#Henry fox one shot

[soulofapatrick]

Not What I Thought - Henry Fox x Male Reader

Summary: You meet Henry at Philip and Martha's wedding to find you're both as enthralled by the other as the other

Words: 2.1k 

Warnings: None really, almost smut but interrupted

Notes: Henry and Alex from RWRB have taken over my life 🤣🤣🤣

Y/N’s POV

To say that I wasn’t absolutely shitting myself would be a lie as I step out of the limo with Alex, my older brother, and Nora, the vice president’s daughter. Usually, Alex and Nora would take this job but mother wanted me to start getting out into the spotlight and making a name for myself as Alex is about to start running the campaign in Texas and June has officially become a speech writer for the Whitehouse while I’ve done nothing. I’m only just eighteen and I have the whole world knowing my name which is rather daunting, but, not as daunting as this…

Buckingham Palace is fucking huge, and gold and full of fancy shit that I don’t know the name of. I’m not even sure why I said yes to this. Alex is grumbling and rolling his eyes about how snobbish and pretentious Prince Henry is while Nora is basically bouncing as she walks, full to the brim with excitement, as she drags my stumbling self behind her to line up and greet the royal family as they enter the hall. Or ballroom. I’m not sure, all these rooms are too big to distinguish them. 

Prince Philip and his new wife, Martha, look to be the snobbish ones, noses upturned and voice articulate as they shake hands with every important member of governments and royal connections in this line. He looks at us three like we’re the dirt under his shoes and shakes Alex’s hand like he has the plague before skipping me entirely and greeting Nora with a little better attitude. Next is Bea, the middle child and the wild child from what I hear. She’s pleasant if somewhat reserved but she greets the three of us like we’re long lost childhood friends reuniting and it leaves a warm feeling in my chest even if I don’t actually swing that way. She’s waltzing Nora away before anyone can say anything and suddenly I’m face to face with beauty. 

Prince Henry. He stands tall - taller than Alex - and regal amidst the opulent surroundings of Buckingham Palace. His blond hair impeccably styles, the locks sweeping messily back from his forehead with natural elegance. The subtle curl at the ends softens his appearance, giving him an approachable air despite his royal stature. The rich hue of his hair contrasts perfectly with his fair, porcelain complexion. His eyes, a light shade of blue that seems to hold a depth of emotions, are set beneath finely arched eyebrows. They radiate a mixture of curiosity, kindred and a hint of despair - a combination that makes it hard to look away. 

His features are finely chiseled, with a strong jawline that adds a touch of masculinity to his ethereal beauty. His lips, full and oh so inviting, seem to hold a natural grace that could effortlessly break into a smile or a quick teasing grin. His tailored suit fits him like a second skin, emphasising his lean build and hinting at a strength beneath the refined exterior. The way he carries himself, with an air of confidence tempered by genuine interest in those around him, makes it easy to see why he captures the attention of all who meet him despite Alex’s stories of how entitled and narcissistic he is. 

As his voice reaches my ears, it’s warm and inviting, breaking through the nervousness that has settled within me, “Good evening,” He says, his tone polite but not distant, “I don’t believe we have had the pleasure of meeting before. May I have your name?” 

His hand, when he extends it for a handshake, is warm and firm, his grip confident yet not overpowering. There’s a sincerity in the ay he clasps my hand, a fleeting connection that carries a sense of genuine interest. As his blue eyes meet mine, I can’t help but feel that beneath all the rumours I’ve heard and the expectations, there’s a complexity to Prince Henry that is both intriguing and captivating. 

“Y-your majest- Oh no! Your royal highness-“ Alex facepalms from beside me, watching me fumble over my words as my brain displays images of Henry pressing me up against the nearest wall and having me any way he likes, “Y-Y/N. It’s Y/N Claremont-Diaz.” 

“Well,” His eyes seemed to have darkened as they sweep over me once, not in the same way Philip did, and oh fuck me. I am not going to make it through this evening if he keeps looking at me like that, especially when he leans in close, breath hot against my cheek, “I hope to see you later.”

As quickly as he appeared, Henry is gone, and Alex is at my side, steering me toward the bustling ballroom where the after party is in full swing. Amidst the crowd, Alex seems to vanish in search of alcohol, leaving me to navigate the sea of unfamiliar faces. My eyes find Nora, her laughter blending with Bea's in a way that suggests they've been friends for years. I decide to do what I do best, explore without getting seen, blend into the shadows and find a quiet spot where no-one will disturb me, except maybe Amy who is my PPO for the day. Deciding to retreat into my comfort zone, 

I slip away quietly, becoming a shadow in the corners of the palace. It doesn't take long before I stumble upon a room, a hidden oasis amidst the grandeur, filled with books. Floor-to-ceiling shelves line the walls, laden with leather-bound volumes and dusty tomes. The soft glow of sconces illuminates the space, casting an inviting warmth that contrasts with the glitz and glamour outside. I step further into the room, running my fingers over the spines of the books. It’s mesmerising, the sheer collection of knowledge and stories tucked away in here. For a moment, I forget about the grand event unfolding just beyond these walls. I lose myself in the comfort of solitude and the intoxicating scent of aged pages. 

Just as I’m lost in my thoughts, the door creaks open, and I spin around to face the intruder, expecting to be Amy or Alex, having found me finally. But the sight that greets me is anything but ordinary. Henry stands there, his presence no longer commanding but somehow ordinary, like another person in the streets. His blue eyes meet mine, and there’s a shared understanding that in this moment neither of us are from royalty or fame, we are just Y/N and Henry. 

“You are an enigma, nothing at all how I imagined.” He tells me, quietly closing the door and making his way over to me, gesturing to the sofa. I sink straight into the plush cushions, Henry sitting on my left, one leg tucked under himself and arm flung over the back of the sofa, expression open and I have to adjust my seat imagining pushing him back and kissing him breathless. 

We exchange banter, light teasing, and the kind of easy conversation that’s reserved for moments of genuine connection. Henry’s flirting is subtle, a glint in his eyes and a playful quirk to his lips. It’s a dance of words that feels both exhilarating and comfortable, as if we’ve known each other for far longer than just a few hours. 

But then there’s a pause, a fleeting moment where the air between us changes. It’s as if time is holding its breath, our eyes locked, and the room is charged with a palpable tension. And then, in an instant, the atmosphere shifts again. It’s a surge, a magnetic pull that neither of us can resist and as if guided by an unseen force, we’re both leaning forwards, closing the distance between us. Our lips meet in a kiss that’s hesitant, testing the waters to see if awe are both wanting the same thing. It’s a slow exploration, a gentle press of lips that converts a shared curiosity and a mutual yearning. There’s a softness to the touch, a tentative dance that feels both intimate and tender. 

The hesitation doesn’t last long. As if a dam has been breached, the atmosphere between us surges with an irresistible pull. Henry’s lips mould against mine with more urgency, his hand finding it’s way to the curve of my cheek as if he’s trying to memorise every contour and scar. I respond in kind, my fingers threading through the soft strands of his hair, a silent invitation for him to come closer. And he does. The kiss deepening, a dance of desire and longing, a magnetic force that draws us closer until there’s hardly any space between us. 

I feel the shift as Henry’s hand traces the line of my jaw, his touch igniting sparks along my skin. And then, suddenly, the world tilts as he pushes me back onto the sofa, not dissimilar to the way I was picturing doing it to Henry. There’s a controlled urgency in his movements as he claims over me, body hovering just out of touch and the sensation is electrifying. Our lips collide once more, a collision of passion and aching want. It's a fervent dance of tongues and shared breaths that leaves me dizzy and craving more. His hands, exploratory and confident, trace the contours of my chest and shoulders. The path they leave in their wake is seared with fire, a trail of sensations that has me arching into his touch. 

As the kiss deepens, I can’t help but let my own desires take over. My hands, emboldened by need, glide down his back until they reach his waist and I pull him down to close the achingly large gap between us, drawing a whimper from me as his hips brush against mine just right. 

“Jesus, you know exactly what you want, don’t you?” Henry pants, breaking the kiss to focus his gaze on my shirt with an annoyed expression. His lean fingers with the buttons on my shirt, his touch almost impatient in it’s eagerness to explore what lies beneath. He looks breathtaking, hovering above me, honey hair mused and blue eyes glazed with want and abandon. 

I can’t stop myself reaching up and tangling my hand in those locks, grumbling, “You talk to much.” Before yanking him down into a bruising kiss. My hips raising up to meet his, causing a delicious friction that has me swallowing the sounds Henry makes, his hips rocking to meet mine. 

“Y/N, I told you not to-oh my god.” Amy is turning around and walking back outside, closing the door with a meaningful clearing of her throat. Henry is scrambling off of me and to his feet, eyes wide as if he’s realising what we’ve done and there’s a sinking feeling in my gut. I sit up, adjusting myself, the suit pants doing not much to ease he uncomfortableness and trying to make myself a little more presentable, keeping my head bowed away from his royal highness. 

“Oh no, no, no,” Henry is appearing between my legs, doing nothing to help my problem, those fantasy inducing fingers gripping my thighs higher than they should be, “Y/N Claremont-Diaz, you are a pleasure and I do hope we can see each other again. I would…” He pauses, looking up at me through hooded lashes and his right hand shifting even higher and a strangled sound escapes my throat, “I would like to see more of you.” 

“Fuck.” I’m letting my head fall back, the dull pain from the couch frame helping ease my raging erection that is currently being groped by someone I never thought. I think I get whiplash when Henry pops the button on my suit pants, “Hen- fuck… Henry, Alex is looking for me…. We don’t… we don’t have-“

“There you are Y/N!” The door bursts open and Alex stops short, eyes wide and jaw almost hitting the floor before he screeches, “HENRY?!” 

“Alex-“ 

“OF ALL PEOPLE? YOU PICK HENRY?” He’s staring bug eyed while Henry is still kneeling there, worry on his soft features. 

“Get out.” I grumble at my older brother who just rolls his eyes and focuses his gaze on a very red in the face Prince. 

“You hurt him, I hurt you.” Then Alex is gone with a half hearted slam of the door. 

I’m gripping Henry’s chin between my thumb and forefinger, guiding his gaze to mine to see the same nervousness and intensity in them. He parts his lips when my thumb ghosts over his plump bottom one and I think I die and go to heaven right then and there. 

“Where were we?’ He murmurs, guiding my hand to his hair again and yeah, I’m dead. How the fuck did I get the Prince of England to want me back in the span of four maybe five hours? I’m not gonna question it, just gonna take it as it is. 

Fuck Me.

-------------

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[yrsonpurpose]

#an otp that can do both [x]

[alexsandhenrys]

@rwrbmovie & @rwrbsource’s rwrbweek: Day 4 | Little Detail

[pippin-katz]

Alright, I have mostly restrained myself, but I cannot stay quiet any longer. There is a question that has been eating at me...

Whose fucking idea was it to have Henry (Nicholas) constantly grabbing Alex's (Taylor's) hair?!

Note: I'm adding this in after finishing writing this because this was supposed to be a relatively short post, and then it spiraled out of control, so if you want to listen to me gradually lose my sanity over this question, feel free to keep reading, cause it is admittedly funny lmfao

Another Note: This is me being overly sarcastic and hyper cause it’s funny for me to think about that situation. This is supposed to be a funny post. I said that at the end, but I’m adding it here too.

Listen, remember what they said about the intimate scenes: they were planned down to every detail. Remember what Nicholas said about having conversations with Taylor, Matthew, and Robbie about boundaries, what was okay, and not okay. Remember that they have A LINE IN THE FILM ABOUT HENRY GRABBING HIS HAIR (iconic).

Do you see it? Do you see where this is going?

The hair pulling/grabbing is not random. It doesn't happen in just the New Year's kiss to set up a funny line later.

It happens all the time.

Even in soft moments, Henry has a hand in his hair.

The hair grabbing gets its own shot in their love-making scene.

Consistent small actions (twisting a ring, biting nails, drumming with fingers, etc.) are character habits. They're things that they do all the time, subconsciously or for a decisive reason, usually if you know that action causes a specific response that you want for any reason.

There's a coworker that drives you crazy, so you purposefully hum really loudly whenever they're in the room to piss them off. Your friend has a sensitivity to the color red, so on days you know you're going to see them, you avoid wearing it. Your partner has muscle cramps, so you massage their shoulders whenever you're standing behind them.

These habits usually start as conscious decisions, then gradually become subconscious, hence the term "habit". You've been doing something for so long or for frequently enough that you do it while on "autopilot".

I think it's pretty obvious why this action happens. It's because A: Henry likes feeling of his hair, and/or B: Alex likes when someone touches his hair. Note: This could be in any context, not just sexual; running fingers through it, washing it, styling it, etc.

Either you figured out what I am going to say, and you're wondering why I'm blabbering on so much, or you're just confused about where I'm going with this at all, so here's where it all clicks together.

When you have a character, habits are something you give them to give them more personality, more insight into their mentality through subtle things they do. It's something the director/writer/actor chooses to give to the character.

BUT - nothing in the intimacy scenes happen without being discussed and agreed upon.

This isn't like Nicholas fidgeting with the signet ring to show Henry's nerves. This isn't like Taylor frequently making little hand gestures (peace signs, finger guns, tapping the side of his glass, etc.) because Alex has undiagnosed ADHD and that's one way to physically imply it.

They can do those things without being told or given "permission" because it's their portrayal of the character, it doesn't effect anyone else, and small details like that are typically up to the actors, unless the director is incredibly strict.

BUT - AGAIN WITH FEELING - NOTHING IN THE INTIMACY SCENES HAPPEN WITHOUT BEING DISCUSSED AND AGREED UPON.

That means that someone, one of the four of them, brought up grabbing his hair as a suggestion, and further more, Taylor (and Nick, but obviously Taylor's consent is more important in this specific case) was fine with it.

Think about it. Think about them sitting around a table discussing the kinds of stuff that Matthew and Robbie would want to see, and what Nick and Taylor would be okay with. Think about the fact that one of them was sitting there, and looked at the other three, and said: "What if Henry grabs Alex's hair a lot?"

And then the four of them had to sit there, and talk, in depth, about what that would mean.

*inhale*

Who... the fuck... said it?

WHO SAID IT?!

Did Matthew and Robbie present it as part of the initial planning?? Or did one of them look Taylor and Nick in the eye and say it?? Did Nick throw it out there as something he thought Henry would do?? Was it Taylor??? Since it's his hair???

Cause it's not just like, running Nick running his fingers through it, combing it during some tender moment, like when Alex talks about his father being an immigrant.

HE FUCKING GRABS IT.

What the fuck were these conversations like?! I cannot think of a single way to have that conversation where someone wouldn't have to say something that would make me make me go UHHH-

What? So - Matthew's like "how do you guys feel about touching each other's hair?" -and they're like "what, you mean like running our fingers through it?" -and he's like "nah yanking it while you're making out"

Like... what do you say to that?! - "oh which one of us would do it to the other?" -and what, did Taylor fucking volunteer?? Just like - "he can pull my hair, it's chill" - WTF?!

Or did he suggest it in the first place, like they were discussing things that would that could be part of Alex and Henry's dynamic and he's just like - "he could pull my hair?" -and the other three just stared at him for a second, because wtf that's a intensely intimate action to suggest?!

Hair touching in general is really intimate, in like, every context, at least I think to most people, and definitely to me. Most people wouldn't just let someone, even someone they were friends with, start playing with their hair or touching their head. I wouldn't even let my best friend randomly touch my head; I would instinctually try to bite their hand off (not a joke). Maybe I'm a slight bit more touch-repulsed than most, but I feel like it's safe to say that the majority of people don't want their hair and head being touched, grabbed, or played with unless they say so.

And again, they do it CONSISTENTLY. It's not a one and done scene. It is an actual dynamic between Alex and Henry they chose to establish.

SO I ASK AGAIN: WHOSE IDEA WAS IT?!

I'm looking at you four, Matthew, Robbie, Taylor, and Nicholas. I know it was one of you cheeky bastards that suggested it. One of you brought it up, and the rest of you were like "sure".

I will be forever haunted by this mystery, as I doubt I will ever get an answer.

Note: Please don't take this super seriously. I'm not trying to imply anything; I'm literally just joking around cause the concept of having that conversation boggles my mind lol

[antoine-triplett]

@rwrbmovie & @rwrbsource’s rwrbweek:

Day 4 | Little Detail - Continuous Shots

[beautifulhigh]

Welcome to the next edition of Jen's meta ramblings

I have watched the movie at least once a day since it came out and I kid you not, I see something new every time. The fact that this is Matthew López's first directoral debut is just... I'm in awe. And you can tell how much he loves the story because of the way things like this are set up and played out

In the novel, Henry and Alex are skinny dipping in the lake at night, and so I absolutely got the change in both time of day and also attire. But let's talk about that little island shall we?

No man is an island entire of itself; every man is a piece of the continent, a part of the main; if a clod be washed away by the sea

Every single one of us is not meant to be alone, without connection and without a link to someone else. We are parts of a whole and if we lose that... well. It's not good.

Henry is on that island, our prince who belongs to Britain and Henry Fox who thinks he has to belong to himself. The prince is forced into status and circumstance, of appearances and mindless ribbon cuttings. When he does something that means something - like the trip to the cancer ward - then he doesn't do it with cameras. I'd argue he's not the prince there, he's Henry Fox. The man who lost his father to cancer.

But this is not that meta.

Henry has shut himself off, shut himself away. He doesn't date the people he's interested in, he doesn't live his truth (and for very good and valid reasons). He has decided that while Prince Henry belongs to Britain, Henry Fox is an island.

And look who is swimming up to that island. Look who is coming out to Henry, having realised the night before that oh yeah, I do feel forever about him and so Alex swims out to that island.

And the first thing he does? He makes Henry laugh. He is silly and fun and the complete antithesis of the composed and collected Prince of Wales. And then he joins Henry, on his island.

This gorgeous overhead shot shows us that Alex is putting himself on Henry's right (protocol or his good side?) but he's also in the centre of the island. He's not on the edge of it. In the metaphor of Henry Fox's island, Alex is putting himself at the heart of it all. RIght before he lays out his heart to Henry.

The shot that broke our hearts too, along with Henry's. Because we can see the shore in the background now. We're reminded that islands are not - they cannot be fully independent. People cannot be islands and even though Alex is literally and metaphorically planting himself at Henry's side, Henry knows that this island he's formed for himself in his heart and his sense of self cannot stand if Alex is there. If Alex is with him then he is no longer an island. Henry Fox will not belong to himself and the sense of protection and self-preservation we see coming out in the Storming of Kensington is under threat.

So he bails.

The island is submerged, like the mythical Atlantis, because how do you render land useless? Drown it. How do you deal with water? Drain it away. He abandons his island and flees back to the only other space he has left - Kensington Palace - in an attempt to regroup. He drains his life of Alex and what he brings. He has to return to being the Prince of Wales because Henry Fox got too close. Because Henry Fox realised he was being loved by a man who would literally swim out to where he is.

Moment of appreciation for the shot. Matthew, you have a fucking talent and I cannot wait to see what else you do. Because our #imtaller boy looks so small here. So lost. When else have we seen someone look so small and lost?

Oh. Yeah.

When he's curling in on himself in an almost last-ditch attempt to protect himself and his boundaries from what is coming. You can see that he's no longer dry, that Alex's "shower time" has changed him. Alex brought laughter and love and water onto his island and Henry has just realised what this means. This isn't a visitor's visa. This is immigration.

Which is what makes THIS so much more. Back to our boy, drenched from the storm, plaintively asking Henry to talk to him.

Because yes, the Storming of Kensington happens during an actual storm, but by now you know I overead into everything... so once again we have Alex "swimming" out to Henry. He's dived right in and gone are the jokes, gone is the humour. He is here and he is asking to be let in and daring Henry to send him away.

This is Alex, serious and in love and following Henry to whatever landmass he is setting foot on. Henry is trying to be an island and Alex is out here going, "I'll just build another boat you fucker". A true 'ship if you will. He swam out to an island on a lake, he flew to a tiny island across an ocean. He is standing at Henry's borders and he isn't launching an offensive. He's just saying that if Henry wants to be cut off from everything then he needs to do the cutting himself.

Prince Henry felt like he belonged to Britain, Henry Fox felt like he had to belong to himself, and Alex turned up and went "nope. Mine now". (Insert additional historical quip about the English being colonised for once.) But there is still some truth in that: the Prince is part of England, and we should all belong to ourselves even in relationships. Henry just learns that the different parts of him can co-exist. Bit like how water and land can co-exist without one destroying the other.

Henry is Alex's North Star but he's also his solid ground. Insert quip about Alex colonising Henry and claiming him for his own, planting of flag, your innuendo of choice goes here. Pyramus wished there wasn't a wall - Alex straight up scaled Henry's.

There's a divergence between Prince Henry and Henry Fox, but at the heart of them both there's Henry. And this is the man that Alex sees, this is the man that Alex loves. Alex swims out to the island for Henry Fox, Alex pushes through the rain for Prince Henry. Alex holds steady in the storm of talking with King James/Queen Mary and the public.

And it started with Alex literally making his way out to Henry on an island: be that England for the Royal Wedding, a pontoon island on a lake, or knocking down Henry's walls.

To this moment. Which is very hard to grab a screenshot of, but Alex asks Henry to "take a walk" with him. This time it's Henry going to/with Alex. The fact that he's there is one thing (and a rant rather than a meta) but at this point they have each other. They belong to each other. Where one of them goes, the other one follows. Independent, together, co-existing.

Anyway. I'm sure there will be more bullshit ramblings and metas at some point. Follow me if you want more of that (but be warned: blank and empty blogs are blocked on sight) because we are not islands in this metaphorical storm of life. Let us swim out to one another, dry off with one another, and live a life with broken down borders and walls.

ETA: I now have another name to add to the thanks. Stephen Goldblatt, from the bottom of my soul, thank you

[rockingtheorange]

It's giving Alex spying on Henry cause he's been weird for weeks, while Henry is trying to find a good place where to hide the rings and planning their proposal❤

Tzp on IG

Sequence of Henry stressing:

Thinking about the ring and proposal location

Staying up all night doing research

Finally finding the perfect spot in a corner of his drawer and planning the proposal the same place they kissed for the first time because "You're as thick as it gets. I want to spend my entire life with you" are the words he wants to use.

(Ps. Alex had a lot of time to learn about Henry's brain, so he kind of suspects what it is. Therefore, he decides planning his own proposal, rebutting with "Shut up, stop talking and marry me already.")

(Yes. They both cry like babies and they'll bring their daughter in the same place in the future to show her where the starts can make miracles happen.)

[traveling-at-the-speed-of-light]

life is like a chessboard and you're beating me at my own game [First Prince One Shots] (Alexander Claremont-Diaz/Henry Fox)

Title: life is like a chessboard and you're beating me at my own game (First Prince One Shots)

Author: Crazy_Comet_97

Tagline: A collection of First Prince (and occasional Talck) one-shots/mini-drabbles/songfics/everything else for your entertainment and viewing pleasure.

Word Count: 753 (so far)

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/55461271

[vityascielo]

Fandom: Red White & Royal Blue - Casey McQuiston Rating: General Audiences Relationships: Alex Claremont-Diaz/Henry Fox-Mountchristen-Windsor Summary:

Sometimes, Henry thinks looking at Alex can feel devastating.

Devastating with his boyish smile, beautiful brown skin, and brown eyes that are so warm and framed by eyelashes so long it should be illegal. With his dark curls and calloused hands he looks like a perfect manifestation of every single one of Henry’s most impossible dreams.

It would be easier if that's where it stopped. If it was only the physical things that kept drawing him back to Alex but it's not. It never was. *

Or: The New Year’s countdown from Henry’s POV.

----------------------------

I’ve had this one sitting in my drafts since like September so I decided to finally polish it up and post it! Lmk what you think if you give it a read!!<3

[rwrbficrecs]

Hi! Do you have any favourite one shots that you would recommend? Can be any topic or trope or AU or canonverse! It's just that I love reading one shots before bed and would love to have some more recs 😊 Thank you for all you do!

Hello! I also love reading one-shots / short fics before bed 🥰 Here’s a super random selection from my faves, hope you enjoy! (If you run out - feel free to request more! I have plenty more I can rec😂)

(baby) don't make me spell it out by @extasiswings Competent Guardians of Horny Little Miscreants by M0ssPiglet in sickness, and in health by softcinnamonroll Little Secrets Grow Up To Be Big Lies by @dracowillhearaboutthis Love and Hate at the Farmers' Market by @myheartalivewrites Make it Good by @livinginrhythm midnight kisses and missed countdowns by viciouslyqueer My Odds Are Stacked by @clottedcreamfudge One Number Away by @livinginrhythm Pitching a Tent by @omgcmere spread (me on your) sheets by @everwitch-magiks The Mystery of Alex Claremont-Diaz's Boyfriend by @sherryvalli Want you BRIMNESxt to me by @clottedcreamfudge You Are the Wave I Could Never Tame by bleedingballroomfloor

[rwrb-uncut]

losing grips on sinking ships (you showed up just in time)

Henry thought himself a fool, really, for thinking he could have pulled it off.

For thinking he could have navigated through life today feeling as terrible as he did without Alex noticing. Without Alex worrying.

***

just a lil something about how henry cares for alex and how alex cares for henry

find me on ao3 for more! : https://archiveofourown.org/users/rwrb_uncut/pseuds/rwrb_uncut

***

Henry thought himself a fool, really, for thinking he could have pulled it off.

For thinking he could have navigated through life today feeling as terrible as he did without Alex noticing. Without Alex worrying. 

And the last thing he wanted to do was cause Alex any more stress, with finals next week and his mock trial scheduled for Monday. Henry knew that it was a lot to handle, even for Alex. He had been having trouble remembering to eat lately, remembering to take study breaks, to drink enough water, to wash his hair – and Henry did not mind filling in these gaps. He jumped at the chance to, even. Alex was his whole world, he would do anything to make sure that the love of his life was happy and healthy and sated. Seeing Alex work so hard for something he's wanted for so long, it made Henry proud to even know him, let alone share his bed.

So Henry found himself doting on Alex a little more than usual over the last few weeks – but how could he not? It was Alex . He took care to pack him a balanced lunch with extra snacks every day, topping them with goofy little notes he knew would make him smile. He also tried to have dinner ready and waiting for Alex when he came home – more often than not Henry would end up taking the car to the library and dropping it off to him. He'd give Alex a kiss on the cheek and Alex would give him a bashful apology that Henry would brush off, smiling up at him.

“Probably be a late night again tonight, sorry Hen,” he'd murmur into Henry's ear, hugging him close outside of the library. 

“S'okay, study hard, darling. You're gonna ace this one,” Henry would reply, pulling away but letting their entwined fingers stay linked for a few moments longer. 

And when Alex would come home in the early hours of the morning, his keys jingling in the lock, Henry would perk right up from bed and meet him downstairs. He'd help Alex shrug off his jacket, unlace his shoes, and pepper his face with feather-light kisses as the taller man leaned into his touch. He'd take Alex's wrist and pull him upstairs, into their ridiculously large shower where he would run gentle hands into Alex's hair, over his broad shoulders, around the gentle curve of his hips. Alex would sag against him as he did so, his head bowing so his forehead could fully rest on Henry's shoulder. And when he was fresh and clean, Henry would grab two huge towels from the towel warmer he got as a prank gift from Pez last Christmas. Joke was on Pez,  though, because he used it nearly every chance he got – he was sure there were few worldly pleasures as comforting as a warm towel after a hot shower. 

Starting at Alex's head, he would towel off the excess water dampening his dark curls and lovingly pat his face dry. Working his way down his body, he'd move from his chest to his thighs to his shins, dropping kisses every so often. Just because he could. He made sure every inch of his boy was cradled safely within his hands, from head to toe. Safe in their little brownstone in Brooklyn, where Henry could kiss and caress and cling to Alex's shoulders as much as he wanted. Where he could protect him from the worries of the world and its obligations, if only for a few moments.

Then he'd dress Alex in worn pajamas (he really should buy him a new set, these old ones were beginning to get a little too worn) and let him brush his teeth and wash his face in comfortable silence. 

“Don't have to do all of this for me, baby,” Alex would chide every once in a while, but Henry would shake his head knowingly and ignore him.

“Don't have to, I just want to,” he would whisper back, not wanting to break the little bubble of quiet they had. Not just yet.

And then they'd fall into bed, Henry slotting himself underneath Alex's chin, pressed tightly to his chest with one leg thrown over Alex's hip. Sighing heavily, he’d collapse into Alex’s warm side and feel his eyes finally be pulled close by sleep. Henry never really slept much, not until Alex, and his body had become so acquainted with the feel of warm skin and toned muscle under him that he was most definitely spoiled now. The idea of falling asleep without his boy next to him in bed was almost laughable.

“Goodnight, darling,” Henry would whisper into Alex's collarbone, his lips brushing over the skin there. Inhaling the clean scent of citrus and pine, and something a little muskier, something so inherently Alex that he would never be able to describe properly.

“Love how you care for me, baby. Love you so much,” Alex would mumble into Henry's hair, pressing a kiss there.

“And I love you, Alex.”

For the most part that was Henry's routine, in between meetings with Pez and charity functions and royal duties from abroad. He even managed to find time to do little things for Alex that had slipped from his distracted mind, like reorganizing their closet and deep cleaning their home, one room at a time. He wanted to do these things for Alex, for them , but he knew he couldn't do it all, not for long. He felt himself slowing down over the past week or so, his mind becoming a little fuzzy at the edges. Sleep evaded him now, even when Alex was home, and he knew a bad day was brewing just on the horizon.

And on a dreary, cold Friday in early December, Henry was proven right. 

He woke with a migraine, digging in deep behind his eyelids and pressing at what felt like the very center of his brain. Before he even opened his eyes he knew it was going to be a long day. Feeling around the bedsheets, he was met with cold fabric, the only thing lingering was the smell of his husband. He groaned, rolling over and pressing his face into Alex's pillow. God, he couldn't wait for exams to be over so he could have his husband back, curled up next to him under their duvet in their home.

Just one more week. One more.

Henry was just about to roll back over and dive under the covers when he heard his phone start ringing on the nightstand. Blearily, he made a desperate grab for it, not even looking over at the table and sliding the phone icon to the right to answer.

“Haz! I'm on my way over, should be there in 15! Do you want a cuppa or have you had yours already?” 

Pez. He forgot he had a 9AM meeting with him and the mayor’s team in hopes to convince them to build another shelter. Glancing at the clock, Henry jumped as he registered the time. 8:11 AM. 

“God, sorry Pez I must have overslept, oh God, give me just a moment to – ” Henry nervously babbled as he scrambled out of bed, bumping his shin rather hard on the bedframe. He cringed as the pain made his headache intensify, and soon he was doubled over in the middle of his room, white knuckling his phone with Pez cackling from over the line.

“Well well, Alex keep you up all night? That wanker! Take your time Henry, I'll have breakfast waiting for you!” Pez replied as Henry slowly stood to his full height.

Resigned, Henry mumbled, “Thank you Pez, so sorry. I'll be ready, see you soon.” 

“You better be, H, it's a big day! Wear something nice!” And with that, Pez hung up, leaving the room eerily silent.

Henry sped through his skincare routine, skipping a few steps and working in the dark so as to not agitate his migraine any more than necessary. He threw back a few of his meds and swallowed them dry which was a terrible decision but he didn't have the sense today to think things through. Pulling a dark blue suit out of their closet, he dressed quickly, figuring he would style his hair in the car if need be. He stuffed a jar of his expensive hair pomade into his pocket and brushed his teeth, then finished his look with a tie and his new dress shoes. He had no idea how he looked but he felt a mess -- a sweaty, pale, quivering mess.

As if on cue, he heard a car honk downstairs and staggered dangerously down the stairs, only pausing to put on his coat and grab his keys and wallet. His phone was left forgotten in their bedroom, tangled up somewhere in the bedsheets.

Exiting the brownstone was another feat within itself - even with an overcast morning the sky was too bright, and Henry gasped in pain, pinching the bridge of his nose. He locked up carefully, taking a little too long, and walked to the car at the end of his walkway. 

“You look like shit man, you alright?” Pez asked once he got situated inside the car. Henry grimaced, taking a small sip from his tea. It should have tasted like relief but instead it immediately turned his stomach – he shouldn't have taken his migraine meds without having breakfast first. 

“No, not really. Not feeling… good today,” Henry mumbled, and as he said it he took inventory of what exactly he meant. Sure, he was tired, and sure, he was feeling a bit burned out, but he felt not good down to his very being today. He knew the migraine was from overextending himself for far too long, but the cloud of sadness he can usually keep at bay was hanging over him. Wrapping around his shoulders, enveloping him completely. He felt too heavy.

Pez nodded knowingly. “Anything I can do to help?” 

Henry shook his head softly, feeling his brain rattle around at even the faintest movement. Pez frowned at him, his eyes wide and understanding. “Just this meeting this morning, and then we're bringing you right back home. Sound good, babes?”

At that, Henry's heart stuttered. “No no, I can handle this afternoon's lineup, Pezza. Just had a s;ow start today, is all.”

Pez laughed at that, and the sheer volume of it made Henry wince. “Haz, no bull with me, alright? I know a bad day when I see one.”

Henry deflated, knowing he wasn't going to be able to fool his best friend. “Ok, Pez, ok – you're right. I think I'm just… a little tired. Sleep would be good.”

Pez reached for his hand then, where it lay, cold and clammy, on his right thigh. He squeezed it gently. “Then sleep you shall have. We'll get you through this morning, H.”

And, somehow, they did. Henry was able to pull it together enough to last through their meeting, which went well past lunchtime when it was supposed to end at 11AM. But it was somewhat of a success, as the officials were in favor of their plan sans one, who fought Pez and Henry every step of the way. He was the reason the meeting ran long, questioning every part of the proposal and trying desperately to poke holes in their work. Fortunately his fellow officials were able to convince him to shut his mouth, but it was quite a draining experience for everyone.

By the end of it, Henry was on the verge of tears, his head throbbing and his social battery very much so in the negative. He wanted to go home and sleep and disappear under a mound of blankets – all of a sudden everything was just too much . He felt his hands shaking as they played nervously with his wedding ring on their walk back to the car. Pez was chattering on about something with his driver, but Henry could barely register what the topic even was. He felt very far away, and very lost, and very scared. Somewhere in his rational mind he knew that it was his anxiety settling in, making him feel isolated and afraid, that depression had been clawing at his door for weeks now and had finally managed to slip in under the mat today. 

“ -at, right Haz?” Pez asked, bringing Henry back to himself slightly. He nodded slowly, slightly confused, and Pez pursed his lips slightly at him but said nothing. 

The rest of the ride was a blur, and before he knew it Henry was standing at his front door, opening the lock with shaky hands. And try as he might, he couldn't get the key into the lock, his body suddenly failing him and making him feel even more frustrated. Out of left field a hand reached out and covered his. He heard someone talking, soothing and quiet, and then Pez was standing next to him and opening the door, bringing Henry inside. He felt like he was underwater, only coming up every so often to hear or see something before being pulled right back under.

He was pushed backward, and suddenly he was in his own bed, stripped down to his undershirt but still in his slacks. His shoes were gone, and a warm cup was being pressed into his hands. Tea. It was his cuppa from this morning, still mostly untouched, warmed up again. Pez must have warmed it up for him, but when did he do that?

He took a drink of his tea and shuddered at the warmth. He hadn’t realized he was cold until now. Taking another sip, he resurfaced to hear Pez talking worriedly in the distance.

“ – like this, Alex. I'm worried about him, he said he wasn't feeling good this morning but now he's like a zombie.” 

There was a brief pause, and Henry hurt to hear the panic in Pez's voice. He didn't want to make anyone worry. He didn't want that. He wanted to help.

“Alright, I'll stay with him until then. Try to make him get some sleep, he looks like right shit today.”

And then Henry was closing his eyes again and falling back under the waves. He felt the cup removed from his hands only because the warmth suddenly disappeared, and then he was all wrapped up in their duvet and staring at the ceiling. A hand was in his hair, petting his golden strands softly, and there was a soft rumble in the distance. 

Suddenly, Henry harnessed the strength to say something. With a croaky voice, he started, “Pez, 'm sorry.”

The hand in his hair stopped. “Henry, babes, what for?” 

“This morning. The meeting.”

Pez chuckled at that, which was not what Henry was expecting to happen. That wasn't a joke, why was Pez laughing? “You do too much sometimes, Haz. Just sleep a little, okay babes? Take a rest. You've more than earned it.”

Henry hummed, which only made the dull thudding of his brain more intense. He felt the pain vibrate through his body, reverberating off of his bones and his very being.

Time passed, he was not sure how much, but Pez was talking again, and Henry opened his eyes to a dark room with the shades drawn. His head felt marginally better, just weakly throbbing, but maybe that was also because he hadn't moved in a while. Then, his ears picked up another voice, and his heart swelled instantly because he knew that voice. Alex was home.

“ – upstairs. He might still be asleep, but you can peek in. If you need anything, just give me a ring,” Pez filtered through the white noise filling Henry's ears, the door downstairs opening and closing. Calculated footsteps on the stairs and then Henry was face to face with a very concerned Alex. 

And the thing with Henry was, he wanted to be there for everyone all of the time. He wanted to help, he wanted to do good, he wanted to go above and beyond for everyone. But he still had ingrained in him that he needed to suppress his own needs, that he wasn't allowed to accept help from others. He was working on it, he really was, but things were easier said than done, especially unlearning 26 years of self-suppression. Of putting his own needs last.

So when Alex opened the door and walked into their room, for the first time in possibly forever, Henry was scared. Not of Alex, but of what state he would find Henry in. What he would think. If he would leave.

Breathless, Alex spoke. “Hen, what happened? Meeting not go well?”

Henry frowned, his insides churning. “No, was fine.”

“Just fine? Pez said it was a hell of a fight today, said you were feeling a little down after.”

“Yeah,” Henry agreed quietly, not really sure what he was saying. 

Alex flicked on the overhead light then and Henry audibly whimpered, screwing his eyes shut quickly. He felt ridiculous, a flash of light reducing him to a sniffling mess in the bedsheets. The light went off once more, but Henry kept his eyes closed, the pain behind his eyelids back in full force. “Oh baby, you got a migraine today?” Alex asked, finally getting what was going on. “Why didn't you tell anyone, Hen? 

The blonde man sighed. “Didn't think it'd be this bad,” and he was telling the truth, he really didn't think it'd be this bad. He knew it was going to be a weird day, a hard day even, but he didn't think he wouldn't be able to finish it without Pez assigning him mandatory bed rest and calling Alex on him. He was a grown man, couldn't he handle a little headache every now and then?

Sometimes it was still hard to get the harsh voice of Gran out of his head, chiding him for having needs. For having feelings. For needing a break.

“Henry, baby, come here. Sit up so we can get some comfy clothes on you,” Alex whispered, and then he felt a body crawling up the bed to hover over Henry's. He dared to open his eyes then and was met with two chocolate irises, thick with worry, and it made Henry's stomach flip. Alex grinned, all soft and only for Henry. “There you are, Hen. Missed that face.”

Despite the resurgence of pain, Henry was melting even more. God, he loved this man.

“Wanna get ready for bed, darling? Can I touch you?” 

Henry nodded slowly, and then Alex was maneuvering his undershirt off, slipping instead a grey NYU sweatshirt over his head as Henry worked his arms into the sleeves and pulled it down to completely engulf his abdomen. He reached down to undo his slacks and Alex pulled those off, working his way down the bed. He placed a kiss on the inside of Henry's knee as he did so and Henry suddenly felt tears spring to his eyes. 

In a moment of clarity, Henry remembered the pyjamas that he ordered to replace Alex’s old ones. He looked down from the head of the bed at his husband, still wearing jeans, a tight-fitting black t-shirt and -- his coat, even? Alex hadn’t even put his things down when he came home, just ran right up to Henry. He felt his heart squeeze and blood rush to his cheeks. Alex held his gaze, trying to gauge where Henry’s head was at. He must have looked rather ridiculous, in a sweatshirt and his pants, half-wrapped up in their bed covers with squinted eyes and a red face. 

“What is it, baby?” Alex asked, still holding Henry’s left ankle in his right hand. He smiled down at him, his eyes crinkling at the corners and god Henry wished he felt well enough to get right up and kiss him. 

Henry tried to smile back, but it must have looked more like a grimace. “Got you some new pyjamas, they’re -- in the closet.”

And with that, Alex’s face melted and he climbed back up the bed, his arms on either side of Henry’s face. His lips pressed once to Henry’s, innocently, and then again to Henry’s forehead. He sighed, feeling his husband’s lips on his skin, relishing in it. “Thank you, Hen. So thoughtful of you, princess,” he murmured, before pulling back to get Henry’s pyjamas as well as his new ones.

Once Henry’s pyjama bottoms were properly on, navy blue with cartoon beagles printed all over, Alex found his hands in the sheets and helped pull him to his feet. Wavering slightly, Alex moved one hand to the small of his back, pressing him closer to his own chest. He felt Alex's eyes on his own face and looked down to avoid them, inspecting one of the cartoon beagles wearing a sunhat and glasses. He knew the love he would find in Alex’s eyes would be overwhelming. 

“Bad day today, Henry?” 

And Alex. He just knew. It all clicked into place for him suddenly; Henry overworking himself with the charities and fundraisers, doing the absolute most for Alex to make sure he was handling finals week well, reorganizing and keeping busy at home with little things he didn't need to fuss over. Alex had been busy, hardly home enough to sleep let alone see Henry properly, so it had been difficult to document. He was going and going and going without a second thought, and it finally seemed to catch up with him. Well, not catch up with him as much as stop him entirely, starting with his migraine. 

Henry grimaced. “Yeah, bad day.”

And then Alex was encircling him in his arms, one hand snaking up to hold at the nape of Henry's neck while the other remained on his back. Henry raised his arms up to cling to Alex's shoulders, burying his face into the crook of the other man's neck. He let a few tears fall, and Alex in response scratched at Henry's scalp lightly. “S'alright, Hen, don't have to be big and brave. I'm here.” 

Henry made a strangled noise at that, feeling the tension in his shoulders subsiding as Alex ran his hand up and down his spine. They stood like that for a while until Alex turned his head to kiss Henry's temple, coaxing him toward their bathroom. 

Later, wrapped up in the duvet and also in each other, Alex holding Henry's hand in his own on his chest, pressing kisses to anywhere he can reach, Henry comes back to himself a little. He's exhausted, and still feeling incredibly anxious, but he doesn't have a locked jaw or a blinding pain behind his eyes as much. Alex had forced some water and jaffa cakes into him, and while it wasn’t much, it was more sustenance than he had had all day. They were both in their sleep clothes now even though it was early in the night, barely 7:30 PM. Initially Alex had went to turn on a movie but he took one look at the dark circles under Henry’s eyes and thought better of it -- maybe an early night would be good for both of them. 

Henry clears his throat, breaking the silence, and Alex is already on full alert. “I didn't want you. To worry about me. But it seems as though that happened anyway,” he said, disjointedly, as if he had to force the words out.

Alex knit his eyebrows together in confusion. “Didn’t want me to worry? Henry, you’re my favorite thing to worry about. What do you mean?”

“I. I just know it’s been a lot for you, with exams and school and your studies. I didn’t want to pile on.” 

“You,” Alex started, “could never ‘pile on’. Exams and school, baby, that’s nothing. What matters is you, and if you’re needing something, anything, I will drop anything I’m doing to help you.”

Henry gulped. “What if… I don’t need something, or anything? What if I just. Need you? I can’t ask you to just disregard yo-” Alex cut him off with a kiss, sliding his tongue along Henry’s bottom lip.

“What part of ‘I’d drop anything for you’ do you not understand, princess? I said what I said, and I mean it,” and how Alex said it, so earnestly and so forcefully, well, Henry felt like maybe he could begin to believe him. 

The room was silent for a few moments before Alex spoke again. 

“I love you. Not like anything or anyone I’ve ever loved, Henry. I mean that,” he whispered into Henry’s ear, shifting so he was fully on his side facing his husband. “And when people love you they care for you, and worry about you, and I know that’s difficult to accept sometimes but I’m gonna just keep reminding you. Let me care about you Henry, please.”

“And I love you. But it’s so hard to ask for help,” Henry mumbled, looking at Alex through suddenly wet lashes. “I don’t think I’m wired to work like that, darling.”

“And people rewire things all the time, it’s just a learning curve. It’s gonna take time, but you’ll get there. I’ll help you, I’ll always help you, I promise.”

And there was just something in the way Alex was speaking, how he always spoke, with such finality that he could convince anyone of anything. He was a born leader through and through, which was one of the things Henry loved most about him. Never wavering, always leading Henry out of the dark as if it were the easiest thing in the world. 

Henry pressed his forehead to Alex’s, their noses touching. He took a deep breath in and whispered back, “Okay. I. I will try. For you.”

Alex grinned, all toothy and wild, unlinking their fingers to run his hand up and down Henry’s arm. The gentle motion was making Henry feel incredibly sleepy, and he gave in to it, his body losing all tension as it relaxed into the mattress, into Alex. 

“There we go, Hen. Just get some rest, I’ll be right here.”

“You better be,” Henry chided, “Can’t sleep without you.”

Alex chuckled. “Promise, I’m stuck to you for the foreseeable future. You’ll have to send me away to get some alone time.”

“Don’t want any alone time, just want you,” Henry mumbled, feeling himself drift off. 

Even with his eyes closed, he could feel Alex smile. “Then you’ll have me.”

[cubes-of-sugar-and-pepper]

I never though i would be that "write what u want to see in the world" kind of girl, the hyperfixation it's too strong asdfghjkl i'm doing that firstprince age regression fanfic that i want!!!!

[greatfandom]

https://chng.it/HsPfz5LtQN

I found a petition guys to keep Henry as The witcher! I doubt it will work but we can only try!

[prettyacd]

salty cookies (rwrb parenthood one shot)

words: 1,442 tags: Married Alex Claremont-Diaz/Henry Fox-Mountchristen-WindsorParents Alex Claremont-Diaz/Henry Fox-Mountchristen-Windsor, it's Alex's birthday, Baking, Cookies, Fluff, Husbands summary:

Henry and Alex are the parents of a 5 year old girl, Evelyn. Henry helps her bake cookies for Alex’s birthday. They turn out bad, he doesn't mind.

aka

Henry being a sweet dad and a little bit of fluff at the end. more on AO3

When it comes time to make the cookie dough, things inevitably get messy, but Henry doesn't let it bother him. Instead, he reassures his daughter that she's doing everything right, even as flour coats the floor and she pours twice as many chocolate chips into the bowl as the recipe requires. What they pull out of the oven, to his surprise, is a batch of beautifully golden-brown chocolate chip cookies. Henry worried that the excessive amount of chocolate chips would result in overly gooey cookies, and while they do have a soft, melt-in-your-mouth texture, they still hold their shape long enough for someone to enjoy. However, the cookies turn out to be more salty than sweet. Henry is baffled as to how this could have happened. His only theory is that Evelyn might have made some adjustments to the recipe when he briefly turned away to grab some baking paper. Despite the unexpected twist in flavour, there's no time to remake the cookies. Henry knows that Alex would prefer to put on an Oscar-worthy performance rather than admit that the cookies taste off anyway, so he doesn’t worry too much.

I just really needed to write them as parents, so here it is. if anyone would be kind enough to spare writing suggestions, I'll eat them right up. I love to yap, but my head is empty

[girlwithshipsshitshow]

Firstprince oneshot where Henry comes to spend a week at the White House, a couple of weeks after “we won”

[ninzied]

and that's how it works

a co-worker au. based on the prompt: kiss out of spite. ~2.4k.

Alex can’t stand him from the start.

He tries not to actively dislike any co-workers, as a general rule. It takes effort, and time, neither of which he wants to spend on this guy—unless said work has been affected, which, Alex has to admit that it hasn’t.

But there’s something about him that rubs Alex the wrong way the moment they get introduced.

He’s hard-working, Alex supposes, and the quality of the work isn’t lacking. He’s punctual, and to-the-point in his emails. None of those things are an issue. He does make a habit of helping himself to Alex’s office supplies, but a few missing staples and running out of printer paper don’t exactly justify a grudge.

The guy’s personality is, objectively, annoying. He has the worst taste in ties, which to Alex says a lot, and he can’t go more than five minutes without alluding to his pedigree in some way (Alex knows this because he and Nora have made a drinking game out of it at work functions).

Still, it doesn’t explain the weird surge of resentment he gets every time he looks at the guy. And not understanding it might be the most annoying part of all.

He just wishes he knew why.

.

Alex works in the legal department, but the coffee’s way better in HR down the hall, so most mornings he’s using their break room. Most mornings, and at lunchtime too, and in the afternoons more than once until Nora starts cutting him off, which. Fair.

Apparently he’s not the only one who’s discovered HR’s superior coffee, though, because he’s always there too, and always at the same time as Alex. Seriously, can he not? It’s bad enough that they share a cubicle. Now Alex has to suffer the insult of watching him fucking microwave his coffee like some kind of sociopath, too?

“Are you following me?” Alex demands to know one morning, a little ridiculously. He’s aware that HR is not the best place to be throwing accusations around, but he’s kind of had it with this guy. “Because—”

At that exact moment, the door is opening, and Henry Fox is walking into the room.

“Oh, hey,” says Alex.

Henry glances at him the way he always does, that is to say, a little bemused as to what Alex is doing here. But Henry had been his point person when he was hired six months ago, so he must know Alex works here, right? Besides, he’s been coming to drink their coffee every day of those past six months now, and he knows Henry knows this because their breaks usually overlap and the way Henry barely says two words to him half the time is starting to feel kind of personal.

“It’s Alex,” says Alex, because, well, just in case.

“Yes, I’m aware,” says Henry. After a beat that’s long enough to get awkward, he says, “Err. Right then.”

And then he smiles and waves at Hunter, who isn’t even supposed to be here either, and walks over to take the seat Hunter has saved him like they’re all in fucking high school.

Hunter says something smarmy about a new art gallery or what-the-fuck-ever he went to last night, using a slightly too-loud voice that’s clearly meant to be overheard. Alex grits his teeth.

“Oh, I’ve been meaning to go,” says Henry. “What did you think?”

Alex scowls. Fuck, he fucking hates Hunter.

.

“So how’s the transfer going?” asks Hunter one day.

Alex jerks involuntarily and splashes hot coffee all over his hand. “Motherfucker,” he says, and then, because his filter is fully shot now anyway, he glances over at Henry. “You’re transferring? Like, jobs?”

“Oh. Um. No. Departments,” says Henry. Alex supposes that’s all he’s getting—four whole words must be some kind of record—but then Henry continues. “To editing. Starting first thing next week.”

“Oh,” says Alex. “Cool. That’s…a big move.” Literally. That’s, like, whole floors away. He opens the freezer door with his good hand, and wonders what the coffee tastes like up there in editing, if it would be weird to find out sometime. He grabs a fistful of ice.

“Yes,” Henry is saying. “It will be quite the change, and I—wait. Sorry.” He stands abruptly, and Alex stares in surprise as Henry comes over and stops right in front of him. “Please put the ice down.”

“Um,” says Alex. “O…kay?”

“You should use lukewarm water,” says Henry. “Cool, at best. For your hand.”

“Oh,” says Alex. “Right. Thanks.” He turns to the sink, feeling weirdly aware of the fact that Henry is still standing there. “It’s too bad,” Alex says before Henry can decide to sit down next to Hunter again. “Kind of a big loss for HR.”

Henry’s brows knit back together. “Is it?”

Alex shrugs. “To my knowledge, no one else personally escorts new employees to their cubicles on the first day of work. Like you did with Hunter here, for example.” He levels Henry with a grin. “I was there when you showed him around, in case you don’t remember.”

Henry’s expression is inscrutable. “I do,” he says.

Alex makes a point to not look away. “Guess that wasn’t a thing back when I started.”

“Ah,” says Henry. He’s flushing for some reason now. “No, I suppose not.”

Alex considers him. He can’t decide if Henry’s playing dumb, or if he really doesn’t remember that he’d been the one to help hire Alex. Then he decides he doesn’t care, because both options make him feel like something on the bottom of Hunter’s shoe, which he hates.

“Think I’m gonna head back.” Alex looks expectantly at Hunter, who only lifts his mug like he’s still planning on being a while. Fucking fine.

He can still see the two of them through the glass pane in the door when Nora walks by with a stack of folders.

“You okay?” she asks, in a tone that says she’s guessed the answer.

“Fucking no,” says Alex anyway. “What are they even doing? Talking?”

Nora sneaks a peek through the window. “Appears so,” she deadpans. “Talking in the break room. Unbelievable.”

“I know, right?” Alex scowls, then realizes he’s left without his coffee, which makes him scowl even harder.

Nora sighs, then slips her free arm through his. “Let’s walk.”

“Do you think Hunter likes him?” asks Alex. Because—not that he’s spent a lot of time on this—Alex thinks that Hunter does, and nothing is worse than the thought of Henry liking him back because he doesn’t know any better.

Maybe Alex should say something.

Nora is looking sideways at him. Alex isn’t sure why. “I think what Hunter likes is people with a pedigree,” she says. “Anyway, what’s not to like? Henry’s a snack.”

“What?” says Alex. Objectively, Henry looks a bit like an Adonis, but, “That is so beside the point. And just because Hunter’s like Harvard royalty or whatever doesn’t give him the right to come in here and trick people into liking him when—”

“When you were here first?” Nora supplies.

“What?” Now Nora is really missing the point. “This has nothing to do with me, or with Henry. I just meant, like, you know. In general.”

“Right,” says Nora. “I must have misunderstood.”

.

Alex keeps going back to the break room, of course. The coffee’s still better, and he can keep bothering Nora even though she’s transferring soon too (to marketing two floors down, the traitor). None of those things have changed just because Henry is no longer there every day.

The one thing that does change, Alex notices with a dark kind of satisfaction, is that Hunter does not go back to the break room. In fact, he starts bringing his own coffee each morning (Starbucks, which seems very on-brand). If anything, Alex only has more reason now to escape to HR and not spend any more time around Hunter than necessary.

About a week after Henry’s transfer, Alex realizes he’s used the last of the break room’s cinnamon. Again. Goddamn it, he thinks. He’s just spent the morning in back-to-back meetings, he’s getting his coffee hours later than usual, and now this?

He rifles through the cupboards for a second and then a third time just in case there's a rogue bottle somewhere. “Fuck me,” he mutters.

“What’s the occasion?” comes a voice from the door, and Alex turns to find Henry leaning against it. His arms are crossed, and he’s doing that chin-tilty thing that apparently means Alex has zero control over what comes out of his mouth.

“What are you doing here?” Alex blurts.

Henry raises an eyebrow. “I could’ve been asking you the same thing for the past six months or so, but I haven’t.” He uncrosses his arms and comes over. “Would you believe me if I said I came here for the coffee?”

“No,” says Alex, with absolute certainty. “You don’t drink coffee.”

Henry blinks. “I could,” he argues after a moment, then straightens a little. “In fact, maybe I planned to start today.”

“Uh huh.” Alex gestures for him to have at the machine. “Do you even know how to use it?”

“Can’t be that difficult,” says Henry. He gives the machine a dubious look, and Alex doesn’t mean to but he starts to laugh.

“Here, I got it. Was about to make some for myself anyway.”

“Ah.” Henry looks abashed suddenly. Even the tips of his ears have turned pink. “Suppose you’ll be wanting this, then.” He pulls a ground cinnamon bottle from his pants pocket.

Alex shakes his head in disbelief. He could actually kiss Henry right now. “How did you—?”

“Well, you were running low last I was here,” says Henry, like that’s a totally normal thing to have noticed when Alex has never seen him touch the spice rack once. “Figured you'd be out by now, so I nicked some from the break room upstairs. No one’s been using it there anyway.”

The shock on Alex’s face makes him backtrack. “Sorry,” he says, flushing an even deeper pink now. “I—didn’t know you’d be here. You’re usually, um. Earlier. I can return it, if you’d like.” He says all this in a rush.

“No, it’s great,” Alex says emphatically. “Don’t you dare take it back.” He’s still staring a little, but that can’t be helped. Henry knows how he likes his coffee. And Henry had planned to restock the cinnamon without Alex ever knowing.

Henry clears his throat, looking around them. “You didn’t bring Hunter with you today,” he notes.

“No,” says Alex immediately. “God, no. And I don’t bring him anywhere, he just. Shows up. Honestly, I can’t stand the guy.” Shit. Maybe he shouldn’t have said that.

“Oh, thank Christ,” Henry says, looking immensely relieved. “Now that I don’t work in HR anymore, can I just say how little I enjoy his company?”

This is way better news than when Henry had first reached out to Alex with his offer letter and starting salary. He grins. “You can. In fact, please say more.”

Henry looks rueful. “I really shouldn’t.”

“It’s just that—” Alex sobers a little. “He was the only person you seemed willing to talk to.”

“It was easier, for me.” Henry takes a breath. “I feel less shy around people whose opinion of me doesn’t matter as much.” He pauses, something meaningful in the way he looks sidelong at Alex now. “I do want to be better about it.”

Alex nods, considering this. He tries hard not to smile. Probably not hard enough. “I can work with that.”

.

“You do realize neither of you work in this department,” says Nora, pulling food from the fridge.

Henry sips the tea Alex has just made him. Coffee, turns out, had been a lost cause. They’re both leaning against the counter, elbows not-quite-touching but getting closer to it every day, by Alex’s estimation.

“Do any of us, at this point?” Henry muses.

Nora shrugs. “Fair.”

“Just don’t tell You Know Who,” says Alex.

“Who’s You Know Who?” Hunter asks from the doorway. He has a confused smile on his face as he looks from Henry to Alex back to Henry again. Normally the sight of Hunter fills Alex with the most profound irritation, but now he’s feeling kind of pleased.

That’s right, he thinks smugly at Hunter: Henry is mine.

Huh. Suddenly things make a lot more sense now.

“Hey, did you get my email about the museum opening this Friday?” Hunter asks Henry, and Alex bristles instantly. Did Hunter not get the look Alex just gave him?

“Ah,” says Henry awkwardly, and it would be endearing if he didn’t also look so deeply uncomfortable. His awkwardness now is so different from the bashful kind of awkward he used to be around Alex; honestly, Alex can’t believe he’d never been able to tell between the two until now. “Actually, I’m—”

“Going,” says Alex, “already. With me.”

Henry looks at him in happy surprise. “Really?”

“Really,” Alex says firmly. And then, because he likes how dumbstruck Hunter looks right now, and because Henry doesn’t pull away when Alex puts an arm around his shoulders and he really, really likes that too, he does the only thing left that makes sense to him, which is to lean in and kiss Henry. He kind of feels like he might die when Henry kisses him back.

Fuuuuuuck.

Henry’s eyes are still closed when Alex leans back. He’s dimly aware that Nora has shooed Hunter out and closed the door behind them. He’s more acutely aware of how Henry licks his lips, then opens his eyes with an oddly vulnerable expression and says, “Alex, please tell me you didn’t just kiss me for Hunter’s benefit.”

“What? No. I mean—not exactly.” Fuck. Why can’t he use only the words that he needs? “The answer’s still no, but I might’ve used it as an excuse if I’d kissed you like two weeks ago. But that’s not why I kissed you just now, and it’s not why I’m going to kiss you again.”

“Oh, you think you’re going to kiss me again, do you,” Henry says with a hint of a smile, lifting his chin in a kind of challenge that Alex does not intend to back away from.

“One-hundred-percent,” he says, then pauses. “Unless you plan on reporting me to HR.”

“Honestly,” says Henry, “I might have to report you if you don’t.”

“Well, we can’t have that,” Alex says, very seriously, and he pulls Henry back in.