Perks of being the son of a former POTUS: Cool events, stipend for the rest of your life, hideously high social media following, ability to pursue a place in government on own terms.
Negatives of being the son of a former POTUS: Need to be dicked down bad.
Alex was pretty sure the last couple of months he'd spent aggressively campaigning for Nora's grandfather had taken their toll in the form of random boners and dreams that awakened to sleepily humping a pillow before a caffeine rush would inevitably bring him back to his senses.
While Mike Holleran was an impressive man and Alex had known him for several years since his and Nora's teenage days, he hadn't expected the amount of micromanaging the man was capable of at his age. Sure, it made Alex respect him even more, but the constant e-mails between the two had to stretch around the Earth at this point. He was pretty sure even when his mother let him loose in Texas that he hadn't worked this much.
Then again, he'd been e-mailing Henry all that time anyway, so he guessed he was most likely doing the same amount of work, just more fun given it was mostly sexual.
God, Henry.
They'd survived this long somehow, despite the ups and downs. The British Press always had a lot to say, as did Henry's relatives (Phillip especially), but so far, it had almost been half a decade and they were still somehow living for the other. Alex figured that they would have moved in by now, or at least, gotten a dog or something, but it seemed those were really just queer relationship speedrun plans and not Henry and Alex plans.
(Okay, the moving one is a big one. They've talked, Henry has a brownstone in New York as that's where his charity and shelter are based. They've been waiting till they're less busy to really hash out the logistics, but at this point, he should just rent a truck and do it while Henry's out of the country as that's about what will make the argument actually happen.)
Anyway, despite those little nitpicks he has, Alex is happy. Henry is seemingly happy and Alex is happy that Henry is happy, given he's not been for the longest time. Alex is going to be even more happy hopefully in about an hour or so when his car pulls up to the front of Prada's headquarters for their Spring/Summer Menswear Fashion show.
He might be the former First Son (which is how he got an invite in the first place), but right now, he's a boyfriend practically chomping at the bit to get his hands on his partner who due to commitments, hasn't been around for almost 4 months solid. Alex won't exactly admit this to anyone (outside of Nora who kind of gets it), but trying to dick yourself down with toys and other ways of sexually pleasuring yourself in place of the physically alive? Kind of a bummer.
He and Henry try of course. Phone sex has become a go-to, so has Facetime mutual masturbation. It's not the same, however, as having Henry's hands running over his abs or Henry's lips against his neck or better, his knee in his crotch. Those things can't be replaced by a device (despite the world trying to catch up) and Alex would never want them to.
Point is, he's thirsty as hell and desperate now he's so close (no pun intended) to seeing his Prince again that he's willing to do whatever he has to somehow irritate enough people for Henry to have to "put him in his place", that meaning something completely different to what most assumed it would have meant, as Henry wouldn't be scolding him in the slightest. Maybe. He'll see in due course. (Oh, god, that's a Henry phrase if he ever heard it.)
Of course, Amy (who is still looking after him, god help her) can see the cogs in his head moving as soon as the car slows down and she's already got a hand on her service weapon. "What are you about to do?"
Alex just grins before he reaches for his black suit jacket. "Giving the press something to talk about, obviously. Gotta promote the new campaign after all. Mike won't mind."
"It's a wonder you haven't gotten me fired yet"
"It's because you love me, Amy baby."
"Save the baby talk for your boyfriend, Claremont-Diaz. Hopefully, he's not spontaneously combusted by the time we get inside."
Henry isn't bored. At least, that's what he tells himself as he and Shaan wander the show floor around the crudely placed stage for the models to walk down, fielding greetings and small talk with others in attendance. Given he's a prince, everyone wants to talk to him, but he's not exactly wanting to talk to them.
Actually, to be honest, he just wants the entire room to shut up. He's sick of everything right now. His meetings, his commitments - he knows he's obligated, but sometimes, he seriously wishes he had been like his cousin and left it all to be with the person he loves. As he's said before, he was just the spare.
Ah, but he would feel too guilty and Phillip, the great arse, already made it clear if he left that unsavoury things would happen. It's not like the entire British monarchy rested on his shoulders, that was Grandfather's job and he had no desire to take it over.
The press and his brother liked to say otherwise.
Honestly, it was times like this when he wished he had Alex around, just so he could fall into his arms and never resurface. Alex's heartbeat was good for calming him and he'd seek it out more than once a day if things ended up getting to him. Luckily enough, Alex, even with his own business, was always eager to reciprocate when it came to physical affection and Henry - well he just counted his lucky stars that Alex had been and was being patient with him.
(Well, alright, not entirely patient, given he was still going on about them moving in together in New York when he's finally able to live in the Brownstone full time. However, that wasn't really an issue of Alex moving in. It was more renovations and legal documents in regards to it that needed fixing - which is perfectly understandable and he doesn't want Alex to deal with.)
Despite that setback, Henry is grateful Alex has forced his feet into the grounds Henry keeps trying to dig through and stayed among other things. It's one of the many traits he'd found irritating about Alex at first, but grew to love and at the moment, miss.
Christ, he really missed him.
He had wondered briefly, as he was getting fitted and dressed that morning before he'd left England for the short flight over on his jet, if Alex would be in attendance at the fashion show, but given he was no longer a completely public figure, Henry found it unlikely. Most than likely, he was sitting in Nora's office complaining about campaign material with a bottle of half drunk wine next to him. Henry almost shivered at the thought, but managed to hold off at the last second.
He was just about to turn and check once again what the time was to see when this show started when a commotion hatched in the middle of the room and spread outwards, his own phone starting to constantly buzz while chirping sounds and text notifications filled the room, people hastily going to look at their phones to his confusion.
His screen had been filled with mentions when he's gotten around to pulling out his device and he couldn't even unlock the screen as they just poured in. It's only when Shaan clears his throat and shows Henry his phone screen does Henry's mouth go dry, tweets appearing as fast as rain back home, geotagged from where he wants to melt into the floor right now seeing the images and gifs across the screen. "That fucking menace."
Alexander Gabriel Claremont-Diaz is outside Prada, looking worshipful in a pair of tailored green suit trousers, but no shirt, peacocking from the car for several moments before he's handed his jacket to cover himself from someone on his detail and walked to the door, slipping inside and leaving an entire platoon of cameras as well as himself, mesmerized.
"Should I go and find Mr. Claremont-Diaz for you, sir?" Shaan's voice is monotone, but it clearly gives away he can see through Henry perfectly. He doesn't know whether that's a good thing or a bad thing anymore.
"I think you…should, yes." Henry composes himself long enough to get that sentence out, but it's hard with his mouth already filling with enough saliva to use as a lubricant and his already tight suit becoming all the more restrictive. "I need to have a word with him about his…transgressions. That stunt is no good for anyone, he's currently helping the former Vice President run for office. God help us when London gets a hold of it, the palace will never let me hear the end of it."
It's wafer thin, but it's all he has as Shaan nods and leaves to locate Alex while he sequesters away from the stage where everyone's still talking to one of the more empty hallways on the side of the building, chest hurting from how heavily his heart is hammering inside of it. Is this almost how Alex felt all those years before, waiting for him in the Red Room?
Turns out, he doesn't exactly have time to think about it in that much detail as two seconds after the thought comes to him, there's another ruckus and Alex is being thrown at him by his equerry and pushed into a nearby room, the door shutting behind them.
Well, fuck.
Well fuck. "What the hell, man!?"
Okay, Alex expected that his little stunt wouldn't exactly be the best move.
Obviously, the whole of Italy didn't mind his entire upper half being shown off, given he'd had a billion articles written about his body when he was with his parents in office - but it seemed Prada had a problem with as no sooner as he's gotten actually clothed (as in put on his singlet and jacket and stuff) and inside, he's being /detained/.
Two burly as hell security guards that look like they might be part of the Italian mafia (could they? Alex knew it was a thing, but fuck man, that would not be great for voting back home if he possessed off an entire section of the population) had taken them away from where they had entered and were now asking him questions in Italian and English, if which most of his answers needed to be translated anyway by Cash and Amy.
God, his mother was going to kill him. Scratch that, Nora and Mike were going to kill him, he already caused one political stunt when he and Henry got together during his mother's term, another would totally give him a reputation.
(Not like he didn't already have one, but you know.)
He really hadn't thought this through in the slightest. Another Claremont-Diaz disaster.
However, just as he's certain the guards are about to throw them out, a beacon of light in the form of Henry's entire timekeeper (and Zahra's husband) appears in the doorway looking entirely too prepared for this shit and to the protest of the security, starts pushing Alex aggressively on the back to propel him forward through the doors and then though people as he flounders, his feet almost slipping out from underneath him at some points from how fast they seem to be going.
He doesn't know where Amy and Cash are, not the guards, but when he's suddenly thrown and collides with a hard object, he actually doesn't care. All he cares about is wondering what the fuck Shaan's problem is and where's Henry and why the fuck was he about to get arrested and where are his frien- oh.
Oh, that's where Henry is. Right in front of his face. His face that had hit Henry's chest.
Thank god.
Thank god.
Henry honestly didn't know if he could have stood there one more second knowing Alex was out there, looking devilishly good to boot and not in his arms.
Call Henry slightly possessive if you must, but the moment he'd seen Alex in just his pants, his veins had lit up with an immediate hit of want and need and now Alex was there with him in a room where they were practically by themselves, impracticalty was thrown out.
Sure, there were people literally in the next room over and he could focus on the fact that Shaan was the one who'd put them in here (a thought that had Henry both thankful and horrified), but right now, his focus was on Alex's shoulders, hidden by that ridiculous black jacket and the strap of white underneath that was calling for his teeth to take if off.
So, after a moment of staring at eachother, Henry's entire being sizzles before his expression turns what he could only describe vaguely as feral and Alex is against a wall, gasping as Henry's lips leave their mark all over his skin.
It's not long however until Henry surprisingly finds himself being flipped over, which isn't exactly what normally happens, Alex's fingers gripping onto him with a fervour that he's never seen come from the Latino other than when he's drunk (or dancing of course) as the latter steers them off the wall and towards somewhere unknown, Henry's bottom colliding with some sort of platform and pushed up onto it with Alex's hips insistence.
Looking up as Alex's tongue glides down his Adam's apple, he's slightly startled to see a blank faced mannequin staring back at him, but then again, they were in a fashion house, so there was bound to be mannquins. There were probably more. Doesn't matter. The only thoughts that Henry really has now are that this is truly almost like the Red Room scenario, only it seems Alex has a different idea from what may have happened if they hadn't been interrupted the first time by the fact that his hands are on Henry's belt and trying to rip the zipper underneath it apart with bare strength.
Henry can honestly say he's never seen Alex so needy before and while old him, closeted him, would have balked at the very idea of having sex between a bunch of statues in a semi-public space within earshot of reporters and high class people, current him is not even fighting the urge to check if there are cameras in the room, just letting Alex manhandle him into whatever Alex wanted him to be, feeding out this desperate streak to his own enjoyment as Alex's hands and nails ran down his thighs, taking his underwear with them.
When Alex's lips leave and all he can feel is the cold air in the room from the air conditioning for several minutes, Henry can feel his face scrunch up in disappointment behind his closed eyes. Was all of this just a ruse, a tease? Typical Alex.
After another handful of minutes go by, Henry is about to protest (or maybe beg) for Alex to continue when he feels Alex's hand on his chin, hovering near his mouth and chin. It feels wet, but not wet enough to help things move together, like for example, if they were to have sex. Ah, so he must have pulled away trying to make himself slideable enough to hop on Henry's cock.
Well, Henry can certainly help with that.
Henry lets loose with the drool that had been clogging his throat earlier in front of Shaan and the other guests, a sizeable dip filling in Alex's hand that he can feel against his lips as Alex groans, talking nonsense about missing him and how he can't wait to feel in dick spearing his insides, all of which make Henry randier than ever and craving the same.
It's been all too long since he'd felt Alex's body against his in that way.
The return of the feeling doesn't disappoint either, for as soon as he's pushed back, Alex is sinking onto him and meeting his open trousers at the base, symphonic sounds coming from themselves and below as Alex practically rides Henry, the prince having to do barely any work, but putting in the effort as if it was more than just a quick fuck in someone else's room.
He doesn't know in the interim where Alex's pants have gone, but given his enthusiasm for not wanting to wear a shirt, he can only guess as he bites down on Alex's neck so that he can push the other down deeper, the already bottoming out feeling he knows Alex already is having clearly sending him into a state of nirvana, the muscles tensing straight up his back so much so that Henry suspects he may have white eyes.
Somehow, they don't get in trouble fore desecrating the place (not does Alex get rearrested) and when they emerge, equally thoroughly wrecked several moments later, Shaan is just standing there politely with Amy and Cash in tow, two glasses of champagne in hand. "Ah, there you are gentlemen. The show starts in 5 minutes. Are we ready to take our seats?"
"Well, I was already uh…well seated-" Alex starts, but Henry cuts him off by snatching his hand with a rueful, clearly suffering grin (though he wasn't suffering in the slightest whatsoever), face red. "Yes, I think so. I told him off for his behaviour. Terribly sorry you had to get involved out there with the guards. Alex…um… explained everything."
Amy's eyebrow just twitched, before she muttered "Sometimes I wonder why you people pay me.", sounding a hell of a lot like Zahra before she stalked off with Cash and later Shaan when he hande d over their champagne.
"To us?" Alex held his glass up and Henry rolled his eyes. "Yes, to us, you animal." Henry clinked his glass to the others and then, laced their fingers together. "Come now darling, let's go outside before they think we're cannibalising the mannequins or worse, participating in the show."
"Well, I mean, you'd look good in one of those tiny-"
"Finish that sentence and I'll make you regret finishing on me."