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Henry isn’t sure when the gin and tonics started tasting like “let’s make out on top of the grand piano”, but honestly, he isn’t complaining. Granted, it’s not his personal one back at the palace – how did Alex manage to even book a hotel room with a bloody grand piano in it? – but again, he doesn’t really care.
Not when both men got exceptionally tipsy and then Alex’s hands were hooked into his belt loop, leading him hips-first into the hotel room and fumbling to turn on the lights. Not when he could feel his drunken grin against his lips and taste the spice of the whiskey on Alex’s tongue, tangled with his own like lovers in sheets.
“Desperate, are we?” Henry smirks into the kiss, before sliding his hands up to grip Alex’s hair, just like the first time they kissed. Predictably, Alex takes this as a challenge and breaks the kiss.
“Oh, we’ll see who’s desperate once I’m through with you, Your Majesty.” Alex grabs his ass and aligns their hips just so, and then Henry’s being pressed into the wall as Alex grinds down on him, gasping for breath.
“It’s Your Royal Highness, actually,” Henry tries to say defiantly, but it comes out a little too strangled to be believable.
“Oh my god, just shut up and kiss me.” And he does. Henry is led to the bed by Alex and pushed roughly down, gasping into the young politician’s mouth as Alex undoes his pants and wraps a strong hand around his cock. Alex swallows the sound and continues making out with him hungrily; tongue sweeping through his mouth and stealing every last bit of breath he has as he works Henry with his strong hands.
A noise of protest escapes Henry’s lips as Alex pulls away and begins undoing his tie and taking off his shirt, so rushed he almost rips the buttons. “So, Henry.”
“I thought we were shutting up and continuing kissing?” Henry says, annoyed.
“Hush. Don’t be impatient.” Henry rolls his eyes at this. Who was the one leading him by his belt loop not ten minutes ago? “I told you I was going to make you desperate. I would’ve thought you’d learned that I don’t back down from my word by now.”
“Aren’t politicians meant to be deceptive in their eloquence?” Henry retorts, letting Alex capture his wrists and tie them gingerly to the head of the bed with his tie.
“I mean what I say, sweetheart,” Alex says with a lazy grin, and then he’s back on top of Henry, kissing him like it’s the last time. Carefully, with painstaking precision, he undoes each button, pressing wet kisses down the smooth planes of Henry’s chest.
When he reaches Henry’s nipples, he laves his tongue softly around them, grazing his teeth until Henry is bucking and swearing underneath Alex. Henry had never known himself to be such a sensitive person, but these experiences with Alex are bringing out new sides of himself he’s never seen before. For example, five years ago, he never would have imagined being tied to a bed and pinned down by an American, but here he is. Because it’s Alex.
It’s Alex pressing open-mouthed, biting kisses down his stomach. It’s Alex pulling Henry’s pants and boxers off in one fell swoop. It’s Alex nipping around his thighs, almost there but not quite, and Henry realises he’s teasing him, and maybe there’s a reason his arms are tied to the bedpost.
Alex licks everywhere but Henry’s shaft, and when he finally puts his mouth on him, Henry lets out a pitiful moan. He mourns the loss of Alex’s soft, curly hair under his fingers, and being able to guide his head, but it’s liberating in an ironic sort of way to be so vulnerable. He squirms underneath Alex, panting as younger man licks right along the underside of his cock, sucking and kissing and gripping Henry’s ass to take more of him down his throat. Henry feels himself building up, about to fall off a veritable edge, when suddenly Alex’s talented mouth is gone, and he finds himself reeling.
“A-Alex?” Henry whispers hoarsely, faint sounds of shuffling and digging next to him.
“Aha. Here it is.”
“What are you doing, love?”
“Just some good ol’ lube. We can’t leave your poor, perfect ass neglected, now, can we?” Alex turns up that all-American charm of his as he straightens up and grins down at Henry, clearly enjoying this. Henry is starting to get annoyed, and even more annoyingly turned on by this.
“Alex. Darling. Light of my life. Come back to bed and suck my cock, now. Please,” Henry adds, trying out his royal authority on Alex. He gets no reaction – lying there helplessly, unable to do anything else with his arms tied behind him, spread out on the bed. He must be a vision.
“Oh no, you’re not the one giving orders here, sweetheart,” Alex says in that stubborn way of his. Henry’s eyes rake over Alex’s body, taking it all in – chest, abs, powerful thighs and so on. He climbs back on top of Henry, straddling him. “I intend to make you beg. So buckle up, Your Royal Highness.” His lips ghost over the shell of Henry’s ear, making him shiver.
But then he’s making his way back down Henry’s body, so close to where Henry needs him.
“Alexander Gabriel Claremont-Diaz, you’re going to– oh!” Henry arches up and cuts off on a very unprincely noise as Alex’s tongue finds his way not to his cock this time but his ass, unexpected because they have never done that before, and now he’s not sure why. Alex’s tongue runs small circles around Henry’s rim before his mouth closes right over it and begins eating him out with zeal.
A hand finds it’s way up to Henry’s cock once more and strokes it roughly, and any thoughts he previously had vanish from his head, through the torrent of sensation running through his body. He’s never felt this before. Yes, he’s been with guys. But until very recently, he’d not been with Alex. It’s entirely different and Henry’s not sure he wants to find out why.
“Alex, Alex, Alex,” Henry chants his name brokenly as his eyes close, on the precipice of oblivion, about to come when all of a sudden, the only thing caressing Henry’s body is cold air and the ghost of Alex’s touch. “Bloody fucking wanker,” he swears, eyes shooting open. He wants to slap that smirk right off of Alex’s face and then kiss it better immediately.
Desperate, Alex mouths, pressing tender kisses down Henry’s thighs, breathing right next to Henry’s cock but not touching it, and he needs Alex to please touch him, and so he tells him, and all Henry gets is a soft kiss on the mouth and a hand trailing lazily up and down his belly. He’s hard to the point of pain, sweating through the sheets and drowning in the smell of Alex’s cologne, his touch, his scent and sight.
Finally, finally, Henry watches Alex as he opens the bottle of lube, squirting some into his hand, and next thing he knows Alex’s deft fingers are pushing into him – first one, then another, and Henry’s moaning with abandon as the First Son finds his prostate in a matter of seconds.
“Alex,” Henry moans, canting his hips up, “more. Please.”
But Alex only chuckles and keeps him on the edge, that clever mouth of his finding its way back to his cock, and his forearm comes down over Henry’s stomach so he’s unable to even move his hips. Henry is a mess of groans and writhing and ‘please, I need it’s on the bed, looking down to catch the incredible sight of Alex’s mouth and fingers working down below, his thick, lustrous eyelashes glancing up at Henry every so often. It’s safe to say there are no other thoughts left in Henry’s head now.
Soon Alex has picked up a rhythm, throat bobbing up and down Henry’s cock, laving at the head with his tongue, fingers pumping in and out of his ass steadily and Henry can only lie there and take it, as the tension builds low in his stomach until he feels like he’s about to burst. The only warning Alex gets is a broken moan, before Henry is coming down his throat and Alex is swallowing it all up, pressing yet more kisses along Henry’s stomach as he comes down from his high, boneless on the bed.
“So. How’s that for desperate?” Alex asks, and Henry only groans and shuts his eyes, unable to do much.
“Shut up, you bellend.” Alex laughs and mouths hungrily along Henry’s neck, watching the twitches of overstimulation as he runs his hands up and down the prince’s stomach.
“Oh, but Your Royal Highness,” he says, “we’re not even close to done yet.” And with that Alex is grabbing the bottle again and lubing up his own dick, climbing on top of Henry and kissing him sweetly this time.
Henry’s legs come up to wrap loosely around Alex’s waist, and he touches Henry’s wrists softly. “Are these okay? Is it sore?”
Henry smiles warmly, knowing that no matter what, Alex will always be there to take care of him. His sweet American boy. “Yes, they’re fine, love. Now get on with it.”
Alex grins mischievously and then lines his own cock up with Henry’s ass, grazing his nose softly where Henry’s neck meets his shoulder. His hands find their way to Henry’s waist, and then it’s Alex’s turn to moan as he sinks into Henry’s hole smoothly, thanks to the lube.
“Oh, baby,” he breathes into Henry’s ear, and Henry thinks it’s the single sexiest thing he’s ever heard (apart from reading “see attached bibliography, of course). Alex slides in easily, all the way, and every time Henry thinks he can’t feel fuller he’s proved wrong. Alex is everywhere – gripping his hips, kissing his throat, murmuring words of praise in his ear, settling deep inside him until Henry can’t think around the length inside of him.
Alex give a small thrust, testing the waters, and Henry lets out a small sound he’s going to be embarrassed about later. But it doesn’t matter, because then Alex is pulling out a little, adjusting and then thrusting back in again, doing it over and over until he finds that one spot that does it for Henry.
“Alex,” Henry gasps, throwing his head back since he’s unable to move his hands. Alex’s own make their way to Henry’s hair, pulling his head back up so Alex can kiss him deeply. Still, he doesn’t rush. Alex fucks him slow and deep, making out with him thoroughly until Henry’s head is spinning again. He’s long since become hard again, throbbing in time with his ass as Alex takes care of him.
“Baby,” Alex whispers back into his mouth, “you’re doing so well. So good.” And Henry goes boneless again in his arms, feeling another knot building up in his stomach with every thrust, every word of endearment that leaves Alex’s talented lips.
“Please,” Henry moans, tugging on the tie binding his wrists, “I need it harder. I need more.” But Alex only grips Henry’s hair and kisses down his throat, fucking him lazily as if they have all the time in the world.
“Shhhh, be patient, sweetheart. Just a little longer.”
Henry isn’t sure if he’s infuriated or desperate, but before he can gather his thoughts again, Alex is pushing up onto his hands to gain traction and thrusting hard into Henry. One of his hands find Henry’s cock between them and starts working him with rough pulls, and he can only moan lowly, Alex’s forehead pressed to his, as the tension in his body builds and then crests. He comes roughly with a cry, Alex whispering filthy things in his ear like how good he is for Alex, how tight he feels around him and how perfectly he comes.
He goes boneless as Alex finishes as well and comes inside him with a loud groan. Henry watches Alex with half-closed eyes, exhausted but the happiest he’s ever been, as the latter pulls out of him, unties him and cuddles up next to Henry, strong arms embracing him. For once, Henry isn’t thinking about his dad, or Philip, or Gran or the stupid bloody monarchy. He’s only thinking about Alex and how happy he is to be sharing this bed, this world with him right now.