a gift for accol on AO3!
this was meant to be posted on Jan 1 for the RWRB New Year's Gift Exchange!!! unfortunately, i've been so insanely busy this last month in my personal life. i just came back from an emergency out-of-town trip, but i made sure to keep writing when i had the time!
anyways! the prompt was a "red string of fate or soul marks" au, and i was surprised to realize i actually havent written many soulmate aus??? so i needed to change that.
happy new year!! lets go 2024!!!! (let's just ignore the fact it's an election year. god i wish ellen claremont were real)
—
The red string of fate isn't so much a string, but more of an illusion. Something that doesn't truly exist, but your eyes perceive it anyway; as if you're staring at a huge blue sky, or looking into a bright light for too long. Those strange shadows or colorful blobs that fill your vision.
With all that being said, you can still feel it. The string grows taut around your left ring finger, pulling you closer and closer until you're within reaching distance. Or maybe it's loose and relaxed, knowing that your soulmate is halfway across the world and there's nothing you can do to change it.
For as long as he can remember, Alex's has been like that: slack and never moving. It always pointed to the east, and the times it changed were never for long. He always assumed it'd break one day — just like his parents', just like June's. Sure, maybe he shouldn't be so annoyed by it — he's only eighteen, for God's sake — but it's been eighteen years of nothing, and he's getting kind of bored of it. Maybe if it broke, he could get a new soulmate, like how his mom has Leo and how June has Nora. Or maybe he just couldn't get one at all, because really? Soulmates are bullshit.
But even through all that, there is still somehow a sliver of hope somewhere tucked under layers of rib and muscle deep inside his heart.
Which is why, when he feels the string tighten for the first time in years, he jolts in surprise.
"Calm down, Alejandro," Nora elbows him in the side.
Alex rolls his eyes and glances down at his hand. Sure enough, the string is there, as always. It's hard to see clearly in the stadium's cool shadows, but the sun's soft beams make it glow pink. He feels a shiver run up his spine.
When Alex heard the Summer Olympics were being held in Rio, he was expecting it to be warmer — but then he remembered this is the South Hemisphere. It's not even that cold, he's just a born-and-raised Texan. And yet, here he is, shivering in 55° weather under the watchful gaze of...
He sighs. As much as he's loved following the campaign trail, it still feels a bit weird having the media's eyes on his family. But he's getting used to it, he thinks — he hopes. He revels in the attention, but now that he's at his first big event of his mom's not-yet-presidency, he realizes that he actually has no idea what he's doing.
There's another tug at his finger, and it somewhat annoys him. Out of everything that's happening today, soulmate drama was not on his list. He's lost all sense of direction and doesn't know where the string is headed, but he's certain it shouldn't be pulling.
He tries to ignore it. He looks straight ahead, stares at the blue sky above the algae-green pool, and waits for June to return with a tray of caipirinhas.
And then Nora gasps in his ear. She's staring at something across the aisle of seats. "Shit, I forgot the prince was coming here. What the fuck."
Alex begrudgingly turns his attention back to her. "Of England?"
"Damn! We're really famous now, eh? Dining it out with royalty," she shimmies her shoulders and wiggles her eyebrows. "June!" she exclaims and frantically waves her over. "C'mere, Alex needs liquid courage ASAP."
"Why, exactly?" June nonetheless passes Alex the drink with no hesitation.
"International relationships, of course," Nora tilts her head and grins. "Your mom told us to play nice with everyone."
Alex slowly smiles, immediately knowing where this is going, "And to show off how amazing we are. God, Nora, you're a genius."
June looks between the two. "I'm afraid to ask."
Nora giggles and whispers, "Prince Henry."
"Oh, shit."
"So I either become besties with him," Alex sips his drink. "Or I embarrass myself in front of royalty. Nora, gimme the odds."
"It's more likely you'll embarrass yourself, but I'm still rooting for you."
"I mean," June sighs. "It is kind of a good idea. I say go for it."
"And see if his sister is single," Nora laughs as June groans. "What? We both have another string. Might as well explore the options."
"I highly doubt a princess is—"
Nora clicks her tongue, "You'd be surprised," then she looks back to where Alex assumes Prince Henry is. "Alright, Alejandro. Let's see you practice those diplomacy skills," she pats him on the back and pushes him in the right direction.
He laughs and continues walking until he spots his destination — the tall man with blond hair, surrounded by various men and women alike. He grins and speeds up, slipping through the crowd.
It all happens very fast. Alex straightens his posture, ignores the strange tug at his left hand, and holds onto the caipirinha with his right. He nods politely at someone and then stands before the prince.
Prince Henry is a good few inches taller than Alex and smells strongly of fancy cologne. His blue eyes look down at Alex, almost startled or confused.
"Uh, hi. Alex Claremont-Diaz, my mom is running for US president." Alex realizes he's still holding his drink in his right hand and fumbles for a moment before resigning to holding out his left for a handshake.
And then.
Prince Henry looks at his hand and takes a sharp intake of breath. Alex purses his lips and looks down as well, checking to make sure there isn't any sort of unprincely dirt that would cause such a reaction.
The prince takes a step back. Alex stands there dumbly until he sees it:
Prince Henry fidgets both his hands, twisting a signet ring around. It's only half a second before he stops and puts his hands behind his back. He clears his throat and whispers to some sort of butler at his side, "...get out of here."
An unmistakable flash of red. Alex's finger pulls and pulls, and Prince Henry's face scrunches uncomfortably. Alex realizes his hand is still sticking out, and he quickly puts it back at his side, nearly frozen in shock.
The string is so tight with tension that Alex is sure it'll snap.
It doesn't.
"So very sorry, sir," the posh accent breaks through the still moment, and the butler gently pushes in front of Prince Henry, blocking him from view. "I'm afraid His Royal Highness has some personal matters to attend to. Have a good rest of your evening."
And, as if nothing ever happened, they're gone.
He walks back in a daze.
Nora bites her lip, "Embarrassed?"
He shakes his head and collapses into his seat. "No." Not yet. "Worse, I think."
June pats his shoulder and sits beside him, "It's okay, I'm sure you'll have another chance when Mom wins—"
"June."
She pauses. "What's wrong?"
Alex looks into his glass, which he's somehow managed to keep steady. "I think...I think Prince Henry is my soulmate."
Nora chokes. June stares. Alex gulps down the rest of his drink in one go.
—
The thing about the string is that it doesn't break. And honestly, that's what's confusing Alex the most. Because surely it must break at some point, right? Surely this is all some sort of mix-up, like, there's no way the universe actually gave him the fucking Prince of England as a soulmate, right? The very royal, very male Prince Henry, third in line to the throne? Because yeah, maybe Alex had a weird obsession with the guy when he was younger, and maybe he still kind of admires him, but honestly, that shouldn't mean anything. It shouldn't.
It doesn't break.
June was right, as she often is. He has many chances with the prince after Ellen Claremont is officially president. It's like the universe is taunting them.
Well, moreso taunting Alex because Henry is seemingly very good at ignoring his presence.
Their second meeting is at a celebratory dinner party after the inauguration. Alex hasn't told his parents about his soulmate revelation, so he decidedly does not choke on his own spit when his mom sits him down and tells him that a member of the English Royal Family will be in attendance.
And so, he fixes his posture, pops a breath mint, and tries not to scream when Henry walks right past him during the welcoming ceremony, not even bothering a polite nod.
That fucker.
Heat flashes through him. He watches Henry walk away and tries to ignore the tight red line stretching through the space. Alex swallows harshly, and June frowns. She bumps his shoulder, but he rolls his eyes. "Later," he whispers.
Later doesn't come. Instead, Alex runs to his brand-spanking-new room and frantically Googles:
is it possible to have a one-sided soulmate?
Probably not.
can soulmates be platonic?
Yes.
how do royal family soulmates work?
Unknown.
ajajweididoofaaaaaaaàssssdddddffcvvvvvvv'v??????)))))()))???
No results found.
Jesus fucking Christ. What has he gotten himself into?
—
At their third meeting, there's a breakthrough. Sort of.
They're in London for a charity event. Alex begged to stay home, but his mom wasn't having it. So here they are on a dreadfully sunny day, surrounded by PPOs and...royal guards. Of course.
There's Henry in his same old suit with his same old hair and stupid beautiful eyes. Really, Alex has way too many feelings about this guy whom he's met a total of two times. But honestly, he thinks it's justified.
He also thinks it's justified that as soon as they're left alone, without cameras or parents to scold him, Alex sidles up to Henry and starts talking his mouth off.
"So, Your Majesty," Alex crosses his arms and gazes across the River Thames.
Henry glances at him before turning away. Alex is sure he's going to ignore him again, but then he speaks: "Mr. Claremont-Diaz. Alex, isn't it?"
Alex purses his lips. What the fuck. "Yeah, Alex. Been a while."
"Yes, quite a few months," Henry sighs and sips a cup of water. It's a hotter-than-usual summer, and Alex is keenly aware that it's been almost a year since they first met.
Alex hums, "Right." He looks at Henry's cup, the red string distorting in the water reflection. How the hell can he be so casual about this?
Henry notices Alex's stare and hesitantly pulls his cup down. "Do you need something?"
Alex furrows his eyebrows.
"I'm sure you must be off working with your mother. There's no need to hang around me."
Alex scoffs, "Sorry, what?"
Henry sticks out his chin, like an arrogant bastard trying to look down upon a peasant. "I don't think I can be much of use to you."
What does that even—
Alex abruptly pulls his left hand behind his back and almost laughs at the way Henry stumbles to the side at the sudden force. He fingers at the string ever so slightly, just so Henry remembers it's there. After nearly a year of the two of them trying to ignore it, it's still, regretfully, there.
"You're kind of an asshole," Alex mutters, and Henry pulls himself back.
"I'm afraid I don't know what you mean."
"Dude, oh my God," every word that comes out of Henry's mouth is even more infuriating. "I'm like, this close to pushing you into the river."
"I beg your pardon?"
"Alex," a Texan accent yells into his ear.
"Mom, what—"
"I'm so sorry, Your Royal Highness," Ellen puts her hand on Alex's shoulder and grips it tightly, like she's scared he might jump Henry at a moment's notice. "My son here is...not usually so inappropriate. We'll let you get going now."
"Mom—"
"It's not a problem, Madam President. I understand," Henry eyes Alex carefully. "It was nice seeing you again. Thank you for coming."
Ellen keeps the smile on her face long enough for the prince to turn around, and then promptly glares at Alex. "The hell was that about?"
"...It's complicated."
He still hasn't told her.
—
Usually, when someone gets an invite to a royal wedding, they'd be ecstatic.
Instead, June and Nora are currently trying to stop a mental breakdown.
"Y'know," June says while soothingly rubbing Alex's back, "for someone who calls himself straight, you sure do have a lot of boy problems."
"I thought we agreed his sexuality is up to interpretation?" Nora looks up from her laptop.
"We never agreed on anything," Alex mutters from underneath his pillow. "Hey, do you think enemy soulmates exist?"
"Enemies to lovers—"
"Nora," June warns.
Alex groans, "Guys. Please." He feels weird talking about soulmate stuff with them, especially since those two are the perfect couple. They don't talk about the fact that his soulmate is a prince, or a guy, or an ass. They barely even acknowledge it. It's an unspoken agreement, and it's bound to be awkward whenever the topic arises. Like when June groans in exasperation and tells him he needs to tell Mom or Dad, it's been three fucking years, and he flips her off and screams into his pillow.
He's done with all of this shit.
The wedding ceremony is, by all means, beautiful. In a very white, rich, old-fashioned British sort of way. He sits uncomfortably in the pew and tells himself it's by complete accident that his gaze keeps drifting to where the rest of the Royal Family is seated. (It isn't. It never is. He's always stupidly striving for Henry's attention, and whenever he rarely gets it, he fucks it up by getting defensive and agitated. But it's justified, right? He thinks it is. He tells himself it is. In no world is completely ignoring your soulmate while being cold and standoffish okay. Henry needs the uncomfortable reminder that other people exist outside his gated little circle.)
When his eyes aren't on Henry, they're on his own hands. The shining red, so ironically out of place in Westminster Abbey. He's all the way in the back of the hall, next to nobility and their children who don't yet understand what it means to be noble. He doesn't think about the fact that the red strings are everywhere in this grand building — they're one of the entire reasons it was built all those centuries ago. The strings that connect the lords to ladies, dukes to duchesses, kings to queens. Albeit, who knows if the Royal Family is actually full of matches; everyone knows how the Queen forbade her daughter from marrying Arthur Fox, even though they were soulmates. Are Prince Philip and Lady Martha even connected? Lady Martha seems nice enough, sure, but Prince Philip is...well, a prince.
Alex really needs a drink.
He whines all the way to the reception. Nora whines back and tells him to shut up, and June watches them with reluctant affection.
"Please. We can just skip it. We can go do touristy London shit. I'll do all the photo ops you want."
"Alex, we're going to freaking Buckingham Palace. Get your head out of your ass. That is touristy shit times a thousand."
"Well, I'm not gonna like it."
"We know," June and Nora say in unison. Sometimes Alex hates how in sync those two are.
The trio ends up in some sort of hallway in the huge palace, standing incongruously next to a line of old white men and their trophy wives. Before they know it, the wedding processional comes through the doors one by one, greeting and thanking each of the guests. Alex braces himself.
Eventually, Henry stands there and looks Alex in the eye for the first time in...well. Alex can't remember. He's slowly realizing that every time they've met before, Henry's always making sure to never hold eye contact for too long, like doing so will manifest an unseemly soulmate demon. And yet here he is, in front of Alex, staring at him with curious eyes and a blank face, the traces of a fake smile fading away. Alex can't help but fake a smile in return.
And then Henry blinks, and he silently turns away to walk off with his sister.
June sways into his space and whispers into his ear: "You two are dumbasses."
Nora nods in silent agreement.
—
The dumbassery continues well into the reception. After one too many drinks, Alex slouches down at a table in the Buckingham Palace Ballroom and gapes at the royal attendant who has appeared next to June.
"His Royal Highness Prince Henry wonders if you would do him the honor of accompanying him for a dance."
Alex is about to make a scene.
June widens her eyes in panic and turns to Nora, who is stifling a giggle. It's not exactly public knowledge that the two are soulmates, but it's not entirely a secret either. In any case, Nora finds these types of situations hilarious.
Somehow, June agrees to it and mouths a hundred apologies to Alex. Alex rubs his eyes and manages not to groan out loud.
"He's absolutely fucking with me," Alex whispers to Nora.
"Maybe it's not all about you?"
"Um, hello? Are you serious right now?"
Nora grins and twirls her champagne glass, "Who knows what goes through the mind of that man."
"Honestly." Alex shakes his head, "I'm gonna try to talk to him after he stops wooing my sister."
She snorts, "Alright, good luck with that." She nods towards the photographer zooming in on June and Henry, "Bet you ten bucks that'll be trending on Twitter tomorrow."
"Fucking asshole."
He does try to talk to Henry later. Keyword: try. Instead, he stumbles over and nearly bumps into two tables, and Henry is as stiff and still as always.
"Mr. Claremont-Diaz," he greets, as if he still can't remember Alex's name. As if Alex hasn't been a pain in the ass since the first time they met.
"Henry," Alex responds, smirking at the lack of proper decorum. "Kind of a boring wedding, I have to admit."
"I suppose it's not everyone's cup of tea."
Oh man, this guy is British. "Yeah, well, I guess I'm not a fan of most of these royal traditions."
Henry quirks a brow and nods, and if Alex were more forgiving, he'd dare to say Henry seems like he agrees.
"In any case," Alex rolls his neck and sighs dramatically, "I hope you know you're not exactly my sister's type. She does have a soulmate, after all." You do too, he doesn't say, but Henry vehemently ignores the double meaning.
"A dance is a dance, simple as that."
"Mhm," Alex crosses his arms, and he's about to say something, but then he gestures too fast with his hand, and—
Henry's hand involuntarily tugs toward Alex's, his champagne sloshing directly onto Alex's suit. Alex gasps, "Dude!"
Henry stares at him, "Oh, Christ, erm—"
"Let me just—" Alex takes a step back, but apparently, his string has forgotten how to loosen up, and now Henry is once again falling forward into him.
"I'm s—"
"No, shit, I just need to—" he reaches for a napkin behind him, but of course he uses his left hand. Jesus fucking Christ. At this point, they are basically on top of each other, their hands stuck together like that one scene from Spider-Man. Henry grabs the napkin for him and tries to balance them both, but Alex's knuckles graze over something smooth and sticky. Fuck.
Alex panics and looks at his hand, smeared with white, glittery buttercream frosting. The £75,000 uncut cake is right next to him. His legs are wobbly, his head dizzy, and fuck, why is Henry so close? Get him away. He lifts his heavy arms, puts them on both of Henry's shoulders and pushes so hard that Alex knocks himself back into the table.
Somewhere in the back of his mind, he realizes how crazy the two of them must look. They are surely causing a ruckus at this point, and he knows this will be the talk of the country soon. Screw the June and Henry dance, this is far more interesting: two grown-ass men wrestling, covered in champagne and frosting, and nobody knows it's because of the damn godforsaken string of fate between them. Fuck.
But none of those anxious thoughts matter right now because the table underneath him is shaking, and Henry is on the ground trying to grasp onto anything to pull himself up. He blindly grabs at the tablecloth, and Alex is about to yell no, but it's too late. He's on the ground as well, next to Henry, and they both look up in horror as the intricately crafted cake toppers wobble, the layers shift, and then the whole thing collapses on top of them in a pile of sugar.
"Oh my fucking Christ," Henry mutters, the only voice throughout the entirely silent ballroom.
Honestly, out of all the horrible incidents that just happened in the last two minutes, the perfect pretty boy prince cursing is not the most outrageous thing.
—
i definitely wanna write a part 2 to this soon with them falling in love and all that jazz!!! i have so many ideas but agh my energy has been lacking. anywho, hope yall enjoyed <3 <3 <3
* 3516 words (January 7, 2024)