heard from you in a while and wanted to see if you were alright. Pez flew me out. Can I come in?”

Henry just rubbed his face one hand and continued to look confused. “Yes, of course. Are you really here? Didn’t we talk, just the other day?”

Alex walked into the dark room, being conscious to only leave the door open a crack so he could see where he was going but not overwhelm Henry with the bright light from the hallway. He made his way around the debris on the floor and over to the bed, where he sat down and leaned against the headboard beside Henry like he had done it a million times.

“We talked on Saturday; it’s now Thursday sweetheart.”

“What? No. Christ, Alex. I missed –”

“Don’t worry about it, H. I’m just glad to see you are here and in one piece.”

“God Alex, but this week, your mother, the election…” Henry said, looking distraught.

“Seriously Hen, do not worry about it. It was an election – my mom won, and there will be another one in four years. What matters to me is how you are doing,” Alex said, and even as he said it, he realized it was true. While he did care about the election, his mom’s presidency, and his country’s political direction, none of it mattered in comparison to how much he cared about how the man in front of him was doing. That was what really mattered to Alex. It took seeing Henry in person to realize the fundamental truth in that – nothing mattered to Alex as much as Henry did. It was a realization that was both terrifying and liberating. “You are what matters to me Henry.”

“Really?” Henry said, sounding small and unsure.

“Really, sweetheart. So, please, tell me what is going on. And if I can help, I will. And if not, can I at least be a shoulder for you to lean on?”

“God, I don’t know why I’m like this,” Henry said, wiping tears from his eye that he was clearly trying to stop from falling.

“Like what?”

“A total bloody mess. I should be happy, or at the very least relieved right now.”

“What happened?”

“Bea is finally in rehab,” Henry said with a long sigh.

“That’s good, right?” Alex was confused, from everything he knew, Henry’s sister getting the help she needed should be a good thing.

“It is and you would think I’d be relieved, and I am, but I’m also…” Henry paused, and started crying again. “It’s all so much, Alex. Philip flew back from Singapore, and he was just so cold about everything. Like Bea should just snap out of it. He and Gran forced her into a car and into a facility up north, calling it a wellness retreat. He wouldn’t even acknowledge that our sister is an addict. That was Saturday, and by the end of the day she had already checked herself out and there were shots on Twitter of her dancing on a table at some nightclub in Chelsea. And then she was calling me, completely out of it and saying I was the only one who really cared, and that I was the only one that would miss her and at the same time saying I needed to have more fun. It was terrifying. I jumped in my car and drove into London immediately, found her sitting on the back steps of some club in a disgusting alleyway, high as a kite with sick all over her. I just sat down next to her and cried, telling her she wasn’t allowed to kill herself because Dad was gone and I was gay and I didn’t know what the hell to do without her.”

Henry was sobbing. Alex just looked at him with wide eyes, his heart breaking for the other boy.

“And then she hugged me, and said she wasn’t going anywhere. She checked herself back into the rehab Sunday morning, Shaan went with her to help her get settled properly and make sure everything was okay.”

Henry paused, wiping the tears from his eyes.

“And you would think I would be relieved. Even happy my sister was finally getting the help she needed. And I am, I am so relieved and so glad she is somewhere safe after so many months where I was terrified for her. But instead of feeling good about that, I feel hollow, utterly exhausted and like there is something dragging me down that I just can’t shake. I feel so terribly alone, Alex. And that those few people – you, Pez, Shaan – that are around me would leave if you saw this is how I really was. And if you knew that,” Henry paused, eyes widening. “Oh Christ, and I just told you that I was gay.”

Alex chuckled and reached out and entwined his fingers tightly with Henry’s hand that was closest. “You did, sweetheart. Although I did suspect. Thank-you for trusting me with that part of you. Thank-you for trusting me with all of that. I’m,” Alex paused. He didn’t know what he was and he knew now was not the time to make the discussion about himself. But he also knew it was important to also acknowledge his own identity. “I’m really proud of you for sharing that about yourself with me. And, honestly, I’m still trying to figure out what I am. But I promise you that you will be the first person to know once I do figure it out,” Alex said, squeezing Henry’s hand pointedly before he continued.

“I think it was really fucking brave how you helped your sister. And what you’re feeling now, and what you have been feeling is not wrong. You have had to carry so much on your shoulders, Henry. So much. I can’t imagine what you’ve been going through with all of this. Just know that I’m here, and I’m not going anywhere. You are not alone and I’m here however long you need me.”

Instead of responding, Henry melted into Alex with a sob. Alex wasn’t sure how long they sat there, but it was a long time. Even after Henry had fallen asleep, crying himself into exhaustion, Alex sat there. And he vowed that he would never let Henry feel like he was going at it alone again.

※※※

Over the next few days, most of Alex’s time was spent just being there for Henry. Talking when he wanted to talk, sitting in silence when he wanted to sit in silence, and cooking him food he thought would be comforting (his abuela’s chicken pozole, heat level turned way down, was a big hit). He helped Henry clean and organize his room, and teased him about the number of Pride and Prejudice copies he had brought with him to university.

When Pez returned home on the Sunday evening, Henry’s room was clean (and Henry was showered), and while still not okay, he was starting to come back to himself. For the next week, Henry went to class when he felt up to it and when he didn’t, the three of them spent their time in the living room, watching The Great British Bake Off (Alex had strong feeling about the Baked Alaska Fiasco and Pez had strong feelings about some of Paul Hollywood’s judging) and talking about everything and nothing. Sometimes the conversations were serious – frank discussions about Henry’s depression and anxiety, Pez wondering if he would be able to make an impact even close to what his parents had accomplished, and Alex talking about how he spent so much energy trying to fight against his racing brain, forgetfulness and getting so focused on one thing that he lost all sense of time. Abut how most people told him he was too much. Sometimes the conversations were ridiculous – whether cereal could be considered a soup and whether an orangutan or gorilla would win in a face off (a binge watch of the two recent Planet of the Apes films had subsequently occurred – Alex still thought chimpanzees should also be in the running but the other boys strongly disagreed).

What Alex had realized midway through his visit was that Henry Fox and Percy Okonjo were his people. Like June and Nora. He thought like Liam, until suddenly he wasn’t. But that was the thing – he thought like Liam, but realized his friendship and fondness for his new friends was so much stronger than any of his friendships from high school, including Liam. Spending time with Henry and Pez was so easy – like they were pieces from the same puzzle. He knew down to his bones that Pez was going to be a friend for life. And Henry…

Well, even the thought of Henry made him smile. More than smile. When Henry looked at him with a gummy smile that he finally got to see again as they got later into the first week of him there, he was pretty sure he felt his heart grow a size. When Henry leaned into him and rested his head on his shoulder while they watched a movie, Alex could feel it for hours after and it was the best feeling ever. That this boy, this beautiful, perfectly imperfect boy, wanted to rest his head on Alex’s shoulder, of all people’s. It blew his mind and felt so special. Alex still wasn’t sure what he identified as, but he definitely wasn’t straight. Because one thing he was certain of, was that he wanted to kiss Henry’s face off (and so, so much more).

But now wasn’t the time. What Henry needed was friends. Friends he could lean on and knew he had the support of. Between the binge watching of tv and movies, the silly conversations and the deeper talks, the three of them had formulated a plan to get Henry some help. The kind of help Alex and Percy knew they weren’t capable of providing.

With Shaan’s assistance, who provided a level of efficiency that would even impress Zahra, they had found Henry a psychiatrist – someone unassociated with the crown and that was willing to make house calls. Shaan had also walked Henry through his own finances and the trust fund he had been left by his father, explaining how and what he needed to do to keep any expenses separate and not visible to scrutiny from the Firm. Shaan had already reached out to Percy’s father to coordinate finding some financial advisors that had the capabilities and discretion to manage Henry’s wealth independently from the Crown.

Henry’s first appointment with his new psychiatrist had been less than two weeks after Alex arrived. The appointment had left Henry in a dark mood, but Henry also said he was hopeful. He like his new doctor and her approach, and genuinely believed that with her support, as well as Alex’s, Pez’s and Shaan’s, that things for him would improve.

Alex believed it too. He just wished he could stay longer. But as predicted, his mother had given him a deadline of returning to Austin by Thanksgiving (“Diaz, if your ass is not in a chair at my table shoving your mouth full of turkey on November 24th, I’ll ensure the Secret Service never lets your ass out of that chair for the next four years.”) Alex had delayed flying home until early the Thursday morning (thank good for the time zones being in his favour and continuing to fly private), and had immediately texted Henry to check in once landing stateside.

Thanksgiving was fine (mainly because his dad did not join the Claremont side for this particular holiday, so the Claremont-Diaz throw-down was on ice until Christmas), but Alex’s mind was back in Oxford. He knew Henry had Pez and Shaan to support him, and was getting the help he needed, but Alex still worried. He also missed his friends, especially Henry. Alex felt immediately lonely without the other boys, and while it was great to catch-up with June, part of his mind was always on Henry. He was starting to suspect that might be a permanent state of mind for him.

Notes:

Thank you so for your ongoing support of this fic - your comments and kudos mean the world to me. I actually said this in response to one comment, but I think it is important to say this hear as well. At it's core, this is a story about trajectory and how if one thing changes, one bit of additional support, at an earlier time occurs, your trajectory in life in the long run changes significantly. So while Henry's present is still close to cannon, the presence of Alex by his side so many years sooner is going to significantly change his trajectory and I can't wait for you to go on this journey with me (Alex's trajectory is changing too!)

 

I think it is important to talk about Henry's "cocoon phases" a bit more realistically than him just staying in bed for a couple days - depression rooms are real, and dark, and can make it all the harder to come out of a depressive episode without support.

 

Fun Facts

  • So this is what I'm thinking for the Okonjo family jet - obviously, Percy had a hand in the interior design.
  • I literally googled the UK boarder patrol ranking system so I got it right - here's the wiki if you are as unhinged as me and want to learn more