Free My Prince by Anna Martin

beautiful.
    “You’re not getting up?”
    “Not if I don’t have to. Do you need to rush off?”
    “No,” George said thoughtfully. He still hesitated before getting back into bed, though.
    Alex held the duvet back for him, then threw it over them both before snuggling into George’s side. With a gruff laugh, George lifted his arm and let Alex rest his head on George’s chest. This, Alex decided, would take no getting used to at all.
    “Have you got plans for today?” George asked. In the mornings his voice was rough, much lower than his normal speaking voice. With his head pressed to George’s chest, Alex could hear it rumble.
    “Not really. I need to go food shopping at some point.”
    “You do that yourself?”
    Alex laughed. “Yeah. Of course. I cook most nights, so I need to go shopping for myself, otherwise how would I know what was in the cupboards?”
    “Oh.”
    “I think we need to talk,” Alex said. He shuffled out of George’s embrace, regretting the need to do so, and lay on his side so they could look at each other.
    He half expected George to bolt; instead he copied the action, and Alex was suddenly looking into those intense gray eyes.
    “I like you,” Alex said without preamble.
    For a moment George fought the grin, then it spread slowly over his face. “I guess I like you too.”
    “But I think you have an issue with who I am.”
    “Issue is a strong word.”
    “You have… concerns?”
    George nodded. “Yeah.”
    “Do you want to talk about it?” Christ , it was like getting blood from a stone.
    The long pauses between words were something Alex would definitely need to learn to adapt to. George was a thinker, it seemed, and he picked his words carefully. That was almost antithetical to Alex—he had a habit of jumping in feet first, speaking before his brain had a chance to catch up. That got him into trouble from time to time.
    George did not have this problem.
    “We’re so different,” George said eventually. “Liking each other, or having crazy good sex, that doesn’t change who we are.”
    “I have no desire to change who you are.”
    “You don’t,” George said. “That doesn’t mean everyone will see it the same way.”
    “We’re nowhere near an ‘everyone’ stage yet, George.”
    “I’m not out. Not really. I have to think about whether or not I want to be.”
    Alex hadn’t considered that. He wrapped the duvet more securely around himself, crossing his arms over his chest.
    “Do you need… time?”
    George huffed a laugh. “I don’t know.”
    “Space?”
    “Maybe.”
    “Jesus.”
    “I’m sorry. It’s a lot for me to handle, you know? I just fucked royalty.”
    “Actually, you fucked royalty twice, and blew him once.”
    “True.”
    “I can’t change who I am, George,” Alex said softly. He wanted to reach out, to touch George in any way he’d let Alex touch him. Something held him back, though. “I can’t change my crazy family, I can’t change how or where I grew up or who I am now, any more than you can.”
    “I grew up on a council estate in Manchester, about two minutes from Moss Side, which is probably one of the most notorious gang hubs in the country outside London. My parents had too many kids, but we don’t live on state handouts. My dad owns his own business, and my mum works night shifts in Asda to make sure all the girls get everything they need. My sister got knocked up when she was fifteen.”
    George rolled onto his back and rubbed his hands over his face.
    “If I had come out when I was a teenager, I would have got my head kicked in every day. Every fucking day, Alex. There’s no veneer of middle class respectability about me or mine. We’re fucking scum.”
    “Hey,” Alex said, suddenly angry. “Wait a sec. You don’t get to say stuff like that.” He pulled George’s hands away from his face. “Is this what you’re worried about?”
    “Partly, yeah.”
    “Well, don’t. Okay, I went to private school, but