#thread: fyrewalks02 (alex)

[immortalmuses]

          Pausing his investigation of the refrigerator's contents, Henry half turns to shoot Alex a rueful look. Hot Cheetos, he thinks incredulously. It's a miracle Americans have any stomach lining left at all...

          Fortunately, Alex follows up with a far more reasonable suggestion, and Hen's expression brightens. The prince is still working on establishing his (nonexistent) skills in the kitchen, so a recommendation for takeaway comes as no small relief. Not to mention that some time spent out of the Brownstone would do them both good.

          "That sounds brilliant, love." Henry says, swing the fridge closed and redirecting towards their living room, boiled kettle all but forgotten. "Let me just put on my shoes and grab my wallet."

          He makes quick work of getting ready, pulling on a cashmere jumper over his button down for good measure. The seasons are changing in New York and Hen finds himself looking forward to the holidays in a way he hasn't since... well. Since his father passed.

          Things just look brighter, with Alex at his side.

          And speaking of... Henry emerges from the hallway in search of his boyfriend, still tucking his wallet into his trouser pocket while simultaneously holding up Alex's well worn leather jacket. "...all set? I thought we might sit on the sidewalk patio, do some people watching." Nobody masters scathing commentary on random strangers quite like Alex.

By some miracle, a great bit of effort, really, that's betrayed by the way his fingers fiddle with his notes, Alex manages to keep himself quiet as Henry speaks. It's praise, pure love, that still manages to surprise him even if they're variations of words and phrases he's heard from Henry before; after all this time, he's not sure he'll ever come to expect it and he's not sure he's want to, fearful of what'll happen should he start to take this enormous love for granted.

"I -" Alex fights against ingrained habit, the urge to argue and push back. He still wants to tell Henry that his assessment is partially incorrect. He'll never be sure if the effort, days and days of obsessive study with breaks only for other pressing assignments and readings, is purely driven by his own motivation to excel or because he knows he'll be judged against his parent's successes and failures. Sometimes, he thinks it'd be simpler to fail and be left with the pieces of broken expectations.

"Thank you," he says quietly. The words sound small compared to the passion Henry spoke with but Alex is exhausted, surprisingly exhausted like it's only caught up with how now, and sometimes showing strength is knowing when to let things be. He hopes this is one of them.

"I ate half of bag of hot cheetos," Alex proclaims proudly, forcing all the anxiety and the things he hasn't said into his voice. He sits up straighter, pushing his notes back, as he aims a megawatt smile at Henry's back.

"Actually," he draws out the word as he takes in the sight of Henry snooping through the fridge. "I think I could with some fresh air. And those pork dumplings a few block over sound amazing right now..."

[immortalmuses]

          Henry's brow furrows as Alex voices these doubts about himself, some irrational instinct inside him rising up on his boyfriend's behalf, as if Hen can somehow protect Alex from his own imposter syndrome.

          "It doesn't make you sound like an asshole, love." The prince replies, leaning his elbows on the counter and watching Alex steadily. The other man's blush is endearing, but Hen would rather see Alex's typical brash confidence in place of this uncertainty. "...it makes you sound like you truly want what is best for your team. Which is as much an endorsement for your leadership as the undoubtedly insane number of hours you've put into learning every facet of this case."

           Behind Henry, the kettle clicks off, water inside it gently boiling. He ignores it for the moment to instead reach across the kitchen island and curve a warm palm over his boyfriend's wrist, "You are a brilliant person, Alex. Not just because you're smart, but also because you are kind. And you're going to make an amazing lawyer."

          It's not much, this reassurance. Alex's mind will give him no peace until he's attended the mock trial and dominated, just as the prince knows he will. But until that day, Hen can ply his boyfriend with coffee and digestives, can make sure Alex gets a decent night's sleep (or at least half of one), and can remind him... well.

          Just remind him that he's wonderful, he supposes.

          "--- Perhaps it's time for a break." Henry adds briskly, releasing Alex to turn towards the refrigerator and pull it open, "when did you last eat something that doesn't come in a single-serve wrapper?"

"Yeah, sure," he says drawing out the words as he thinks of the tight shirts, and perhaps oddly, the chin strap of the helmet Henry wears when riding. Alex has since given up on attempting to make any sense of his attraction, and the things that enhance said attraction, to Henry. The muscles, the competence - he understands that. Everything else is simply added to the already numerous mysteries of the universe.

One day, he'll learn more about horses. One day.

Despite enjoying the blush the rises to Henry's cheeks, it'd be so, so easy to tease and to taste if he gets up to cross the kitchen, Alex forces his attention back to his notes. Attempts to, at least.

Setting down his pen, Alex's gaze drifts back up to Henry. "Yeah," he answers, ducking his head with a bit of shyness. His turn to blush. Sometimes, rarely, it's terrifying to be known so well by someone else. There's no point in hiding or pretending that he hasn't been spiraling over this looming trial. It's fake in name only.

"I don't know how much I earned being lead attorney for my group." Sure, Alex knows he works hard. He knows he tends towards obsessiveness where studying is concerned, but he's also acutely aware of his position as the son of a president. "Which kind of makes me sound like an asshole."

[immortalmuses]

          At Alex's words, the color in Henry's cheeks goes from slight flush to bright red in an instant, like a flashpoint of embarrassment. The Prince stutters a huff of laughter, leaning away from the cupboard to give his boyfriend a meaningful, indulgent look. Rolling his eyes skyward, Henry bites his lower lip to suppress a smile. Of course..., he thinks. Of Course Alex would remember the tight white breeches above all else.

          "I'm well aware of your thoughts on my arse, you cretin." He replies, sounding amused and fond despite the barb. "Perhaps this time you could pay attention to the actual horsemanship at play?"

          Or, at the very least, Alex might find inspiration for... some other type of riding. As soon as the Prince thinks it, he wants to groan at himself. Clearly he's been influenced by all the terrible American innuendos Alex subjects him to on a daily basis. At least he didn't say it out loud...

          Finally locating a box of Yorkshire Gold among the shelves, Henry pulls down a pair of mismatched mugs and sets them on the counter. He flicks on the kettle to reheat the water, then turns to lean his back against the countertop, facing Alex. For a moment, he simply... admires... the other man.

           "You've been a bit in your head about this mock trial, haven't you?" Henry asks, his expression gentle. Alex doesn't know how to do anything by half-measures, the Prince knows well. It's one of the many things he loves about him.

@fyrewalks

"I've another polo match this Saturday--" Henry's comment is casual (too casual?), tossed over his shoulder without looking back to see Alex's reaction. He's is half-obscured by the kitchen's cupboard door, rummaging for Jaffa cakes and some manner of tea that the American won't immediately spit back into his mug. Alas, there is no accursed /Lipton's/ in this residence. "Perhaps you might like to actually learn something about the sport this time? Rather than just, ah..." And here Henry does dart a glance towards Alex, color warming his cheeks, ".../touring/ the tack room..?" // @immortalmuses

Alex thought he'd been smart, relocating from their bed to the kitchen table, bringing with him his laptop and scrawled notes for the mock trial he was preparing. Surely, sitting in view of Henry would have the same affect of sitting somewhere in a library or a coffeeshop - he'd feel judged into keeping himself on task instead of scrolling some random website, checking c-span, or listing out something mundane, like the best take-out spots closest to their apartment ranked first by timeliness and than flavor.

Of course, Alex hadn't accounted for the fact that his boyfriend is both very hot and very distracting.

"Uh," he says rather ineloquently, looking past his laptop to stare at Henry. Alex wants to be annoyed, but he isn't. Henry's teasing always benefits him. One way or another, so long as Alex is patient enough to let it play out.

"I don't think I was only interested in the tack room," Alex adds, more decisively, a smile taking over his lips. "Your ass in a saddle is quite the sight - I think I've learned that plenty, but I can always do with a reminder."