Work Text:
1 Like a tattoo
As I reveal my shame to you
I wear it like a tattoo
Alex has been looking forward to finally getting his soulmark. The night before heʼd been so excited to finally know, he didn’t sleep at all. Okay, maybe it had been the three million coffees that heʼd had in order to keep awake during an especially pretentious lecture from his Foreign Policies professor that kept him bouncing off the walls. But still, so fucking exciting to know who his other half would be, right?
So the minute the clock struck twelve on his birthday, he snuck away from his own birthday party to find a mirror. He can feel his soulmark on his left bicep. Time to find out who heʼs going to spend the rest of his life with, right? He peels off his shirt carefully. There in the mirror it is.
Alex stares at the soulmark in horror. “You gotta be fucking kidding me.ˮ This had to be the worst cosmic joke ever. Like in all of history.
Nora comes barrelling through the door before Alex can finish processing. “Alejandro, there you are-“ She skids to halt next to him, noticing his shellshocked expression. “Whoa, whatʼs up, bro?ˮ
Thatʼs a pretty loaded question, isnʼt it? He shrugs helplessly. Which of course draws Noraʼs eyes to his stupid, world-destroying soul mark.
“Oh, itʼs happened! Who is it?ˮ Nora asks, taking a step into his direction. Alex claps a hand over his soulmark, hiding it from view.
Nora looks him up and down, frowning. “It canʼt be that bad?ˮ
Alex glares at her. “But it fucking is.ˮ
“Is it a man?ˮ
“How did you know that?ˮ Alex asks, flabbergasted.
Nora puts her hand over the one still holding his biceps and squeezes.
“Alejandro, everyone but you knows about your latent bisexual tendencies,ˮ she says gravely. Before Alex can protest, she continues. “I observe data points, and youʼre pretty much a 50%-50% kind of guy. Donʼt think I forgot about Liam. Or how youʼve thirsted over that exchange student from France.ˮ
“He spoke French to me. Thatʼs kind of unfair to take into account,ˮ Alex points out. “Still a data point.ˮ
Alex considers that and concedes, “Itʼs not because itʼs a man.ˮ
Nora gasps dramatically. “Wow, then it must be really bad. I expected you to have like a full-blown life crisis over the late realisation that you might be bisexual. On a scale of 1 to 10, how bad is it, where one is the nice barista youʼve been checking out and ten is the leader of a hostile nation.ˮ
“12,ˮ Alex grumbles.
“Which would make it a leader of a hostile nation whoʼs also ugly?ˮ Nora asks flippantly. “Come on, just show me.ˮ
Alex reluctantly takes his hand away to reveal his soulmark to Nora. Objectively itʼs very pretty. Golden ink forming a delicate design of a stylised fox lying in front of a round tower flying a flag with a saint Andrewʼs cross. Fox. Mountchristen. Windsor. Which Alex knew, because, he hate-read all information he could find on Henry the minute that fateful Rio trip was over.
Nora stares at it for a full 60 seconds before laughing her head off. Alex glares at her the full five minutes it takes for her to catch her breath again. He knows for a fact that he can give a very impressive stink eye, and heʼs taking full advantage of that tonight. It feels like he deserves to, all things considered.
“You think this itʼs funny that my nemesis is my fucking soulmate?ˮ he asks, once Nora has caught her breath.
“Of course it is, Henry has wanted to dick you down forever.ˮ
Alex searches for a reply in his suddenly empty brain and comes with nothing. His body thinks itʼs a great idea to gape at her. “You canʼt be for real. I want it gone. I want it gone now.ˮ
“Alejandro, you canʼt alter your fate. Itʼs a soulmark, not a misguided tattoo.ˮ
Which gives Alex an idea. “Watch me,ˮ he says and starts putting on his shirt again. He tries to lose Nora on his way through the party and towards the door, but she sticks to him like glue. “You can stay here.ˮ
“No can do, if youʼre doing something incredibly stupid – chances are at 89% –
I am going to make sure itʼs not dangerous enough to kill you.ˮ
So they take their bicycles and pedal towards downtown, where Alex remembers seeing a 24/7 tattoo parlour with walk-in appointments. And sure enough, they can do his tattoo right away. The artist chooses a nice cover design and matches the ink to the colour of his soul mark with no questions at all. Really, though, the 24/7 tattoo shop probably isnʼt a place where any questions are asked. Once heʼs on the chair, Nora offers her hand for him to squeeze while the artist gets to work. It takes only 30 minutes until the artist sets down his tools with a frown. “Iʼm sorry, man, but your soulmark is resisting being changed into anything else.ˮ
“What do you mean resisting?ˮ Nora asks, speaking the words that Alex has no brain space to ask. This canʼt be happening.
“I think itʼs better if you see for yourself,ˮ the artist says and motions towards the mirror.
To Alex absolute horror the simple line design on his arm has now become a more-or-less photorealistic picture of the fox, the castle and the flag. He was so fucked.
2 Black Magic
It's a spell that can't be broken
It'll keep you up all night
Alex has been trying to bury himself and his woes in as much work as possible. University, politics, whatever will up his workload enough to keep himself from thinking about the stupid soulmark will do.
Two weeks into his unhealthy workaholic spree, June wakes him up at his desk with a cup of coffee. She lets him work out the kinks in his neck and drink half of his coffee before she asks what sheʼs come here to ask. “Youʼve been avoiding me and buried yourself in work. Why donʼt you tell me whatʼs going on?ˮ
“And what if I donʼt?ˮ Alex grumbles, trying to keep his arm from touching the stupid soulmark and revealing his hand. Itʼs been emitting an insistent warmth ever since the tattoo incident.
“Iʼll just hound you until you tell me,ˮ she tells him with an elegant shrug. “But we both know that I can be just as stubborn as you are. I might even be able to help, who knows?ˮ
Which is tempting. June might know a thing or two about having a soulmate who happens to be a fixture in your life one way or another. The three of them had been inseparable for a few years already when Juneʼs and Noraʼs soul marks confirmed they were each other’s. Alex knows for a fact that June researched soul marks obsessively for a month before she turned 21.
“I got my soulmark.ˮ
“I assumed as much. Who is it.ˮ
“Henry.ˮ
Juneʼs eyes widen, before her lip twitches into a smile. “Oh, thatʼs lovely.ˮ
“No, it isnʼt.ˮ It bursts out of Alex. “Henry is my nemesis. He cannot be my soulmate!ˮ
“Brother dearest, you do realise that the only person who thinks that Henry is your nemesis is you, right?ˮ
That canʼt be right. “No, I think Henry feels the same way.ˮ
“If you say so.ˮ June sounds dubious at best, which makes Alex glare at her over his coffee cup even harder.
“I donʼt care what you think, I just need your help getting rid of it.ˮ
“Thereʼs no way to get rid of a soulmark Alex. Itʼs literally fate. You canʼt get away from fate.ˮ
“Ha, but one can change his fate, canʼt he?ˮ
June ponders the question for a few seconds and then nods reluctantly. “That might be possible.ˮ
“I know you looked into soulmarks when you spiralled before your birthday. Did you find anything on changing it?ˮ Alex asks desperately.
“No, the scholars unanimously agreed that a soulmark is a permanent sign of fate and so on. There was no discussion about changing it. But—“ She taps her lips with a finger, humming thoughtfully.
“But what, June? The suspense is killing me.ˮ
“This might be dubious at best and dangerous at worst, mind you.ˮ
“I am willing to go on three dangerous quests if it means I do not have to spend my life with Henry,ˮ Alex declared dramatically.
June looks really taken aback by this. “I didnʼt know you hated Henry this much.ˮ
“Just tell me, June, please, I beg you,ˮ Alex beseeches her.
She holds up her hands in surrender. “Okay, thereʼs this witch I follow on Instagram, and she just introduced a new potion to her collection. It is about reversing one’s fate in love or something like that. Maybe that could help?ˮ
“I need a name, an address and a way to communicate with her. Now.ˮ
June insists on driving him to the little cottage in the woods this Instagram witch inhabits. Itʼs not even that far from the city. Still, it feels like a whole other world. The path to the house is framed by blooming flowers and herbs. Thereʼs birds hopping along the stones and squirrels vanishing into the big trees surrounding it. Somehow it feels like Alex accidentally landed himself in a Disney movie.
An hour later, he feels decidedly less as if heʼs in a Disney movie as heʼs hurling his guts out into the little cabinʼs toilet. Whatever was in that potion must be the worst thing his body has ever encountered. And it was encountering large amounts of dubious fast food on a regular basis.
Honestly, he would take the nausea if it would have helped against the soul mark at least. But 30 minutes into the whole process, the witch wouldnʼt stop apologising for this potion apparently not working on soulmarks.
Much later, he takes a look at his wrung-out self in the mirror of his bedroom. Yep, still there. And if his eyes arenʼt deceiving him, the gold glows just a little brighter on his skin. Fan-fucking-tastic.
3 Lengths That I Will Go To
And you are not me
The lengths that I will go to
“Maybe you should just stop fighting this, Alex? You were vomiting for three days. That was pretty close to lethal poison,“ June chances as she watches Alex assemble something that looks frighteningly close to a murder board.
“Chances of that happening are literally zero,“ Nora snarks from the background, just before she shoves a whole hand of chips into her mouth.
“Fucking right, I ainʼt. I am not giving up. And by the way, you should unfollow that witch. Her portions are majorly dangerous.“ He waves his phone around pointedly while putting another post it on the wall.
Nora throws the empty crisps bag across the room, where it bounces off the rim and rolls under Alex’s desk. No one notices because they are watching Alex connect Post-its with honest-to-god string. “What are you even doing?“ Nora asks and gets to her feet to get a better look.
“I am doing some research on different factions that are claiming that soulmarks can be gotten rid of,“ Alex says, putting another string in place.
“Ookay,“ Nora says. Then she taps one of the Post-its. “Why is there today’s date on this?“
“Because I have an interview with ‘The Temple of the Enlightened’ in about ten minutes.“
“’The temple of the Enlightened’?“ The horror in her voice is abundantly clear. “You canʼt be serious. Those guys are total nutjobs.“
“What they are is a group of people over 21 that do not have soulmate marks.“
“Well, they canʼt prove that, and thereʼs like only 2 to 3 percent of people worldwide who do not have them,“ Nora points out.
“They sent me proof,“ he points out. “I learned from my mistakes.“
“What kind of proof?“ June asks worriedly.
“Photographic proof that the leaders do not have soulmarks.“
Nora snorts inelegantly. “All that proves is that they are good with photoshop, like all scammers.“
“Okay, I need you to leave now. Thanks for coming over. Bye!“ Alex says as he sits down at his desk and opens his laptop.
Nora and June look at each other and say, “We‘re not leaving.“
Alex whirls around so fast that his desk chair keeps spinning around. “I need you to go.“
“And we need to stay to make sure you donʼt actually manage to kill yourself on the third attempt to avoid the unavoidable,“ Nora clarifies, while June nods vigorously.
“Ugh, fine. But make sure youʼre off camera.“
Nora high-fives June and then roots around her backpack until she finds a squished package of popcorn.
Alex eyes her warily. “Why the fuck do you have popcorn in your handbag?ˮ
“I just knew with you in my life, there would be an occasion where itʼs needed sooner rather than later. Like an 87% chance for within six months, actually.ˮ
Alex glowers at her and demonstratively puts his AirPods in. “You are not here,ˮ he hisses at them before resolutely turning towards the screen.
The call starts out well but then incredulity creeps into Alexʼs voice. “So I would have to fast for 30 days to show the Alien race that I am worthy of their attention?ˮ
The reply is a literal pile of bullshit bingo words tacked one after the other. Honestly, Alex isnʼt even sure which part of the sentence is the supposed alien race’s name.
“Sorry, can you repeat that again for someone who doesnʼt actually know what youʼre talking about?ˮ he asks. It comes only slightly sarcastic. Or maybe not, judging by the not-too-subtle twin snorts from behind him.
He tries to focus back on the explanation, which is still kind of hard to understand. One thing does stand out this time, though. “Wait a second, so in order to get out of my soulmate bond here on earth, I need to promise myself to an alien?ˮ Well, if this isnʼt a hell-to-the-no situation, Alex doesnʼt know what is.
This time, the snorts go all the way into frantically coughing behind him. Honestly, if this wasnʼt his life right now, Alex surely could see the hilarity in this. The question is now how to end this call politely without ending up on TMZ.
He tries the polite route first. “Thank you for explaining the whole process to me, I really appreciate this. I unfortunately—“ He doesnʼt even get all the way to telling the guy that he has to go now. Of course they want a donation for their time.
“Just email me the details. I unfortunately—“ Again, he is interrupted. A review for their onboarding call. Alex wants to be anything but onboarded with these guys, for sure. Evasion it is, again. “Oh, people still do Yelp reviews?ˮ
Thereʼs a long and winded reply, and Alex canʼt help but glance at the clock.
“Hey, thanks again for the call, I unfortunately—“ And again, heʼs interrupted.
Before he can say any of the TMZ-worthy things in his head, thereʼs a gentle hand on his shoulder, startling both him and the guy on the screen. He takes an AirPod out and asks “what?ˮ
“Sorry, little brother, but we really need you for the planning meeting now.ˮ She looks really apologetic first at him and then at the screen. But when she turns away, she winks at him.
He puts the AirPod back in and says with finality, “Thanks for the meeting. Gotta go.ˮ And he hangs up before alien-lover guy can want anything more from him.
For a few seconds the room is dead silent, as Alex processes the kind of call he just had.
“I am not going to call an alien sister, just so you know,ˮ June finally says, hand squeezing his shoulder.
“That would surely alienate some of the more conservative aunts and uncles,ˮ Nora deadpans.
Alex slaps a hand over his face and groans. “That would alienate me as well.ˮ
And suddenly all three of them are laughing. Not some gentle laughter. Big, fat, gasping-for-breath kind of laughs that have you holding your sides from the sheer power.
4 Kinda wish that you could hate me
Kinda wish that you could hate me so that I could get some closure
The moment Alex has been dreading ever since he turned 21 has finally come.
There he is, his nemesis. Henry George Edward James Fox-Mountchristen-Windsor. Looking like a real-life Prince Charming in his white suit, standing next to the dessert table. Well, a gloomy Prince Charming. His face looks like heʼs having the worst of days, and at his brother’s soulbond ceremony at that. Like his puppy died or something.
Good! Maybe this will make it easier for Alex to convince him to go along with his plan. Because three days ago he finally had a breakthrough in the library. In an old tome in the farthest recesses of the last corner, he found the jackpot. A ritual to dissolve a soulbond if both sides agree and perform it together.
So Alex goes over to his wannabe soulmate to ask him to break their soulbond in a classic ACD kind of way. Starting off strong, with a nice bit of critique. “You act like youʼre too important to be anywhere, ever. Doesnʼt that get exhausting?ˮ
“Iʼm … a bit more complicated than that,ˮ Henry attempts.
“Iʼm just saying,ˮ Alex says, resting an overly friendly elbow on Henryʼs shoulder, which isnʼt as easy as heʼd like it to be since Henry has about four infuriating inches of height on him. And Henry shakes him off immediately. Looking even more upset than before. “You could try to act like youʼre having fun. Occasionally.ˮ
Henry laughs ruefully and tries to put some distance between them. “I would certainly have more fun if I wasnʼt here right now.ˮ He turns to go.
That gets a rise out of Alex, who downs his champagne in one go and steps around Henry so they are facing each other once again. “Am I offending you? Sorry Iʼm not obsessed with you like everyone else. I know that must be confusing for you.ˮ
“Do you know what, this whole soulmate thing would be a lot easier if you werenʼt so contrary,ˮ Henry says in a fit of blatant honesty that Alex wasnʼt expecting.
It stops him dead in his tracks. “How do you know?ˮ
Henry gives a slightly hysterical little laugh. “Please, Alex, I am a year older than you, how could I not.ˮ
Alex mentally faceplams. How did he not notice that Henry must have known for a while? Since back when his soulmate mark came in. But— “But you never said anything.ˮ
“I avoided you. As is custom if you know your soulmate isnʼt yet of age. I am nothing if not a gentleman.ˮ
Alex snorts derisively. “You could have told me, and we could have gotten a headstart on this whole situation. A year’s worth of research would have avoided the trial-and-error process Iʼve been going through. Some trials were really fucking bad errors.ˮ
Henry looks thoroughly confused. “What trials?ˮ
“Getting rid of the soulbond of course. I am your mortal enemy, after all,ˮ Alex answers cheerfully.
Now Henry looks truly perplexed. “My enemy? Whatever gives you that idea?ˮ
“You havenʼt talked to me since Rio,ˮ Alex points out.
“Of course I didnʼt,ˮ Henry agrees. “I turned twenty-one shortly after, and I couldnʼt risk spoiling the reveal for you. Even I canʼt be that exhaustingly civil in the presence of my soulmate.ˮ
Alex waves him off. “It doesnʼt matter. I found a way to dissolve it.ˮ
“Dissolve it?ˮ Henry asks, voice getting a little high at the end. If Alex didnʼt know any better, heʼd think that Henry was panicking a little.
“Yes, thereʼs a ritual we can perform together. So you can be free to marry whoever you want, and I am free to marry whoever I want.ˮ
“No! Absolutely not!ˮ Henry replies decisively, and turns to rush away.
Alex grips his shoulder. And then Henry turns, suddenly, and almost does push Alex off him this time, and for a brief spark of a moment, Alex is impressed at the glint in his eyes, the abrupt burst of an actual personality.
The next thing he knows, heʼs tripping over his own foot and stumbling backward into the table nearest him.
He notices too late that the table is, to his horror, the one bearing the massive cake in honour of Prince Philip Mountchristen’s Soulbond ceremony, and he grabs for Henryʼs arm to catch himself, but all it does is throw both of them off-balance and send them crashing together into the cake stand.
He watches, as if in slow motion, as the cake leans, teeters, shudders, and finally tips. Thereʼs absolutely nothing he can do to stop it.
It comes crashing down onto the floor in an avalanche of white buttercream, some kind of sugary $75,000 nightmare.
The room goes heartstoppingly silent as momentum carries him and Henry through the fall and down, down onto the wreckage of the cake on the ornate carpet, Henryʼs sleeve still clutched in Alexʼs fist.
For a second, all he can think as he stares up at the ceiling while covered in frosting and champagne is that at least they will never have to see each other again once he gets Henry to agree to the ceremony. Beside him, he hears Henry mutter slowly, “Oh my fucking Christ.ˮ
And heʼs not wrong. This might be Alex biggest trial and error yet.
5 Little bit of loneliness, a little bit of disregard
I am a little bit of loneliness, a little bit of disregard
Handful of complaints
With a resounding smack, Zahra slaps a stack of magazines down on the West Wing Briefing Room table. “This is just what I saw on the way here this morning,ˮ she says. “I donʼt think I need to remind you I live two blocks away.ˮ Alex stares down at the headlines in front of him.
THE $75,000 STUMBLE
BATTLE ROYAL: Prince Henry and FSOTUS Come to Blows at Royal Soulbonding Ceremony
CAKEGATE: Alex Claremont-Diaz Sparks Second English-American War
Each one is accompanied by a photo of himself and Henry flat on their backs in a pile of cake, Henryʼs ridiculous suit all askew and covered in smashed buttercream flowers, his wrist pinned in Alexʼs hand, a thin slice of red across Henryʼs cheek.
“Are you sure we shouldnʼt be in the Situation Room for this meeting?ˮ Alex attempts. Neither Zahra nor his mother, sitting across the table, seem to find it funny. The President gives him a withering look over the top of her reading glasses, and he clamps his mouth shut. Itʼs not exactly that heʼs afraid of Zahra, his momʼs Deputy Chief of Staff and right-hand woman. She has a spiky exterior, but Alex swears thereʼs something soft in there somewhere. Heʼs more afraid of what his mother might do.
Heʼs not sure which option spells a worse fate. “‘Sources inside the royal reception report the two were seen arguing minutes before the … caketastrophe,ʼˮ Ellen reads out loud with utter disdain from her own copy of The Sun.
Alex doesnʼt even try to guess how she got her hands on todayʼs edition of a British tabloid. President Mom works in mysterious ways. “‘But Royal Family insiders claim the First Sonʼs feud with Prince Henry has raged for years. A source tells The Sun that Prince Henry and the First Son have been at odds ever since their first meeting at the Rio Olympics, and the animosity has only grown—these days, they canʼt even be in the same room with each other. It seems it was only a matter of time before Alex took the American approach: a violent altercation.ʼˮ
“I really donʼt think you can call tripping over a table a ‘violentʼ—ˮ
“Alexander,ˮ Ellen says, her tone eerily calm. “Shut up.ˮ
He does.
“‘One canʼt help but wonder,ʼˮ Ellen reads on, “‘if the bitterness between these two powerful sons has contributed to what many have called an icy and distant relationship between President Ellen Claremontʼs administration and the Monarchy in recent years.ʼˮ
Alex opens his mouth and closes it a couple of times. “He started it,ˮ he says finally. “I barely touched him—heʼs the one who pushed me, and I only grabbed him to try and catch my balance, and—ˮ
“Sugar, I cannot express to you how much the press does not give a fuck about who started what,ˮ Ellen says. “As your mother, I can appreciate that maybe this isnʼt your fault, but as the President, all I want is to have the CIA fake your death and ride the dead-kid sympathy into a second term.ˮ
Alex clenches his jaw, but uncharacteristically says nothing.
“I donʼt have time to deal with this right now, so hereʼs what weʼre gonna do,ˮ Ellen says, pulling a folder out of her padfolio. Itʼs filled with some official-looking documents punctuated with different colors of sticky tabs, and the first one says: AGREEMENT OF TERMS.
“Um,ˮ Alex says.
“You,ˮ she says, “are going to make nice with Henry. Youʼre going to meet at a charity Polo he will be playing at in the US next weekend.ˮ
Alex blinks. “Is it too late to take the faking-my-death option?ˮ
“Zahra can brief you on the rest,ˮ Ellen goes on, ignoring him. And with that, sheʼs gone. Leaving him with a thoroughly pissed off Zahra.
“All right, hereʼs the deal,ˮ she says. “I was up all night conferencing with a bunch of uptight royal handlers and PR pricks and the Princeʼs fucking Equerry to make this happen, so you are going to follow this plan to the letter and not fuck it up, got it?ˮ
Alex privately thinks this whole thing is completely ridiculous, but he nods.
Zahra looks deeply unconvinced but presses on. “First, the White House and the monarchy are going to release a joint statement saying what happened at the Royal Wedding was a complete accident and a misunderstanding—ˮ
“Which it was.ˮ
“—and that, despite rarely having time to see each other, you and Prince Henry have been close personal friends for the past several years.ˮ
“Weʼre what?ˮ
“Look,ˮ Zahra says, taking a sip from her massive stainless-steel thermos of coffee.
“Both sides need to come out of this looking good, and the only way to do that is to make it look like your little slap-fight at the wedding was some homoerotic frat bro mishap, okay? So, you can hate the heir to the throne all you want, write mean poems about him in your diary, but the minute you see a camera, you act like the sun shines out of his dick, and you make it convincing.ˮ
Which is how he ends up in his J. Crew best on a Saturday at the Greenwich Polo Club, wondering what the hell heʼs gotten himself into. The woman in front of him is wearing a hat with an entire taxidermised pigeon on it. High school lacrosse did not prepare him for this kind of sporting event.
Henry on horseback is nothing new. Alex hate-watches his Instagram after all. But Henry in full polo gear—the helmet, the polo sleeves capped right at the bulge of his biceps, the snug white pants tucked into tall leather boots, the intricately buckled leather knee padding, the leather gloves—is new. It makes Alex almost reconsider his stance on the whole soulmate thing. Almost.
It certainly makes him sweat. Or maybe thatʼs just the damn heavy suit that he decided to wear so no one has a chance to get a look at his soulmark. Heʼs seen the speculation in the press. Heʼs sure thereʼs a nice tidy sum on a picture of him with it. But no one can know.
So he‘s sweating his ass off in July in Connecticut. Worst of all, Henry is good. Alex doesnʼt pretend to care about the rules of the game, but his primary turn-on has always been competence.
He wants—God, after all this time ignoring it, he wants it again, now, right now. He tried not to, but fucking hell, he’s only human. And he hasnʼt gotten laid since… well, since forever. The NDAs are a major turn-off.
The match has been going on for a circle-of-hell amount of time, and Alex feels like heʼll pass out. He feels a wave of vertigo passing over him. Heʼs gotta get out of the sun. He tries to stand and swoons.
“I donʼt like that look,ˮ Amy says when they reach the bottom of the stands, peering into his eyes. “You look … sweaty.ˮ
“I am sweaty. Itʼs hot as balls,“ Alex grumbles as he takes another step. Another wave of vertigo makes him sway on his feet. Amy draws closer, saying his name under her breath. Alex looks up. The last thing he sees before he faints is Henry racing across the field towards them on his horse. He thinks heʼs calling his name. But everything goes dark.
+1 Invisible String
And isn't it just so pretty to think
All along there was some
Invisible string
Tying you to me?
Alex blinks his eyes open with a groan only to find at first everything is blurry and wrapped in shadow. He blinks again, only to close his eyes, because he thinks he might still be fucking dreaming. He blinks a third time. Nope. There he is, his nemesis, Henry George Edward James Fox-Mountchristen-Windsor, sitting beside his hospital bed, looking at the same time rumbled and as if he just rolled out of a fashion shoot, light-blue shirt sleeves rolled up to his elbows, hair tousled artfully.
Heʼs at the same time surprised and totally unsurprised by this fact. If Alex knows one thing about him, then that this Prince of England has a decidedly stubborn streak. Or patient, is maybe the better word. Like waiting a year for your soulmate to get his mark without ever putting pressure on him; it’s quite remarkable restraint.
He must have hit his head pretty hard when he fainted if he‘s thinking about Henry like this. Urgh, he fainted. Zahra will kill him as soon as she realises heʼs awake. Alex tries to reach for his phone again and groans. His head feels like Henry hit him with his Polo stick.
Speaking of Henry, this is of course the moment his infuriatingly pretty eyelashes start to flutter.
Alex could pretend to be asleep, but— “You‘re awake.“
Busted. “Where is my family?“ Alex asks to distract them both from the fact that he‘s been staring at Henry for an indefinite amount of time.
“I had to threaten to sic the full power of the Crown on them to make them go to bed.“
“Zahra threatened to drag them herself, didnʼt she?“
A small smile makes Henry‘s lips tick up just the tiniest bit. “That is also correct.“
“And why are you still here?“
Alex can see Henry having a short, internal debate before he answers flippantly. “The one good thing about being a Prince of England: people canʼt make me do anything if I really donʼt want to.“
Silence falls heavily between them. Until Henry seems to realise they are still at the hospital.
He springs up and asks, “Do you need something. Water, maybe?”
The moment Henry says water, Alex realises he‘s parched. But he‘s also a full grown man so… “I can get myself some—"
They both reach for the water at the same time. And the moment their hands touch, thereʼs that much of a spark that Alex drops the glass he just grasped for.
And still, they only look at each other as the water spreads across the nightstand.
Henry clears his throat. “I am going to get a nurse so they can clean this up and check your vitals.“
All Alex can do is nod dumbly.
As soon as Henry is out of the room, Alex starts making a list of all the things he hates about Henry in his head. To restore equilibrium.
- The way his eyes crinkle when he smiles
- The stupid way he says Alex name, like it matters or something
- The absolutely mouthwatering way he smells
Wait. What?
Alex mentally circles a few steps back and takes a long, hard look at his list.
Could it be? No, surely not. How dumb would he have to be to mistake the feeling of hate for attraction? It really couldnʼt be anything like that right?
While the nurse cleans the water and asks him questions about his health, Alex can‘t help but distractedly stare at Henry. There‘s just so much to be distracted by. His blue eyes, checking him over concernedly, looking for any signs of distress. Or the way his hands flex, like he wants to reach for Alex and comfort him. And the way Alex wants him too.
The nurse leaves to look for a doctor and silence falls between them.
“Alex—" Henry starts finally, just above a whisper. “If you still want me to be part of that ceremony, I will—"
“No,“ Alex blurts out immediately.
“But you hurt yourself trying to hide the mark, right?“ Henry asks, concern etched deeply into his delicate features.
“Yeah, but I was an idiot.“ And he was. Such an idiot.
There‘s tentative hope on Henry‘s face now. “What are you saying exactly?“
“That I was an idiot to not see that we are a good match. Maybe a great one, even.“
“But you thought I was your nemesis a few days ago?“ Henry asks, as he steps closer to Alex. His hand hovers over Alex’s, until Alex closes the gap. Yep, definitely electricity coursing between them. Definitely the bond humming in satisfaction.
“I saw what I wanted to see. Iʼm an idiot. Brains are hard. I don‘t like to be told what to do. Pick one or each of them.“
“But—" Henry tries again.
But Alex draws him closer by their joined hands and looks up at him through his lashes. “Henry, just shut up and fucking kiss me already.“
And Henry does. Oh, how he does. The world fuzzes out into static, and Alex’s brain is swimming hard to keep up. Well, (un)surprisingly, he really doesn‘t mind being kissed by Henry. Like, at all.
He tests leaning into the kiss and is rewarded by Henry‘s mouth sliding and opening against his, which is—wow. It doesn‘t feel like anyone he‘s ever kissed in his life. It feels as steady and as huge as the world around them, as encompassing of every part of him, as likely to knock the wind out of his lungs. One of Henry‘s hands pushes into his hair and grabs it at the roots at the back of the head, and he hears— a gasp from the doorway, which has them spring apart like guilty teenagers.
Alex head swivels towards the door so fast, his neck cracks a little. It‘s surprisingly satisfying to see Zahra shocked like this. She recovers incredibly fast though and looks between them calculatingly. Alex can see the reality of the situation dawning on her. “I guess I am fucking planning a soulbonding ceremony soon?“
Alex looks at Henry, who‘s already looking at him, suddenly anxious again. He squares his shoulders and turns back to Zahra. “Damn fucking right.“
He holds out his hand to Henry without looking. When his fingers slide between Henry‘s, something in him loosens. This is how home feels like.