Chapter Text
JUNE 2021
“Is that the tie you wore on election night?” Alex asks, head poking around the doorframe.
Henry takes his eyes away from the mirror, turning to carefully scan every inch of Alex’s face. He lingers on his cheeky grin, as if he’s never seen it before. As if he’s counting every pearly tooth. He lets a smirk creep forward. “I thought you wouldn’t notice.”
“What do you take me for,” Alex gasps dramatically, followed by that same devious grin. Henry can’t help but reach out and press a cold hand to Alex’s jaw. He pulls Alex forward and kisses him gently.
“You’re right. I don’t give you near enough credit,” Henry tuts, rolling his eyes slightly.
“Don’t patronize me.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it.” Henry turns back to the mirror, scooping a small mound of pomade in his hand and returns to styling his hair. “I figured since we’re back in Austin, now is as good of an occasion as ever,” He says, flaunting the tie in the mirror.
“I think it’s perfect,” Alex chuckles. It’s been nearly 7 months since election night, and every day Alex falls in love with Henry all over again. He thinks back over the past year and wonders how this happened to him. A life with his literal fairytale prince. Alex had never been one for fairytale romance. Not until he met Henry.
A bright smile slides over Henry’s mouth at the praise. He glances over again to see Alex, still waiting at the doorframe.
“Babe,” Alex calls.
“Yes love?”
“How much longer are you going to be?”
“Oh god, do you need to–” Henry slips past Alex who caresses his waist before he exits the bathroom. “Call me conceited but I figured you were just admiring.”
“Well, we can’t rule that out,” Alex winks before shutting the bathroom door.
Henry wanders down the hall, stopping to admire the family portraits and hand drawn pictures. This is the first time they have been back to Alex’s childhood home since Election night. He remembers that night like it was yesterday. Walking through the threshold and feeling the cozy air of Alex’s childhood fill his lungs. The house is definitely no Kensington Palace, but he thinks maybe that’s why he’s drawn to it. And yet still, there is a bitterness that gnaws at him knowing that the warm memories plastered on the walls aren’t his. That he can never have those. But Alex can, and that makes it alright. Alex loves this house, and so Henry loves it.
“Shit!” Alex yells, kicking the bathroom door open. “Henry!”
“Yes?” Henry runs down the hall the second he hears his name. “Yes, what is it?”
“June just texted me, Nora isn’t going to be able to make it,”
“Oh, Alex,” Henry sighs, setting a hand on his shoulder. He’s slightly relieved the news isn’t as grave as he expected. “I’m sorry, I know you were looking forward to seeing her.”
“Yeah,” Alex says, defeated. Normally he wouldn’t be as distraught, but this will be his first time participating in a pride parade and Nora is basically a veteran at this point. He and Henry are still very much getting used to the whole openly queer public figure life and Nora’s experience and confidence provides a much needed adrenaline rush.
“What happened? I thought she was done with pet sitting?”
“I guess not… Can’t she just ditch the damn dog?” Alex presses his hand to his forehead, visibly stressed. Henry wraps his arms around Alex’s waist from the back gently and rests his head in the crook of his neck. He pecks a kiss right in the bend.
“Alex,” he coos, “It’s the principle of it, my love. It’ll be okay. Besides, it’s a parade not the Gettysburg Address.”
“You’re right,” Alex cranes his neck backwards, burying Henry in his curls. Henry is always right, even if Alex knows he’s just as worried. He has a habit of hiding what he’s thinking behind his glassy eyes and placid smile, but Alex always knows. Henry’s gotten better about it in the past months, going more regularly to therapy and hiding less behind a facade. But Alex knows how hard it is for him, and would never want to pressure him into something he’s uncomfortable with.
“Well, at least June is here,” Henry says, trying to brighten the mood. “And speaking of June we’re going to be late to dinner if you don’t quit moping.”
“Right again,” Alex smiles.
***
June is in her city view suite at the Austin Four Seasons, zipping up her navy blue pencil skirt, when her phone starts ringing. She jumps at the sudden noise and finishes pulling the zipper up before grabbing her phone off the bed. Nora’s face illuminates the screen.
“Hey Nora, what’s up?”
“Heyyy June,” Nora replies, a slight drag in her voice.
“What’s wrong?” June says, her voice mildly accusatory. She’s known Nora long enough to tell when something’s up. That and the fact that Nora almost exclusively texts. Maybe the occasional FaceTime, but never just a straight up call.
“Wow, no fooling you,” Nora mutters. She lets out a long sigh. “Sooo… you know how I was pet-sitting right?”
“Yeah,”
“Yeah, so um my neighbors’ flight from Bali got canceled and now they aren’t going to be back until the day after tomorrow,” Nora admits, a slight squeak in her voice as if she’s bracing to be punched.
June lingers on the news, and then says, “so you’re not coming?” There’s no accusation in her voice, simply clarification.
“I want to, June, I really do! But I can’t leave this geriatric fucking dog alone for two seconds without it pissing on the floor or something,” she groans.
“Is there anyone else that can watch it?”
“No, trust me I’ve tried,” There’s a shuffling on the line. “Hey, no! D– don’t touch my shoe… you goblin!” Nora wrestles with the dog, a high pitched bark tunneling its way into June’s eardrum. A few seconds go by and Nora is back on the line. “I’m going to kill this dog.”
“Good idea,” June rejoices. “Then you can still come? We’ll arrange the funeral later”
“Sorry bug, no can do,” Nora had pried the nickname out of Alex. It didn’t take much. It sounds more sinister coming from Nora though.
“Damn, Alex is gonna be so disappointed,” June tuts. “Well, I guess you better call him.”
“About that… June could you, um, maybe… tell him for me?” The squeaky tone is back.
“What? No no no absolutely not!”
“Oh come on! I can’t break his heart like that… pretty please?”
“Nora, seriously? And during pride month?” June retorts.
Nora lets out a stifled scoff. “Don’t ‘during pride month’ me Catalina June. I’m bi too you asshole. I’m the blueprint! Consider it my pride present.”
June contemplates for a second before letting out a melodramatic sigh. “Ugh. Fine I’ll tell him. But you owe me big time.” She concedes. “And pride presents aren’t a thing.”
“I’ll make it a thing. I loooooove you June,” Nora makes an excessively wet kissing sound in the microphone.
“I love you too, you idiot. Now go give the dog it’s meds or whatever.”
“My neighbors better be big tippers,” Nora says sharply. “Well, I’ll let you go. You’re the best.”
“Yeah, yeah. Bye.” June says, clicking the end call button before flopping back on her plush hotel mattress, hands over her face, warm breath filling her palms.
***
The streets of Austin welcome Alex and Henry with warm southern sun and a delicate spring breeze. Their security personnel, of course, follow closely behind. Amy and Cash, both being members of the LGBTQ+ community, were obvious choices to bring with Alex to a pride parade. Amy had just finished embroidering a jean jacket with a bi flag for Alex, and he cried more than he would like to admit when he received it.
Alex has been swept up in a whirlwind since the email leak. With confronting the queen, his mom winning the election, and all sorts of press attention, it hasn’t really hit him just how real everything is. It comes back to him frequently, a cold sweat starting at the base of his neck and clawing its way across his skin. He has dreams of everything that could have gone better, and everything that could have gone much, much, worse.
Sometimes, selfishly, he is grateful. He feels a sense of relief that the world knows his deepest secret. That he no longer has to hide. That every last ounce of privacy was ripped away and he doesn’t have to wallow in the anxiety any longer. That he can hold Henry’s hand and walk through Austin. That Henry can be his, fully.
And other times, when he springs awake, Henry still clutched delicately in his arms, he wonders how things would be different if the leak never happened. Would Henry still be trapped in Kensington, waiting? Would Mary’s sharp tongue catch his delicate heart in a pitfall? He tries not to think about it too hard.
He has Henry now, and that’s all that matters. All that he’s ever wanted, even when he hadn’t realized it yet.
“This is the place, right?” Henry asks, pointing towards the sign.
Alex snaps out of his thoughts. “Y– yeah right,” he says.
“Perfect, let’s see if June is inside already.”
As soon as Henry swings the door open he catches June’s eyes, equally as warm as Alex’s (a family trait he adores), followed by her waving hand and infectious smile. “Over here,” she mouths.
“Oh, Henry!! It’s been too long!” June squeals, throwing her arms around him.
“So lovely seeing you June,” Henry laughs.
“Oh, okay. I see how it is,” Alex chides. He throws up his arms in mock disapproval. “I didn’t wanna see you either.”
“Come here you big idiot,” June grabs Alex by his arm and pulls him into a warm hug.
“It’s okay, I know Henry’s your favorite. He’s my favorite too,” Alex chuckles. He’s missed June terribly, though he’ll never admit that to her lest the earth somehow cracked open and the apocalypse was upon them. She is his anchor through thick and thin, always telling him what he needs to hear and sometimes, only sometimes, what he wants to hear.
“So, how have things been–” June starts before being interrupted by a loud ding. Alex and June both check their phones and erupt in ferocious laughter. “Oh. My. God,” June chokes. Against the wall Amy begins to stand in alarm before Alex dismisses her with a wave.
“What, let me see!” Henry begs. Alex slides over to show Henry the screen, lit up with a picture of a PhotoShopped poster of Alex wearing a bi flag cape and the caption “Bi Icon”. Below the picture is a message from Oscar that says, simply: happy pride bi icon. Alex appreciates his dad’s aggressive support, even if it makes him want to go off grid occasionally.
Amidst the giggles, their waitress shows up to take some drink orders and casually asks for a picture, mildly starstruck. Alex knows they aren’t exactly anonymous, but it still catches him off guard every time. Henry hates pictures, but obliges politely. Before the waitress has a chance to snap the photo, a tall figure with a burly beard and murky eyes strides closer.
“What the hell d’you think you’re doing here,” he barks. The waitress’s arm goes limp and the group’s faces darken. Eating, Alex thinks of responding, but bites his tongue. “We don’t want your pansy asses round here!” the man snarls. He lifts his foot to take another step before Amy and Cash are in front of them, yelling for the man to back away.
“You’re what’s wrong with the world. Fuckin’ filthy,” he yells, his mouth almost frothing at the words. The manager has taken notice and he, along with Amy and Cash, are ushering the man out of the restaurant. He throws whatever he can reach, yells and snarls like a rabid dog the whole way out. The whole restaurant turns, burning eyes locked on them. Alex catches a phone camera flash in his periphery. So much for anonymity.
“I am so sorry,” the manager approaches. “I promise you are more than welcome.”
The reassurance is nice, but it doesn’t make it hurt less. It doesn’t make the eyes go away. It doesn’t stop Henry’s mouth from pinching or his knees from shaking. They continue their meal without incident, and Alex’s hand stays firmly grasped in Henry’s nervous palm.
This isn’t the Austin Alex knows. The place he loves. He knows that Texas still has a lot of work to do. He isn’t naive. But he never imagined he would see it firsthand, and surely not with Henry.
***
“Very… colorful,” Henry murmurs, very obviously uncomfortable. Parades have never been his thing, and especially not when he’s part of the procession. The attention makes him queasy. Pez is much better suited for these types of things.
“Oh cheer up!” Alex puts an arm around Henry’s shoulder before flashing his movie star smile at some passersby, camera’s blinking and chatter erupting around them. The parade hasn’t technically started yet, but that doesn’t quell the attention that follows them. At least it’s good attention this time.
“I am perfectly cheery, thank you,” Henry responds, forcing a pearly smile. Alex laughs and digs into his ribs, a small grunt following.
“Look, you just have to look pretty, which isn’t very hard for you, and smile. They’ll love you! You’re a literal prince.”
Henry is very much aware.
Alex pulls Henry off to the side into a row of vendor stalls. The streets are alive with laughter and color and a warm energy that Alex is much more familiar with. The Texas sunshine reflects off of Henry’s high cheekbones and glitters in his tawny hair and Alex might faint at the sight. They walk through the stalls, stopping to buy some matching pride flag buttons from a local artist who can’t decide who they’re more excited to meet, and Alex buys some mandatory elote just to watch Henry delicately pick it apart. It’s moments like these that make Alex’s heart nearly phase out of his chest and float away. He will never get tired of the feeling.
They reconvene with June, who has been FaceTiming Nora in a bout of antagonism.
“I’m writing you out of my will, June,” Nora growls tinnily over the speaker as June shows off what she’s missing.
“Well, luckily I’m in no need of limited edition Funko Pops, so I think I’ll be okay,” June sneers. “Anyways, Alex is here so I better go before he mauls you through the phone,” June ends the call before Nora has a chance to respond. She turns to face Alex and Henry, a smudge of crema still clinging to Alex’s face.
“You got a little something,” June licks her thumb and swipes it across the apple of his cheek.
“Gross!” Alex whines.
“Oh, hush. You need to look good for your big appearance. Keep those approval ratings up mister hotshot,” she mocks.
Alex is no stranger to public appearances. He used to revel in the rush of the limelight, but it’s been increasingly more difficult to find enjoyment in the public eye since his life was put on display for everyone’s entertainment. He thinks of the sleepless nights, the dark sky escaping beneath his heavy gaze. The orange morning glow eventually grasping at the edges of his vision. There was no difference between day and night then. He didn’t sleep much.
Henry’s grasp grounds him once more.
“I didn’t even get to write a speech for you this time,” June beckons.
“I’m sure there will be another opportunity,” Henry chimes in, his voice sweet as summer figs, and Alex groans at the notion of speeches.
***
The turnout is bigger than any of them had anticipated. Alex knows that people are excited for them to be there, the internet made that obvious enough, but he hasn’t really put it into perspective. He’s surprised to find out that people have flown from across the country, and even internationally just to attend. A singe of hope sparks up in his chest at the thought.
Congress Avenue is flooded with people, their heads bobbing like buoys on open waves. Alex and Henry follow the lead of Amy, who is guiding them towards their starting point for the procession, and Alex idly thinks that he’s never seen this many different colors before. This many didn’t exist last time he checked.
He looks over to Henry, whose eyes are glazed with a familiarly somber expression. Alex grabs his hand and Henry flinches under the touch before the tension leaves his muscles.
“First son, your royal highness,” A figure nods their head in greeting, their eyes creasing happily. “My name is Aja and I’ll be directing the procession today. We are so glad to have you!”
Aja is tall with dark skin and pastel colored hair pulled in long, tight braids. They have face paint in the colors of the non-binary flag on their cheeks in slim stripes. There is a comforting aura about them, which Henry seems to soak up, a soft glow suddenly returning to his skin.
“Please, call me Henry,” he offers.
“Oh, yeah, you can just call me Alex,” Alex takes the cue, extending his hand for a hand shake.
“Right, well Henry, Alex, let me show you to your position,” Aja says, grinning. “We put something special together for you. And if you hate it… it wasn’t my idea.”
“Oh dear,” Henry mutters under his breath. Alex chuckles nervously. They turn the corner and before them is a float decorated with soft white ribbons and matching flowers, an unmistakable model wedding cake mid-topple balancing on the top. Alex can’t decide whether to laugh or yell, so he does a mixture of both.
Aja winces behind him, preparing for the worst. Henry covers his face in embarrassment, but a soft laugh escapes his lips, and soon he’s looking at Alex and they both start cackling uncontrollably. Aja joins them, relief spilling over their brow.
“Well, what do you think?” Aja asks cautiously.
“It’s a bit on the nose,” Alex sneers playfully. “But I think you are a genius!” He lets out a loud roar of a laugh, the kind that makes Henry melt.
“Well, for your sake and mine, I’m glad you like it. We’ll just have you stand right here in front of the… cake.” Aja says, a delicate playfulness in their tone. “Just smile and wave, and most importantly have a good time. Please, don’t hesitate if you have any questions!”
“Perfect, thank you,” Alex calls.
“Oh, and one more thing.” There’s a slight pause. “Could I get a picture?” Aja asks, a velvety blush rising on their cheeks. “Y’all are kind of role models to me.”
Alex freezes momentarily. He had never thought of himself as such. A role model. He’s been called lots of things, many of them profane, but role model is a new addition to the list. He looks at Henry, who looks equallycharmed, and nods fiercely. “Yeah, of course!”
They snap a few pictures and Aja is off, leaving Alex and Henry with a toppling cake, yet again.
***
The parade starts as most do.
Aja steps out to welcome everyone and get the crowd excited with their booming voice, followed by some volunteers shooting T-shirt cannons into the group, a rain of colorful confetti, and a frenzy of cheer. Alex, peering around the corner, points out the odd “History, huh?” T-shirt scattered throughout the crowd and Henry blushes feverishly.
Their position is closer to the end of the procession, to keep people from leaving early Alex smugly assumes, so he and Henry watch from the sidelines before they are needed atop their float. The opening act is a rather large marching band playing a rendition of “Born This Way” by Lady Gaga and the crowd goes absolutely feral.
Henry squeezes Alex’s shoulder firmly as he spots June waving from across the crowd. She is interrupted by a journalist and they can’t help but laugh. June’s expression is not quite as content. She dismisses the young reporter quickly before drawing her phone out of her purse, making eye contact with Alex.
“This is getting really old,” June leads as the call connects. “They didn’t even ask about me, just you and Henry. I mean really? I know I’m not the scandalous one but come on!” she sighs.
“Sorry bug,” Alex chuckles. “We can’t all have my feverish charm. Well, what did you tell ‘em?”
“I told them they should try and find you instead,” June replies, a mischievous grin creeping across her face.
“Good thing Amy’s here then,” Alex sneers.
“We’ve also got the PPOs,” Henry adds from the side.
“You get double security, no fair!” June says, the syllables puffing out in an exaggerated sigh. Before Alex can get another cheeky remark in, he’s interrupted by an electronic melody blasting from the speakers.
Henry’s face lights up as he instantly recognizes the song – “Sissy That Walk” by RuPaul. A proud expression shines in his eyes, his Drag Race indoctrination finally paying off. Henry briefly wonders if Nora is watching over him like some omnipotent spirit.
In front of them, a pair of horses march forward, each mounted by an extravagantly dressed local drag queen holding a giant pride flag. The flags are positioned so as to obscure the equally extravagant float following closely behind. Just as the beat drops on the chorus, they raise their flags to reveal an entire group of queens wearing bedazzled army uniforms, performing a choreographed dance number on top of the float. Henry almost squeals. Not quite, but almost.
“These are my troops,” Henry says decisively.
“This isn’t even your country, your royal highness,” Alex jabs and Henry’s mouth drops open in mock disgust.
Henry turns his attention back to the dance routine. “Maybe not, but they are my people,” he says with a huff of air.
The parade continues with more floats, dance routines, marching bands, and performers. The crowd swells with cheer as every act passes, and soon enough Amy taps Alex on the shoulder, letting him know that they need to return to their positions.
***
Keeping balance on a parade float is something Henry never thought he would add to his repertoire, but then again neither is dating the first son of the United States. He grips Alex’s hand firmly, the skin turning pale under the taught pressure, as the float begins to turn. At first sight of their “Cakegate” reenactment the crowd whoops violently, laughter sprinkled among the shouts.
He raises his free hand against the strong Texas sun and through his fingers he can see just how large the crowd is. It reminds him of the crowd outside Buckingham all those months ago. A tear nags at the corner of his eye at the thought, but he blinks rapidly to usher it back.
“Look at all of them,” Alex says, his voice just barely above a whisper.
“It’s beautiful,” Henry chokes, the stray tear betraying his efforts. In the crowd below he spots June recording them. There are shimmering streams running down her cheeks, which she swipes at frantically. Henry can’t fathom how anyone could hate something like this.
“Hey,” Alex starts, rubbing the back of Henry’s palm with his thumb. “I love you. Like, a lot.”
A stifled sob breaks from Henry’s chest. He smiles, free and open. “You have no idea.”
“I think I have a little idea.”
Alex grabs a handful of beaded necklaces from a small sack Aja had handed them labeled “throw me” and tosses them into the crowd. Hands spring forward, grabbing at the air.
Henry gasps as people start tugging on the beads. “Don’t worry, there’s more!” He shouts, reaching into the bag for a handful.
Just before he releases the beads he notices a small girl, no older than 10, standing next to who he assumes is her mother, holding a cardboard sign reading “Prince Henry! It’s my first pride too! You can do it!”. She meets his gaze and lights up, her eyes glowing like embers and a porcelain smile carved into her delicate face. He makes a mental note to find her and take a picture later, then lobs a beaded necklace in her direction.
Before he can blink, the float lurches to a stop.
“What’s going on?” He asks, turning to Alex who looks just as startled.
“I don't know,” Alex mutters scanning the crowd. “Wait, what’s that?” he asks, pointing in front of the float. A group is forming, all dressed in matching black and red T-shirts. People start jumping the barricade, startling a commotion out of the attendees as they join the mob. Henry feels a familiar pit forming in his stomach.
Upon further inspection, he notices the shirts have writing. “Pervert Prince, Go Home!”
Henry feels his vision blur. Alex says something, but he can’t make out the sounds. All he can hear is yelling from the mob in front of them, vitriolic and bitter. A handful of parade goers hop the barricades themselves, taking matters into their own hands. A woman wearing a trans flag cape punches one of the protesters and grabs a sign out of their hands, throwing it to the ground. From there, a shuffled fight breaks out, streams of color mixing with the dark blacks and reds.
Amy, who had been seated behind them on the float, stands swiftly and ushers Henry and Alex back instinctively. Her eyes cut across the crowd.
Everything happens so quickly that Henry barely has time to react.
The first thing he notices is a loud sound like a firework.
Then, he notices Alex. Only Alex.
He notices the harsh shadows chiseling the geometry of his face. The color seeping from his skin and his eyes going wide before glassy orbs start falling down his cheeks. Henry passively registers Alex’s hands, warmer than usual, reaching out and framing his jaw. Alex’s face writhes with a horrific expression, his eyebrows creasing boldly. He starts to yell something. Henry can’t hear a word.
The last thing Henry notices is an absurd warmth in his abdomen, followed by a sharp pang. His nerves sing at the unusual sensation. He drags his hand across his torso apprehensively, eyes still trained on Alex's contorted face.
When he pulls his hand away he sees a deep, cold red seeping into the fissures of his palm. “Shit.”