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“Have you ever been to Texas?” Is Alex’s opening line to this evening's phone call with Henry. He had just finished reading Henry’s latest email reply and instead of continuing with their good old fashioned letters, he gives in to the incessant itch under his skin to hear Henry’s gorgeous voice, especially now being fuelled by his loneliness. Alex had been stuck in the White House for the past week after being not so delicately fired from his first campaign job.
“Good evening to you, too. And no, I have not had the pleasure of visiting Texas.”
There it is — that silky, signature baritone serenading him through the phone, a pale comparison to its real life counterpart.
“Oh, you’re gonna love it. We’re gonna swim in the lake and drink Shiner and I’ll make you chilaquiles for breakfast. God, I can’t wait.” Alex exclaims through the phone, his excitement and pent up energy fueling his thoughts.
“Hm. It does sound like quite a good time.” Henry says, sounding contemplative.
“God, I’m actually going fucking insane in this goddamn house. Nora and June are gone and Mom’s busy running the fucking country. There’s only so many times I can play Texas Hold’em with Cash before he gets sick of me and tells me to beat it. I’ve rewatched Arrested Development like three times already. Oh! Actually, I did start reading Dorian Gray.” He blurts out, letting his sentences trip over each other. Now that his brain has something to focus on, he feels the tingling of the nerves in his jaws awaken, begging for stimulation after a week of pure nothingness.
“Yes? What do you think of it, so far?” He hears Henry perk up at the mention of the Wilde novel and Alex loves the thought that he’s pleasing Henry - doing something that will impress him.
“Man, Basil is down bad for that boy. To be fair, if I could paint, I’d only want to paint portraits of you.” Alex teases.
“I’m not sure Basil and Dorian’s relationship is one to compare to,” He can hear the laugh bubbling up in Henry's throat as he responds.
“Uh! No spoilers, thank you, sir.”
“Love, it was published in 1890.”
Alex’s heart skips a beat at the pet name — Love. Henry has been more relaxed in using it lately and Alex is a little scared to admit just how much he likes it.
“Uh, yeah, but I’m just a little baby who was not born in the 19th century, alright, Mr Probably A Vampire? You gotta give me time to catch up.”
He hears Henry scoff through the phone, a sort of half chortle, half snort that is indeed not very prince-like at all, but so incredibly Henry and it makes Alex’s insides turn to mush.
“Alright. Well, let me know your thoughts when you’ve finished.” Henry says, placidly.
“I sure will. Hey, I loved your last email, by the way. Thank you for trusting me, with all that, I mean.” Alex rushes through the last part of his sentence, the hint of an emotional confession that makes him want to put his metaphorical tail between his legs and run for the hills.
“Oh. Well, yes, it was all a bit of rubbish, but, thank you. Genuinely.” Henry sounds sort of choked up, but that's probably just the terrible signal in Kensington Palace, Alex tells himself.
“And the email before that? You know which paragraph I’m talking about. I can’t believe it's still like, 10 days before I get to see you again and that has literally kept me going, if you know what I mean.” Alex thinks back, remembering precisely where he was when he read exactly what Henry’s dreams consist of.
“Well. It’s embarrassingly true. I’m all-consumed, awake or asleep.” Henry confesses, sheepishly.
“Jesus, H, you can’t say shit like that. Where are you?” Alex feels that familiar heat that he associates with Henry’s gorgeous words curl deep in his belly. He runs a hand through his hair, leaning back on his pillows.
“In bed. It's quite late here.” Henry says plainly.
He’s sure Henry relates to the feeling of being trapped like a common garden bug in some small child’s makeshift insect enclosure. That sinking feeling of knowing that no matter how hard you try, you’re stuck, pinned down by the invisible weight of the world and your immovable place in it.
“The hours are all just blending together at the moment, it all just feels like one big, long, endless fucking day.” Alex huffs.
“Well. Maybe, I could… help pass the time?” Henry says, timidly.
“Yeah?” His response comes out all breathy and not at all the suave picture that Alex wants to paint. He can’t help it, he’s so fucking excited at the idea of having a small part of Henry after not having any part of him for so long that he finds it hard to keep his cool.
“How do you plan on doing that, sweetheart?” Alex recooperates and turns on the charm.
“I could tell you about one of my other dreams? The one I woke up from this morning was rather remarkable.” Henry says, a little more confident this time.
“Oh? Tell me, baby.” Alex breathes out, feeling his dick harden just at the mention of Henry sharing his thoughts about him.
He swears he hears Henry audibly shiver at the mention of the pet name and he lets out a shuddering breath. God, it sounds like he’s barely holding on and they haven’t even started yet.
They’ve done this before. The back and forth over the phone, trading masturbatory fantasies disguised as hushed whispers, praying one of their family members doesn’t knock on the door. Sometimes they FaceTime, if Henry is feeling particularly adventurous, but Alex will take whatever part of Henry he can get.
“You were here, at KP. In my room with me. You were wearing that gorgeous burgundy suit of yours that you wore on new years and you sat me down on my bed.”
Alex is pretty sure he’s going insane, hearing Henry’s hushed voice through his phone receiver, his cock hard as a fucking rock already just from the idea of being in Henry’s room, being just mere feet away from all that gorgeous porcelain skin, instead of thousands of miles.
“Keep going, baby. What happened next?”
Henry lets out a gasp and Alex can only imagine what those deft fingers are doing.
“You- you got down on your knees, right in front of me. Knelt next to my bed, as if you were praying. You took off my shoes, my trousers, my shirt, everything.”
He can picture it now, Dream Henry looking so incredibly ethereal, Alex staring up at those gorgeous eyes, wanting to give him everything.
“Yeah? Did I stay in my suit? Take you while I was still all dressed up?”
“Shh, you’re rushing ahead — no spoilers.” Henry teases.
“Alright, alright. What next?’ Alex breathes out, palming himself through his sweatpants. He’s been in his head for most of the time he’s spent cooped up inside that he’s barely touched himself the past week. He can feel himself getting close already, just from Henry’s voice in his ears and his own slight touches.
“Then, you began to make your way up my body, kissing every place you could find. My ankles, the crux of my knee, my thighs.”
“God, you know I love your thighs. You know, I ought to find the dude that created Polo just so I can send flowers to his grave, Santa Maria, thank you, God.” Alex lets his mouth run wild, his thoughts running a mile a minute, the flood gates now opened.
“Shh, we’re supposed to be getting you out of your head, yes? Just relax and listen, darling.” Henry’s voice has dropped an octave and the words come out as smooth as butter.
Shit. He’s suspected for a while that he has a thing for Henry bossing him around but hearing those words through the phone, he knows for certain now.
“Shit, fuck, okay. I’ll be good.” Alex puffs out.
He hears Henry suck in a sharp breath at the confirmation and releases it with a shudder.
Alex reaches into his pants, grasping his cock in his left hand and thrusting up into the dry friction, the head rubbing against the cotton of his sweatpants.
“Then, you took me in your mouth, down to the hilt, overexcited as you always are. God, it felt so real.” Alex can hear the wavering in Henry’s voice, like a tsunami of all-consuming feelings is being held back at the brink of washing over them both.
“God, yeah, Hen. Wish I was there with you.” Alex whines into the receiver, his cock already slick which aids his ministrations.
“Soon, love.” He can hear Henry’s voice hitch, his breathing quickening.
“I meant it when I said I can’t wait to see you in Texas. I bet the sun’ll look so good on your skin. Get you all sunburned and I’ll have to kiss everything better.” Alex lets the fantasy wash over behind his eyelids. Henry, beautiful and flushed, Alex looking up at him from his place between Henry’s legs — where he belongs, his brain supplies, and Alex can feel himself getting closer and closer.
“God, please.” Henry pleads, his voice keening through the speakers.
“What’re you doing?” Henry huffs out as if speaking is a monumental task for him right now — maybe it is, Alex thinks.
“What do you think? God, Hen, no matter how hard I try I can’t ever replicate what you do with your tongue.”
He can practically feel Henry’s blush through the phone. Can picture the beautiful crimson flush making its way down his body, colouring his chest, face and ears a gorgeous fuchsia.
“Well, years of practice,” Henry jokes, a slight chuckle catching in his throat that comes out as a broken whine.
“Yeah? Well, just for me, now.” Alex all but whispers.
Alex feels his chest burn with the raw confession. He hasn’t slept with anyone else in months and Henry has said the same to him, but voicing the exclusivity in such a brash way has Alex retreating before the words could even become stale in his mouth.
“God, yes. Just for you.” Henry sighs out. Before Alex can send himself spiralling into self-consciousness, Henry comes to sooth his ache.
Alex sighs, head falling back into the pillows. He feels Henry’s sincerity from an ocean’s distance between them and his stress melts away. His shoulders relax as his wrist moves quicker, his right hand coming up to tug on his shirt.
“Miss you so much, Hen.” Alex blurts out before he can stop himself, the relief of Henry’s reciprocation emboldening him.
“God, you have no idea. I ache, Alex,” Henry’s breath hitches, his words pitched and stilted. ‘All the time, just to feel you against me again.”
Alex moans out loud, First Family be damned, and feels that tight coil in his stomach reach its breaking point.
“Baby, I-” Alex stutters out, his hips slamming into his fist as he reaches for something that feels so close, now.
“I know, darling. Me too, just let go.” Henry keens out and his sentence breaks off with a high-pitched moan that’s reminiscent of the vowels contained in Alex’s name and the dam breaks.
Alex shivers his way through it, Henry’s voice echoing in his mind as he draws it out, desperately wanting to hold on to this feeling. Not long now, he tells himself, not long now until he’s in your arms again.
“You okay, baby?” Alex croaks, still feeling stiff and achy from the tribulations of this week, but the tension between his shoulders has lessened.
“Mhm,” Henry mumbles and there's some shuffling across the line.
“Perfectly well, love.” Henry’s voice is smooth as butter and Alex adores the slight octave change that he hears during their pillow talk, deep and husky and warm.
Alex cleans himself up gingerly whilst he hears Henry shuffling around on the other end of the line. He leans back against the headboard of his bed and suddenly, the weight of it all doesn’t seem quite as heavy, anymore. Henry’s lilting tone continues to soothe him as they drift into talking about nothing and everything, whispered promises and hushed confessions.
When he finally hangs up the phone, with a snoring Henry on the other side of the world, he can, for once, just breathe in and feel like everything isn’t crashing down right at this moment. He lays back and lets himself sleep, dreaming of a sun kissed, tipsy blonde laying out on the banks of Lake LBJ.