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Rating: Explicit

Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply

Category: M/M

Fandoms: Red White & Royal Blue - Casey McQuiston, Red White & Royal Blue
(2023)

Relationship: Alex Claremont-Diaz/Henry Fox-Mountchristen-Windsor

Characters: Alex Claremont-Diaz, Henry Fox-Mountchristen-Windsor, Beatrice Fox-

Mountchristen-Windsor, Shaan Srivastava, June Claremont-Diaz, Percy
"Pez" Okonjo, David the Beagle (Red White & Royal Blue), Philip Fox-
Mountchristen-Windsor, Queen Mary (Red White & Royal Blue),
Catherine Fox-Mountchristen-Windsor

Additional Tags: Sexual Tension, Romantic Angst, Workplace Relationship, Mutual Pining,
Idiots in Love, Lust at First Sight, Flirting, Porn with Feelings, Porn
With Plot, Dirty Talk, feminization kink, Dom/sub Undertones, Explicit
Sexual Content, Top Alex Claremont-Diaz, Bottom Henry Fox-
Mountchristen-Windsor, Bisexual Disaster Alex Claremont-Diaz, Gay
Disaster Henry Fox-Mountchristen-Windsor, POV Alternating

Language: English
Stats: Published: 2023-10-12 Completed: 2023-12-23 Words: 72,507
Chapters: 10/10 Comments: 1,867 Kudos: 4,761 Bookmarks:
1,417 Hits: 124,350

I Knew You Were Trouble When You

Walked In
doeyedgirlyevil

Chapter 7: Love
Summary:
"I'm fine."

"You could've fooled me, poppet," Percy teased. "You've been sulking all
night."

"I have not been sulking," Henry snapped. "I just have a migraine."

Notes:
Consider this chapter a big thank you hug for all the serotonin and validation
y'all continue to bury me under. And an advance apology because the next
update might take a tiny bit longer than my usual 4-5 day pattern (don't
worry, not TOO much longer) since I'm chasing a deadline on another writing
project irl.

I said earlier that I'm just a girl with a hyperfixation and insomnia, and that
has never been more true. My dark circles have dark circles atp, so if I don't
slow down a little, I might collapse.
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

The world had known Arthur Fox as an ideal. A dream. Unattainable. The quintessential movie
star with an aspirational life and covetable career. Henry had known him as flesh and blood.
Warm. Accessible. Human. Smelling like Christmas pudding and home.

Once when he was ten, Henry had tried to scratch Bea's cat, Gingerbread, behind the ears
only to get violently scratched across his arm in return. He knew it didn't mean anything. Cats
were just like that. It did, however, give him pause every time he saw the prickly creature —
or any cat for that matter — thereafter.

Inexplicably one day, despite all Henry's attempts to avoid him, the ferocious feline hopped up
gracefully on Henry's knee and curled up on his lap, purring his way into a nap. Henry had sat
frozen, unsure of how to extricate himself from under the orange menace with small knives
for fingers.

Arthur had chuckled at him, perched casually in his favourite armchair by the fire.

"Don't turn so hastily from affection, my love," he had said. "For too many are doomed to
traverse this life without ever having the privilege of experiencing it."

Henry had said nothing in reply. He appreciated his father attempting to impart deeply
philosophical existential wisdom, but it felt incredibly misplaced to Henry when the cursed
furball on his lap had drawn blood the last time they interacted. And so Henry remain frozen,
his hands planted frimly by his sides, meticulously avoiding touching Gingerbread as he
slumbered, oblivious to Henry's reticence.

And so Henry found himself again, frozen, hands at his sides, afraid to move a muscle in the
off chance that it might upset whatever delicate cosmic balance had made Alex say — almost
say — what he said.

He saw his panic reflected in Alex's eyes, but he knew that there were issues more pressing
screaming at him for attention. There was a beat of deafening silence in the room before
Henry took a deep breath and turned back towards his now openly seething grandmother
glaring daggers at Alex, literally clutching her string of pearls between her fingers.

"Mr Claremont-Diaz will remain in his position as my equerry," Henry stated decisively,
sounding far calmer than he felt.

"That is not your decision to—"

"And if you attempt to terminate his employment ever again," Henry continued like she hadn't
spoken. "If I hear of him — or anyone he cares about, for that matter — getting so much as a
paper cut at your hands? Every godforsaken press outlet in this country will receive an official
statement that your grandson is a raging homosexual, a card carrying member of the rainbow
mafia, as gay as a bloody maypole, DO I MAKE MYSELF CLEAR?"

Mary looked like Henry had struck her, rage and blatant disgust dominating her features.

"You wouldn't dare," she spat.

"Are you really in a position to risk finding out, Your Majesty?"

She flinched at his use of her formal title over "Gran" and a buzz of petty satisfaction coursed
through Henry.

"By all means," Henry added. "Try me. If you dare."

At that, her shoulders slumped, the fight appearing to abandon her body, though her face
remained frozen in outrage and indignance.

"It would appear I have no choice but to comply."

"It would," replied Henry shortly.

She flinched once more, her voice tight when she spoke, venom lacing every word.

"Very well. But do not mistake my compliance for my approval. You do not have it. You will
never have it."

Henry laughed cold and humourless.

"I have neither sought nor desired your approval for well over a decade, ma'am. You may
keep it, buried as it always has been beneath the infinite depths of your cruelty and
prejudice."

Henry reached a hand blindly behind him and immediately felt it being enveloped by the
familiar warmth of Alex's large palm, their fingers intertwining. Mary placed a hand on her
desk, leaning on it as though she suddenly needed the support.

"Never did I conceive living to see this day come to pass," she muttered. "A son of the
esteemed House of Windsor, cavorting with a—"

"Choose your words very carefully, Your Majesty," Henry cut her off, his voice fire and ice in
equal measure. "You've witnessed just how sensitive I can be about perceived slights aimed at
Mr Claremont-Diaz. Who knows what further disrepute it could drive me to bring down upon
our esteemed house?"

That shut her up. Literally. Her jaw snapping together with a small "clack" of teeth.

Sensing the wretched conversation was finally at an end, Henry turned to see Alex gazing at
him in abject wonder with more than a hint of heat peppered through it. He moved to pull his
hand free, but Alex held firm. Henry felt himself flush.

"Would you by any chance care to get out of here, noble sir?" Henry murmured, a smile
playing on his lips.

"I thought you'd never ask, my liege," Alex replied, the heat in his gaze now unmistakable.

They strode hand in hand out the door without a backward glance, but they didn't get far
down the corridor before Henry heard Philip calling after him. Warily, Henry slowed to a stop.

"What?" he snapped at his brother.

Philip said nothing for several moments, staring at Henry and Alex's clasped hands with a
strange look on his face.

"I... I thought... I didn't—"

"Hurry it along, Pip" Henry felt exhausted.

Philip looked up at Henry, the same strange expression colouring his features.

"I didn't know, all right?" he finally said, a beseeching edge to his tone. "I thought perhaps
this was another one of your fanciful, ill-advised, self-destructive forays into—"

"Philip."

"I didn't know that you were in l—"

"Could we perhaps not do this — whatever this is — right now?" rushed Henry, knowing
exactly what Philip was about to say, but remembering the panic in Alex's eyes from earlier. "I
think I've had more than my fill of family time today."

He felt Alex's hand squeeze his lightly. His heart lurched.

"Right," huffed Philip. "Right. Yes. Fine."

With that Philip turned on his heels and headed back towards their grandmother's office. Not
having the bandwidth to examine his brother's bizarre behaviour any further, Henry gave into
the tug of Alex's arm, following in his wake.

They had barely turned the corner before Alex stopped, glanced around the empty corridor
and Henry found himself swiftly shoved up against the wall with Alex's lips crushed to his.
Henry groaned into his mouth as Alex kissed him with a single minded ferocity, his tongue
gliding against Henry's, his hands everywhere as though unable to decide where they wanted
to be the most.

"Alex," Henry gasped, detaching their lips, which only resulted in Alex dragging his mouth and
tongue down the line of Henry's throat. "It's only a ten minute ride back to Kensington, love."

Alex whined a sound of protest against Henry's neck before pulling back to look at him, lips
swollen, hair dishevelled, devastatingly sexy as ever. Henry's knees grew unsteady and he felt
glad for Alex's hands grounding him, bruising his hips in a death grip.

"That's ten minutes longer than I'm capable of waiting right now, Wales," Alex replied, his
voice all husk and temptation.

As if to emphasise his point, he ground his hips against Henry's. Henry stifled a moan, letting
his head fall forward onto Alex's shoulder.

"Come on," whispered Alex, his breath tickling Henry's neck, triggering goosebumps. "This
place has like eight hundred rooms. Take me somewhere."

And Henry. Well. Henry was frankly feeling extremely inclined to desecrate the sacred halls of
Buckingham with a bit of scandalous gay debauchery.

A couple more corridors and a staircase later, he pulled Alex into one of the hideously gaudy
guest bedrooms. Wasting no time, Alex walked him backwards, shoving him down to sit on
what was no doubt an antique chaise lounger, before dropping to his knees on the floor and
situating himself between Henry's thighs. Realising exactly what Alex intended to do, Henry
tilted his head back, staring helplessly at the ridiculous gilded ceiling, drawing long breaths
into his chest to steady the alarmingly spiking rhythm of his heart.

"Not gonna look at me, princess?" Alex enquired, an amused lilt to his voice.

Henry heard himself make a somewhat human and definitely embarrassing noise as Alex
dragged his hands hypnotically up and down Henry's thighs, fingers digging ever so slightly
into the flesh of them. Henry's eyes snapped shut.

"Alex... you don't... you don't have to—"

"Look at me, sweetheart." His hands rested on Henry's knees, thumb rubbing soothing circles
over them. "Please."

Entirely unequipped to resist that tone, Henry snapped his eyes open to glance at Alex. He
gazed up at Henry with the softest kind of teasing smile. The kind of smile that had a secret
hidden in its curve, waiting to be discovered.

"First things first," said Alex firmly. "I fucking want to, so jot that down."

"You—"

"What's really important here, though... like really fucking supremely important, is whether
you want me to."

Henry felt a hysterical laugh bubble out of him as he stared at Alex in abject disbelief.

"Alex... love, you are aware of how terribly, horrendously, distractingly attracted to every
single thing about you I am, are you not?"

"You're not subtle, princess." Alex's smile turned positively wicked, his hands sneaking back
up Henry's thighs.

"And given said terrible, horrendous, distracting attraction, it would logically follow that this,"
Henry gestured at Alex. "Is something I want, to a frankly concerning degree."

"God, I love it when you talk dirty to me." Alex bit his lip, definitely holding back a laugh.

"Shut up!" Henry groaned.

"Yeah, uh huh, just like that, baby."

And that shouldn't in fact have done anything for Henry. It shouldn't have. Alex was joking.
Teasing him. Laughing at him even. And yet Henry's dick didn't seem to have received that
memo, throbbing painfully in his trousers at the mere rasp of Alex's voice. His hands flew to
Alex's shoulders, gripping them hard.

"Wait, really?" Alex cocked his head to one side, smirking as his hands moved to brush
against the juncture of Henry's thighs. "That wasn't even some of my best work."

"You're a danger to society," Henry muttered darkly. "You should be locked up."

"Kinky."

Henry leaned forward, determined, looking Alex square in the eyes.

"Alex, if I had three wishes right now, all three would involve my cock in your mouth. Are we
clear?"

"Well, then rub me thrice and call me Genie, sweetheart," drawled Alex with a cheeky wink
and Henry tried desperately not to think too hard about how absurdly attractive it all was.

If Henry had expected Alex to get right down to business in all his wild enthusiasm, he was
spectacularly mistaken. Alex spent an inordinate amount of time mouthing at his clothed dick
and sucking bruises into his thighs, until Henry was reduced to a delirious, babbling mess
before Alex had ever even got his lips around him.

And when he finally did — oh, when he did — it obliterated every fantasy Henry had ever
dared to have. Alex started slow and teasing, suckling and licking just the tip, swirling his
tongue around the shaft, teasing the slit. All while lazily fondling Henry's balls like it was a
bloody side quest. But just as Henry's moans and desperation started to climb, Alex swallowed
down almost his entire length without warning, a hand around the base, sucking him off like
he had written the fucking manual.

"Fuck, fuck — nghn-God — yeah... just like that."

The more vocal Henry became, the more determined Alex seemed to be to suck his soul out
through his dick. Working his lips and mouth and throat overtime to drive Henry to madness.
Unable to resist, Henry traced the line of Alex's mouth with his fingers, feeling how it was
stretched taut around his cock, drool dribbling down his chin. It was obscene.

"Ah-Alex... I'm close, love," Henry warned.

Alex simply hummed and glanced up at Henry through hooded eyes, a smirk dancing in their
lust addled depths. And it was all too much.

"Fucking eyelashes," Henry gasped before grabbing a handful of Alex's curls and exploding hot
and hard into his eager mouth.

Alex choked a little at first, but somehow kept his mouth studiously glued around Henry's
cock, working him through the aftershocks, only pulling off when Henry tapped his shoulder,
whimpering at the oversensitivity.

Henry slumped back against the back of the chaise, panting, wrecked, feeling like he might
have astral projected at some point.

"Guessing this means I'm not half bad at that," Alex joked, his voice sinfully raspy and raw.

Henry came back to himself just enough to grab Alex by the collar and pull him up into a slow,
filthy, open mouthed kiss, groaning as he tasted himself on Alex's tongue.

"You... you're so... fucking Christ, Alex."

The smile that put on Alex's face was almost shy.

"Yeah, well, you deserve it after what you did, sweetheart."

"What I did?" Henry looked at him confused.

"Bursting into that office to save me? Standing up to your grandmother for me? Threatening
her to protect me? You knight in shining armoured the fuck out of that shit, baby."

"Well," said Henry sheepishly. "I did have ulterior motives. I couldn't let her take you away
from me, now, could I?"

"Which is super fucking hot, in case you were wondering," stated Alex matter-of-factly. "You're
just lucky I didn't jump you right then and there."

"You are a cretin."

"A cretin who had you speaking in tongues just a few minutes ago, princess."

Henry had no answer for that except to duck his head, blushing furiously.

"God," murmured Alex, running the back of his knuckles reverently against Henry's flushed
cheek. "I love that I can do this to you."

Love.

There was that word again. Henry looked up at Alex, wondering whether he even remembered
what he had said. Almost said.

It had been a week since the Love Confession That Wasn't and if anybody questioned Henry's
methods of dealing with the fallout — or the distinct lack thereof — he'd tell them to go fuck
themselves.

He had practically veered into gaslighting himself. Wondering whether he had imagined the
whole thing. Wondering whether he had misheard the sentence. Wondering whether he had
misread the signs. Wondering what else Alex could possibly have been about to say instead.

And that's how a stormy Friday evening saw him holed up in his study Googling "words that
start with LO" like that was a completely rational thing to be doing and an entirely productive
use of his time. It was somewhere between "locust" and "lobotomize" that a knock sounded at
his door. He snapped his laptop shut immediately.

Christ. He was going to have to scrub his search history. Or burn his computer.

"Who is it?" he called out warily.

"Just someone with dreamy eyes and an ass you could bounce a quarter off," came the reply.

Henry felt the air around him instantly crackle with energy, his lips stretching into what he
imagined probably looked like a delirious smile.

"Come in, love."

"Did you leave your phone in your room again?" asked Alex as he stepped into the room,
closing the door behind him. "You weren't answering."

Henry looked around his desk and felt his pockets.

"Damn, I think I did. Was there something you wanted, darling?"

In lieu of an answer Alex approached Henry straddled his lap, and dropped himself down on it.

"Just you," he murmured, nuzzling Henry's nose, holding his face in place. "I missed you."

Henry noticed Alex's curls were damp, fresh out of a shower. Henry also noticed that Alex
smelled intoxicatingly divine. He leaned forward to bury his face in Alex's neck, inhaling
deeply. He felt Alex's shoulders shake slightly with laughter.

"Are you smelling me, Your Highness?"

"It's your fault," Henry mumbled against Alex's skin. "Christ, I could eat you up."

"For the record, I wouldn't be opposed to that."

Henry shivered, pulling back to look at him.

"Is your mind always in the gutter?"

"In general maybe ten percent of the time," Alex answered conversationally, stroking his
fingers up and down the curve of Henry's neck. "Around you, sweetheart? I'd say it's a solid
sixty-forty split. Seventy-thirty on a good day."

Henry rolled his eyes, biting back his smile.

"Is that why you're here on your day off? To have your wicked way with me?"

"You say that like you don't love it."

There was that word again. Only not quite in the context Henry wanted to hear it. He let out a
frustrated groan and let his head fall forward onto Alex's shoulder.

"Baby," cooed Alex immediately, running his fingers through Henry's hair. "What's wrong?"

"It's stupid," Henry muttered.

"Why don't you let me be the judge of that, hmm?"

For a long moment they stayed that way. Henry's head on Alex's shoulder, his fingers tracing
Henry's scalp before Henry finally spoke.

"Did you change your mind?" He kept his head down, unable to meet Alex's eyes, hating how
fragile he sounded.

"Change my mind about what?"

"It's just... last week when confronting my grandmother you... you almost said a certain thing
and then... never tried to say it again, so I thought perhaps—"

"Baby."

Alex grabbed Henry's face, lifting it off his shoulder to look him in the eye. Henry saw none of
the judgement or amusement he expected to find on Alex's features. Instead Alex was... well,
Alex was looking at him like he hung the bloody moon. Henry's stomach gave a familiar
flutter.

"The only reason I stopped short that day was because I fucking panicked," said Alex. "That it
was too much, too soon. That I'd scare you away. And because the circumstances didn't
exactly scream romance."

Henry tightened his arms around Alex's waist.

"And then later when Philip was about to say the same thing about us, you couldn't seem to
interrupt him fast enough. So, I took the hint. That it wasn't something you were ready to
hear."

"And what if I am?" Henry whispered.

Alex didn't waste a second.

"Then, Henry, you should know without a shadow of a fucking doubt that I mpfff—"

Before Henry fully processed what he was doing, his hand shot up seemingly of its own
accord, clamping itself over Alex's mouth. He felt uncomfortably hot all over, his heart racing
eratically in his chest. A persistent voice clawed at his head. That he and Alex were
precariously balanced on the barest of precipices and the tiniest tug in any direction would
send them hurtling off the edge.

Alex had gone completely still on his lap, eyes tracking Henry's face keenly. Slowly, Henry
lifted his hand away. Alex grabbed his wrist and brought the hand back to his mouth, placing a
soft kiss, the lightest brush of his lips, across Henry's palm.

Henry surged forward, enveloping Alex in a tight hug, nuzzling into his neck, willing the tears
not to fall.

"I'm sorry," explained Henry into Alex's shoulder. "You may have been... not entirely wrong
about me not being ready to hear it. I'm sor—"

"Hey, shhh." Alex caressed Henry's back in soothing circles. "There's nothing you need to
apologise for, sweetheart."

"Christ, I'm such a mess," Henry huffed bitterly. "I just hope you can be patient with me,
love."

Alex tightened his hold on Henry instantly.

"Baby, I promise," Alex whispered, his breath tickling Henry's ear. "I'll be as patient as you
need."

And Henry didn't cry. He didn't.

"I suppose I wanted reassurance that you still... that you still felt that way. And then I
wouldn't let you reassure me. I know I must seem crazy."

"Pshhh, you're not crazy. Crazy hot maybe." Alex punctuated the statement by blowing a loud
raspberry against Henry's neck.

Henry jerked away, extricating himself from the hug, a breathless giggle bubbling out of him.
As the laughter subsided he looked up to see Alex tugging the silver chain that hung around
his neck over his head. With no explanation, he put it on Henry, tucking it under his shirt till
the cool metal of the key sat directly against his chest.

"What's this for?" Henry asked.

"Reassurance," Alex replied, shrugging bashfully.

Like it was nothing. Like it was simple. Henry didn't trust himself to speak, so he opted for
cradling Alex's jaw to place a tender kiss against his lips instead. He could feel Alex smiling
into it. Everything in him ached.

"Besides being crazy hot," whispered Alex seductively. "I have it on good authority that you're
also... crazy ticklish."

"Alex, no—"

But it was too late. Alex dug his fingers into the sides of Henry's ribs, reducing him to a
squealing, wheezing, wriggling disaster. Needing to catch his breath, Henry grabbed Alex's
hips firmly, pulled him in till they were flush against each other and bucked upwards. Alex's
hands immediately fell away, bracing himself against Henry with a gasp.

"Dirty move, princess," Alex groaned.

Henry used the lull to shove Alex up off his lap before standing to back away from him,
laughing.

"You know all about dirty moves, don't you love?" coaxed Henry, feeling bold.

A playful smirk lit up Alex's face. A dangerous one. He advanced on Henry with purpose in his
eyes and within seconds had Henry caged in against the bookshelf with nowhere to run.

Henry leaned back to look at Alex, granting himself the luxury of letting his eyes roam all over
the exquisite man in front of him. Because he could do that now. He was allowed. Alex was in
one of his unnecessarily form fitting black T-shirts paired with the jeans that hugged his ass in
all the right places.

Henry had no doubt that Alex knew exactly how arresting he looked on a daily basis. For he
carried himself with the casual confidence of a man who knew exactly the effect he had on
people and absorbed that knowledge with effortless ease. It was as infuriating as it was
intoxicating. And Henry was intoxicated. Drunk on all things Alex with no sobriety on the
horizon.

There was a vein that ran delectably from Alex's forearm up the toned curve of his bicep.
Henry tracked it with his eyes before reaching out to trace it with his fingertips, but Alex
grabbed both his wrists and pinned them above his head. Henry made a noise about as
petulant as a toddler whose favourite toy was snatched away.

"Alex, darling. What are you doing?"

Alex transferred his grip of Henry's wrists to one hand, bringing the other down to cradle
Henry's jaw, thumb brushing his lower lip. The knowledge that just one of Alex's hands could
wrap easily around both his wrists was doing heady things to Henry's already semi-hard dick.

"Just thinking about the last time we were standing here," Alex replied deceptively casually.
"In this exact spot."

He leaned forward to blow on the juncture of Henry's neck and shoulder. Henry shivered.

"How you wouldn't let me touch you," Alex continued, his voice a low, deep rumble. "How
you'd only let me whisper ungodly filth in your ear till you were dripping in your pants."

As if on cue, Henry could feel himself harden to full capacity while Alex mouthed his way up
the side of Henry's neck, stopping just beneath his jaw to bite hard. Henry whimpered
uselessly, his hips bucking.

"How fucking gorgeous you looked." Alex licked the shell of Henry's ear and nibbled lightly at
his lobe. "How just looking at you, panting, moaning, turned on, almost had me coming un-
fucking-touched."

Henry leaned forward to capture Alex's lips, but Alex only allowed the contact for a few
seconds before pulling back. Henry whined, and Alex huffed out a husky laugh. The bastard
laughed.

"Rules, princess," he murmured, tightening his grip on Henry's wrists. "You won't touch me.
Understood?"

Henry nodded weakly. He could already feel himself leaking.

"Good boy."

Fucking Christ.

The wave of arousal which coursed through Henry was so intense that he felt his entire body
shudder involuntarily. Alex smirked, raising an eyebrow.

"You like that?" he whispered, drawing Henry's lower lip into his mouth, bruising it with his
teeth. "You like when I tell you what a good boy you're being for me?"

"Yeah... oh fuck."

Alex palmed Henry's sensitive dick through his trousers, alternating between light and strong
pressure, diving Henry insane.

"So hard already. Wonder if you're wet, too."

Alex leaned down to suck a bruise just below Henry's collar bone, while simultaneously
unbuttoning and unzipping Henry with one hand. Henry tried very hard not to think of the
dexterity that took when Alex let out a whistle.

"Fuck, look at that," he rasped in awe.

Henry followed his eyeline to see him staring fixated on the wet spot blooming on Henry's
underwear. Henry held his breath as he watched Alex's fingers push their way under the hem
of his shirt, dragging his fingernails over Henry's navel before skirting the waistband of his
briefs.

When he eventually pulled Henry's cock out, after what felt like a torturous amount of teasing,
wrapping his hand around it firmly, Henry's head fell back against the shelf as he willed
himself not to come, not ready for it to be over. Alex used the opportunity to attach his lips to
Henry's exposed neck, while his hand smeared precum down Henry's length, before beginning
to stroke him hard and fast.

In the haze of overstimulation, between Alex's mouth on his neck and Alex's hand on his dick,
Henry didn't even register Alex releasing Henry's wrists to get his own cock out of its confines.
Until he felt it brush up against his own. The slide felt slick. Divine. Henry moaned, gripping
the shelf hard above him.

"You close, beautiful?" Alex breathed against Henry's neck. "You always get so vocal when
you're close."

A breathless whimper was all Henry could manage in response. Alex thrust his hips at exactly
the right angle for their dicks to continue sliding against each other, keeping that up for a few
exquisite moments before wrapping a hand around both of them, jerking them off at the same
time.

"Fuck... fuck, Alex," Henry whined. "Let me touch you... I n-need to — ah — touch you."

Alex leaned back to look at Henry, watching him with a single-minded focus that was almost
too much as he continued to work his hand rapidly over their cocks. He gripped Henry by the
back of his neck to keep his head steady, looking him directly in the eye, and what he said
next had Henry biting his lip hard enough to draw blood.

"Beg."

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

Henry felt his back arch instinctively, his voice breaking on a sound so obscene that he felt
himself blush hotly from head to toe.

"Come on, princess," Alex panted. "Beg me for it, and — fuck — I'll give it to you."

Henry couldn't resist a second longer. How Alex had survived their last rendezvous in the very
same spot without touching him was a mystery to Henry because Henry was damn near going
to die.

"Please. Please. Please, Alex. Oh f-fuck... please let me touch you. I'm — ghuh-going insane.
Please. Pl—"

With an indecent groan, Alex crushed his lips to Henry's. He then grabbed Henry's hand,
pulled it down to his ass, and encouraged Henry to squeeze. Taking the hint, Henry brought
his other hand down to do the same till he was gripping Alex hard enough to leave bruises.

A loud knock sounded at the door.

They both froze. Alex's hand still wrapped around their lengths. Their mouths detached, but
hovering over each other. Out of breath. Panting.

"Who is it?" Henry asked, trying to sound as normal as was possible when you held handfuls
of Alex Claremont-Diaz's ass.

The door was closed, but very much unlocked and Henry prayed to whatever gods existed that
whoever was on the other side wouldn't attempt to open it.

"Er... sorry, mate, should I come back later?" came the voice of Tom Lewis, an old Eton
classmate Henry had invited over for dinner to catch up.

A meeting he had entirely fucking forgotten about in a haze of lust fuelled insanity.

Alex moved to take his hand away, but Henry grabbed his wrist swiftly to keep him exactly
where he was. Alex stared at him, a clear question in his eyes.

"Don't stop," Henry whispered.

Alex bit his lip hard, eyes stormy pools of unfiltered arousal, his head falling forward onto
Henry's shoulder. He began to stroke again, keeping his pace torturously slow.

"I thought we were on for half past seven," Tom continued.

Henry glanced at the clock, trying to keep his breaths steady as Alex dragged his thumb
arcross both their slits before speeding up his strokes. He was already 20 minutes late. Fuck.

"Yeah," Henry answered, hoping it came out sounding steady and not breathless. "We were.
Just... just lost track of time. Got caught up with some... work."

Alex was jerking them off in earnest again and it was all Henry could do not to scream. He bit
down onto his tongue, but it was no use, a muffled moan escaped him.

"Ah... right," said Tom, a telling awkwardness entering his tone. "I'll just go... wait downstairs
then, shall I?"

Henry was long past caring where Tom waited. He felt the telltale coil of pleasure building,
about to snap.

"Yes. W-wait downstairs. I'll... be there in... five minutes."

Whether or not Tom took the hint to make himself scarce, Henry neither knew nor cared. Alex
leaned into his ear to whisper "Come, princess" and Henry's body responded like his voice had
flipped a switch. He jerked and shook wildly, spilling over onto Alex's fist, gasping for air. Alex
followed him mere seconds later, biting into his shoulder to stifle a groan.

As soon as they caught their breath, cleaned up, and tucked themselves back into their
trousers, Alex's lips were on him, fierce and unyeilding. He was kissing Henry in a way that
Henry knew meant he was unbearably turned on. Wet. Sloppy. Lewd. None of the control or
coordinated, deliberate finesse he usually displayed.

Henry decided then to send Tom an apology fruit basket. Because he knew for a fact that the
poor sod would be waiting a tad bit longer than five minutes.

Henry was fine. Just fine. He was in New York for the opening of the Okonjo Foundation's first
North American youth shelter. Alex was in Texas with his family for Christmas break. And that
was fine.

"I'm fine."

"You could've fooled me, poppet," Percy teased. "You've been sulking all night."

"I have not been sulking," Henry snapped. "I just have a migraine."

"Yes, those do tend to come with withdrawal symptoms."

"That's absurd. I am not addicted to Alex."

"Who said anything about Alex?" Percy grinned at him.

Henry's shoulders slumped in defeat. He tugged uncomfortably at the ridiculous mask on his
face. In true Percy fashion, his idea of an opening night party was a masquerade ball. Not that
he'd ever admit it to Percy, but in truth there was something liberating about being able to
hide his face and go unrecognised. Well, half his face. He'd barely walked off the plane before
Percy was throwing a Phantom Of The Opera mask at him, insisting there was no getting out
of attending the extravagant affair.

Percy himself sported a more traditional Venetian style of mask, but Henry was relieved to
find he wasn't the only one forced into donning a fictional reference. He'd spotted two Zorros,
at least four Ghostfaces, and one Darth Vader in a ballgown.

"Cheer up, darling," Percy said, interrupting his reverie. "You never know. You might just find
someone tall, dark, and handsome to snog tonight yet."

Henry frowned at Percy, confused. Percy knew that he and Alex were together. It wasn't like
him to suggest that Henry engage in some sort of casual hook up with a random stranger
while in a relationship. Putting it down to one too many cocktails, Henry drained the sickly
sweet concoction in his own glass and stood from his seat.

"I'm going to step outside for a bit. I need some air."

To his relief, Percy made no arguments and let Henry head unimpeded toward the balcony of
the penthouse. Once there, Henry inhaled a deep breath. The winter air was sharply cold, but
crisp and refreshing. He looked around to find the balcony entirely empty, nobody else
deranged enough to leave the cozy warmth of the apartment to brave the frigid elements
outside.

Well, almost nobody. Just as Henry leaned on the railing, looking out onto the expansive
skyline, he heard soft footsteps approaching. He turned to see a tall man in a black suit and a
black cape, donning a Guy Fawkes mask. He came to a stop at the railing right next to Henry
despite there being an entire balcony's worth of real estate to occupy.

Henry took a subtle step sideways to put some distance between them. The man closed the
distance, so close now that his shoulder brushed Henry's.

"I'm sorry but could you—"

Before Henry could finish the sentence he was faced with the man silently holding a hand out
to shake Henry's. He was wearing black gloves, leather. Probably a good idea Henry thought
as he suddenly became acutely aware of his own fingers starting to feel numb. Warily, he
shook the man's hand briefly. For several moments, the man did nothing and said nothing. He
simply stared silently at Henry. It should've been disconcerting — the man could've been an
axe murderer for all Henry knew — but Henry inexplicably allowed the scrutiny for a few beats
longer before speaking.

"Er... is there something I can help you with or?"

The man didn't speak. He simply pointed to Henry, then himself, and made what were
unmistakably dancing motions with his arms.

Oh. So that's what this was about.

"Thank you, but I don't dance" Henry offered decisively. "If you'll excuse me I really should be
getting back inside."

Henry moved to walk past the man, but he stopped Henry with a hand on his arm. It wasn't
forceful or threatening, more just a hand placed lightly on his arm than anything. The man
even paired it with a cock of his head to the side in a way that seemed to say "Please?"

"Look, I'm flattered, but I have a boyfriend."

"And he made you go stag to a party? Sounds like a dick."

Henry's heart raced at the sound of the man's voice. His very warm, very deep, very familiar,
playfully flirtatious voice that Henry would've recognised in his sleep. A breathless laugh left
Henry's throat.

"Alex?"

The mask was swiftly lifted over his head and discarded to reveal a devilishly grinning,
devilishly handsome Alex. He wasted no time caging Henry in against the railing with his arms
on either side and kissing him hot and slow. Henry looped his arms around Alex's neck, as
their tongues met in a familiar glide and something inside Henry, something that had felt
adrift all night, anchored itself firmly back in place.

"I'm sorry, sir," said Alex, finally pulling back. "But I don't think your boyfriend's gonna like
this."

"Well," replied Henry, arms still around Alex's shoulders. "He's not here, so I suppose you'll
do."

Alex laughed, loud, uninhibited, and carefree. Suddenly Henry couldn't feel the cold anymore.

"You're supposed to be in Texas."

"I was. About four hours ago."

"How did you—"

"A certain millionaire friend of yours thought you could use the company tonight."

"Percy," said Henry as everything suddenly clicked into place. "I should've known."

"I have to head back tomorrow morning, though, so this is a one night only type deal,
Cinderella."

"Whatever could we do in one night?"

"I could think of a few things," Alex murmured, nudging Henry's nose with his.

"Where are you staying?" Henry asked.

"Same hotel as you, sweetheart. I just need to shower and change out of this and I'm all
yours. I swear I still smell like the plane."

"You flew here wearing this?"

"Not the mask obviously, but everything else yeah. A kid thought I was a magician. Asked me
to pull a bunny out of her hat."

Henry simply grabbed him by the lapels and tugged him forward, silencing him with a kiss.

Waiting for Alex to shower, change, and make it to Henry's suite turned out to be torture.
Henry paced restlessly beside the bed, an idea formulating in his mind that refused to let go.
He grabbed his phone.

Henry hit send on the messages before he could overthink it, immediately tossing the phone
aside and burying his head into a pillow. It was fine. He and Alex had discussed this. He had a
copy of Alex's test results on his computer for Christ's sake. And yet nerves fluttered in his
stomach.

In case you need further incentive to hurry up, I officially have a clean bill of health.
And an obscenely large king sized bed.

No reply arrived, and Henry began to panic that he had horribly miscalculated. Five minutes
later, however, Henry opened the door to his — frankly ridiculous — presidential suite, to
reveal Alex, out of breath, panting, looking by all accounts as though he'd run there.

Six minutes later found Henry pushed up against the very same door, being kissed to within
an inch of his life.

Ten minutes later found Henry's buttons clattering across the extravagant marble floor as Alex
ripped his shirt open, entirely disinterested in proper disrobing technique.

Twenty minutes later found Alex — still panting as hard as when he first arrived — kneeling on
the king sized bed behind Henry, their naked bodies glistening with a light sheen of sweat.
Alex held Henry upright with an arm locked around his middle, chest flush against Henry's
back, thrusting into him slow and steady.

"God... Henry... baby, you feel—"

"Good?" Henry breathed, reaching a hand behind him to palm Alex's ass, feeling the muscles
contract in time with his thrusts.

"Fucking sensational," murmured Alex. "Better than I ever dreamed."

"You... ah — dreamed about this?"

"Dreamed about it. Woke up — hah- hard as a fucking rock because of it. Fucked my fist
imagining it. Take your pick, sweetheart."

Henry's stomach clenched and fluttered.

"Me too."

"Yeah?" Alex slightly increased the pace of his hips, breath heavy against Henry's ear. "Did
you touch yourself thinking about this, baby? My bare, unsheathed dick splitting you open?"

"Yes... God, yes."

"Suck," Alex demanded, pressing two fingers to Henry's lips.

Henry obediently drew the digits into his mouth, swirling his tongue around them in the way
he knew Alex liked. Alex pulled them out quickly, however, using the spit-slick fingers to rub
and tease Henry's nipples. Henry shivered in Alex's arms, unfiltered, electric pleasure flowing
through him.

"F-fucking Christ, Alex."

Alex huffed out a breathy laugh against Henry's neck.

"So fucking responsive, princess."

Henry could feel himself leaking, making a bigger mess of his thighs the longer Alex kept up
his minstrations.

"God, I fucking love how sensitive your tits are." Alex swirled his fingers around one languidly.
"So hard... so erect... and I'm barely even touching them."

Henry let out a desperate half-sob before turning his head to capture Alex's lips. It was more
a messy, wet, tangle of tongues at that angle than a kiss, but it had Henry gasping into Alex's
mouth, every nerve ending in his body a livewire of sensation.

"Harder," Henry whined, tightening his grip on Alex's ass, encouraging him to move faster.

Alex groaned, speeding up the snap of his hips significantly, attaching his lips to Henry's neck.

"J-just like that, love... yeah... fuck my pussy—"

Alex's hips stuttered to an abrupt halt as he froze completely behind Henry. Henry barely
stifled a petulant protest at the pause. A couple of deep, shuddering breaths later, Alex
grabbed Henry's chin firmly, turning Henry's head back towards him. Molten heat coiled in
Henry's gut and he clenched instinctively around Alex at the look in his eyes. They were
blazing. Burning. Alight in flame.

"Say that again." Alex's voice came out sounding obscenely husky. Wrecked. Wrung out.

"Fuck... my pussy," Henry whispered.

Alex groaned, burying his face in the juncture of Henry's neck and shoulder for a few seconds
before pulling almost completely out and thrusting back in again, hard, hitting Henry's
prostate directly. Henry's knees buckled, but Alex tightened his arm around Henry's middle,
keeping him upright.

"Again." Alex's nose pressed hard into Henry's cheek.

"Fuck my pussy." Henry felt lightheaded, a delirious smile curling at his lips.

Alex pulled out and thrust back in, hitting the spot even more perfectly than the first time.
Henry whined. It was agony of the sweetest kind.

"Again." There was an edge of demanding authority to Alex's tone that had Henry's insides
practically liquifying under his skin.

"Fuck. My. Pussy." Henry punctuated it by sinking his teeth into Alex's jaw.

Alex moaned loud and filthy before he started fucking up into Henry at a brutal pace, nailing
his prostate on each stroke. Henry's eyes rolled into his head, his voice breaking airy and
breathy on a high pitched stream of "ah ah ahs." Alex's arm, vice-like around his abdomen,
was the only thing keeping Henry tethered to reality.

"Is this how you like it, princess?" Alex gasped. "You like it when I fuck your pretty little
pussy?"

"Yes, yes, yes — ah — yeah-hngh... oh fuck, f-fuck."

"Yeah? You like it when I hit you rough? Deep?"

"So deep. So full... I c-can feel you here." Henry grabbed Alex's hand and pressed it against
the hard planes of his lower abs.

"Want me to fill you up?" Alex whispered. "Want me to fill your perfect fucking pussy — f-fuck
— till you can feel my come dripping out of you?"

Henry felt tears roll down his cheeks, as Alex kept the pace of his thrusts unrelenting. His
vision started to blur. Every inch of his body on fire.

"What do you need, baby?" There was a softer lilt to Alex's voice as he pressed his lips briefly
to Henry's temple. "Tell me what you need to get there. I'll — hah... Jesus fuck — I'll do it."

Henry knew immediately exactly what he wanted.

"I need you... to," Henry begged, desperation dripping off his every word. "Call me a...ah—"

"Call you what, sweetheart? Tell me."

"Call me — ohhh fuck — call me a slut."

A fantastically delicious groan ripped out of Alex, his hips becoming uncoordinated for several
moments. Henry laughed breathlessly, dizzy with pleasure.

"All those people out there," rasped Alex when he regained his rhythm. "They think you're this
coy... uptight... proper little porcelain doll."

He nipped hard at Henry's shoulder, sucking for several seconds till it was sure to bruise.

"What would they think if they saw you like this?" Alex gently teased Henry's steadily leaking
slit with his thumb. "Desperate... begging for it. Sucking my cock deep into your hot... tight...
insatiable pussy... like a wanton slut."

Henry keened, shattering violently around the exquisite feeling of Alex spilling into him warm
and wet before his vision went fuzzy.

He felt vaguely aware, somewhere in the periphery of his consciousness, of Alex pulling out of
him causing him to whimper at the loss. Of Alex lowering him gently onto the mattress and
wiping him clean. Of Alex kissing his forehead and drawing the covers over him. When Henry
finally came back to himself, he saw Alex beside him, head propped up on an elbow, a syrupy,
dazed sort of smile on his face.

"Welcome back, Your Majesty," he murmured, brushing a few damp locks of hair off Henry's
forehead.

Not for the first time, Henry marveled at the fact that the bronzed, sculpted, ethereal Adonis
in front of him was his. It seemed impossible. Absurd. Like the universe had experienced an
administrative error that it was yet to rectify.

Henry longed for the ability to manipulate time. Staying frozen in that exact moment. Growing
old tangled up forever in Alex and soft sheets.

"That," said Henry, his breath finally returning to him. "Was in my top two. And it's not two."

Alex laughed, shoulders shaking, burying his head in Henry's neck. The vibrations did
incredible things to Henry's chest. He brought a hand up to run gently through Alex's sweaty
curls. Alex practically purred.

"I fully concur." He nuzzled into Henry's shoulder, spooning him tightly. "Five stars. No fucking
notes."

It occurred to Henry then that he couldn't remember ever feeling so warm. So safe. So
protected. Not since he lost his father. A painful lump lodged itself in his throat.

"We should probably shower."

"Later," Alex mumbled drowsily. "Sleep now, sweetheart."

Henry allowed his tired eyes to droop shut, cuddling further into the circle of Alex's arms.
Feeling utterly undone. Utterly smitten. And utterly helpless to stop it. Just as he began
drifting steadily into slumber, he felt gentle lips at his temple, and heard soft words whispered
into the night.

"Te amo, mi amor."

Henry thought he might have dreamt it.

Henry had always hated New Years as a general rule. Something about the concept had
always felt melancholy and depressing to him. It wasn't new or novel for him to be feeling out
of sorts at the beginning of a fresh calendar. But with Alex not due back from his holiday
break for another 48 hours, and stuffed into a chair next to Philip's most acutely obnoxious
social circle at what they believed passed for a party, Henry felt dangerously close to stabbing
someone with a dessert fork.

He used a lull in the mind numbingly inane conversation to type out a quick message to Alex.

You might just be my favourite person on earth.

It's becoming quite the problem.
Miss you.
Hurry back.

He pocketed his phone again, only to feel it buzz almost immediately with a reply.

I'll break the sound barrier for you.

As he stared at the screen, it took every ounce of restraint Henry possessed not to do
anything monumentally stupid. Like dissolve into hysterical tears at the dinner table. Or book
the next available flight to Texas. Or announce to the world that Alex was his so everyone else
could back the bloody fuck off.

Henry suffered through dessert, coffee, and an excruciating round of cards Philip insisted it
would be rude of him to avoid before he took his chance and made an excuse to leave before
midnight. He must have been terrible company for nobody even tried to talk him into staying
longer, and Henry was glad for it.

He trudged up to his room, feeling on the verge of tears, hoping he'd make it through the
door before they started to fall. The sight that greeted him when he walked in, however, stole
the breath right out of his lungs.

Alex was curled up on his bed, with David held protectively in the crook of his arm, both of
them snoring softly, completely oblivious to Henry's presence.

Henry felt like he was in a trance as he approached them, pausing a few feet from the bed,
wanting to preserve the moment a little longer. He also wondered briefly whether he was
hallucinating. Alex being there made no logical sense, and yet there he was right in front of
Henry's eyes, real and tangible and beautiful as ever.

As though sensing his presence, Alex began to stir. His eyes fluttered open, blinking blearily,
before painstakingly extricating his arm from around David so as not to wake him. It was only
when he sat up that he spotted Henry and a startled gasp escaped him.

"Baby." His face split into a beatific smile. "How long you been standing there?"

"Just a few minutes," Henry replied, his voice hoarse. "Didn't want to wake you. How are
you... here?"

Alex shrugged sleepily.

"Um... surprise? I took an earlier flight out. I was driving my family crazy, moping around the
house every day."

"Why were you moping?"

Alex cocked his head with an expression that implied Henry was missing something incredibly
obvious.

"Because I missed you, genius."

Henry wanted to hug him until bones fractured. To kiss him until night turned to day. But he
couldn't get his body to move an inch. He stood rooted to where he was, gaping at Alex like
he was a mirage that could disappear at the slightest disturbance.

Alex moved to rise from the bed, but the dip of the mattress had David startling awake with
an alarmed yelp. Alex immediately crouched over him, running his fingers soothingly across
his back until he settled back down.

"Sorry to wake you, Davey," he cooed gently. "I'll be back to cuddle you in a second, okay?
Gotta go make out with your daddy first, so you're probably gonna wanna have your eyes
closed for that anyway. That's it, buddy, go back to sleep. Shhh, shhh."

When David's eyes finally drooped again, Alex leaned down to place a soft kiss on his head,
smiling fondly at him for several seconds. The tears that Henry had held hostage all night,
finally decided to fall.

Alex turned to grab his phone off the bedside table, glancing at the time.

"Didn't miss midnight, nice," he said cheerfully before turning to Henry.

His face dropped as he caught sight of the tears, standing swiftly to approach Henry.

"Baby, what's wrong? Did something hap—"

"I love you."

Alex froze in his tracks. His breath hitched sharply. His phone fell out of his hand with a loud
clatter.

Time — Henry's entire world held within the clutches of that very moment — careened to a
stop.

Notes:
"Too beautiful to be real. TALL!!!! Has serious game. A mouth so filthy it'd
make Satan blush. Ultimate green flag bf. Will have everyone asking whether
Henry can fight."

That was the character outline I saved in my notes app for Alex before I
started this fic.

"Teeny, tiny six-foot babygirl who could fit in your pocket. Gay disaster. The
softest, prettiest English rose who will fight everyone for Alex. Don't test him,
he'll fuck you up."

And that was Henry's.

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