Casey McQuiston

"Right, because it's so hard to get a date when you're a prince."

Henry cuts his eyes back down to Alex. "You'd be surprised."

"How? You're not exactly lacking for options."

Henry keeps looking at him, holding his gaze for two seconds too long. "The options I'd like..." he says, dragging the words out. "They don't quite seem to be options at all."

Alex blinks. "What?"

"I'm saying that I have... people... who interest me," Henry says, turning his body toward Alex now, speaking with a fumbling pointedness, as if it means something. "But I shouldn't pursue them. At least not in my position."

Are they too drunk to communicate in English? He wonders distantly if Henry knows any Spanish.

"I don't know what the hell you're talking about," Alex says.

"You don't?"

"No."

"You really don't?"

"I really, really don't."

Henry's whole face grimaces in frustration, his eyes casting skyward like they're searching for help from an uncaring universe. "Christ, you are as thick as it gets," he says, and he grabs Alex's face in both hands and kisses him.