Status: In Progress

The Majesty of Choice


“This is the biggest fucking room I’ve ever been in,” Pete says. “Well apart from Giantville. This is the biggest fucking elf, human, or anything within that height range, room I’ve ever been in.”

“Do you think that’s real gold,” Patrick asks, pointing to golden patterns inlaid into the walls of the drawing room where they’ve been ushered into.

“Of course it fucking is, it’s the castle,” Gerard says, annoyed with the very idea that someone wasted all that gold by putting on the goddamn wall. That wall could feed Gerard’s entire town for a year.

“Does this guy look like me,” Pete says pointing to a portrait above a fireplace that has also been decorated with an obscene amount of gold. The portrait is of a former King, though which King, Gerard has no clue. He’s old, white haired, very much dead, and looks nothing at all like Pete. Pete messes up his face to have the same expression as the man in the portrait though, and Gerard can feel Patrick’s heart pounding through his chest. Love makes you oblivious to when people are idiots. Or possibly, love makes you fall even harder when people are being idiots.

“You’re ridiculous,” Gerard says. He grabs the letter he wrote and walks it over to the huge double doors that lead into this unbelievably huge drawing room. He opens one of the doors very sheepishly, because the door itself stands about twice his height, and the door knob looks to be made of some fine gem stone. Gerard wonders how much of the decadence is for show and how much of it is because royalty really are just pretentious enough to need a doorknob worth more than Gerard’s entire ancestry combined.

He peers out of the door into the entry hall that is definitely bigger than the drawing room, but since it’s a hall he doesn’t know if it’s technically a room, so Pete’s statement still stands. Gerard looks for the knight that had showed them into the room, only to see Alex standing guard right there. He gulps to himself, because he knows it’s ridiculous, but there is something very worrisome about someone standing guard over a room he’s in. It feels kind of like a prisoner situation, which is idiotic because obviously he was invited in here by the Prince, and he’s a guest. Still, someone is guarding the room he’s in. When you’re from a place where you’d never even seen a knight until about a month ago, it is suddenly very strange when they are protecting you.

“I, uh, I finished my, uh letter, for… you know,” Gerard says, and he hands it out to the knight who he wishes he knew better. With a grim, and stoic sort of expressionless, he holds his hands out to take the letter from Gerard, but there’s nothing remotely like hostility there, maybe just awkwardness. Gerard supposes it’s hard to adjust to how your supposed to treat the future King’s lover when said lover has a dick. He doubts they went over that in Knight school. “Thanks.” Gerard gives him an uncomfortable smile, and Alex’s eyes soften. He’s not so bad. Gerard just needs to get to know him better, that’s all.

He takes a deep breath as he closes the door, which doesn’t make a creaking sound at all, which is weird, because Gerard thought all doors creaked. He walks back into the room to see Pete still hasn’t started his letter and Patrick is on page nine or ten of his. They are two drastic opposites, Gerard notes quietly to himself.

“What do you think the food is like?” Pete says. “Oh my god, I bet it’s to die for.”

“Aren’t you going to write a letter, Pete?” Gerard asks, because he’s doing nothing but pointing out various things in the room and hypothesizing about various castle things. He supposes he could see how someone, namely Patrick, could be attracted to someone like Pete. He simply exists in the world that he lives in. He’s kind and has such a unique way of thinking. Now to be fair, he can see way more things that could make someone attracted to Patrick because Patrick is his best friend in the entire world. Patrick is wise, if there was any one word you would use to characterize him, it would be that. Patrick is kinder than a world as shitty as this could possibly create but somehow, he’s here.

“Um, to who?” Pete asks, and Gerard’s heart drops, because it hadn’t occurred to him. Pete’s family was taken away. He has no one to actually write to.

“Oh my god, I’m a jackass,” Gerard says. “I’m a totally awful person.”

Pete smiles at him. “It’s okay, Gerard. Simple mistake.” Gerard knows something like that would not simply roll off his back. He’s just in general a rather bitter person, and he thinks he has the right to be, but it doesn’t mean he’s not working on it.

The thing is, Pete’s not angry because he doesn’t think he has the right to be. He definitely did something wrong to Gerard, and even though it’s unclear why it pissed him off so much, that’s kind of Pete’s weight to bare. Neither of them is necessarily right on either point, but it is what it is. Gerard is trying to mend things while Pete is just trying to get Gerard to like him. Gerard honestly doesn’t dislike him, it’s just that Pete’s got an unnatural habit of ordering him around which pisses him off.

“I still feel like… I’ve been a dick to you, Pete. Haven’t I?”

“It’s… Gerard, just like don’t think about it like that. Just let it be, okay? You’re my friend as long as you want to be.” It’s moments like these when Gerard realizes he’s selfish. He spends so much time thinking about his curse and feeling sorry for himself that he doesn’t look around enough to notice that other people are hurting too. Yeah, he knows Pete’s going through something difficult, just being here without his family, knowing that they could be here, or that he could be next someday. He knows Mikey is going through a lot too, imprisoned inside of a book. Hell, even Patrick is going through something, because he doesn’t know what it means for him to be attracted to Pete in the way Gerard likes Frank. Everyone is going through something, but he always makes it about him because he’s the only one who was cursed to be the way he is.

Gerard looks at Pete, who has big brown eyes which are so similar to Frank’s in color but couldn’t be more different. Pete’s have hurt and desperation in them. “Pete, we’ve just… you’re a very good friend, Pete. I don’t normally have friends. My entire life it’s just been Patrick and I, and if I haven’t been great at letting you in, it’s because I’ve never really done it before. But like, that’s going to stop. And soon… soon I’m going to be a better friend to everyone.”

The two of them look at each other and Gerard swears it’s the most real moment the two of them have ever shared. Gerard doesn’t even know if he remembers just how he acts around Pete, because he’s honestly been so focused on Frank this entire time that Pete has been little more than a presence, but he is such a good person and Gerard hasn’t really allowed that to seep into him. He’s focused so much on Pete ordering him around, but like, everyone orders him around all the time. Pete’s not an exception just because Gerard has noticed it from him more than other people.

However, Gerard is so close to finding Brendon, so he does mean it that things will change. When this this is taken from him, this curse, he will be able to open himself up. He needs to be truly himself before he can really start to work on how others will see him.

Patrick clears his throat, and Gerard looks at him, but he hadn’t forgotten Patrick was there. “Well I care about both of you, if anyone was interested.”

“I care about you too, Patrick,” Gerard says, rolling his eyes.

Pete doesn’t say anything just looks at Patrick and Gerard can tell he shouldn’t be privy to this particular eye contact but he’s here so he’s going to have to pretend he’s not awkward about it. Is that how he looks at Frank? No. definitely not. He cares ways more about Frank than that eye contact could ever come close to.

With Frank on his thoughts, his heart skips a little bit at the soft knock on the door that precedes Frank entering the room. It’s only been a little while, definitely not more than an hour, but Gerard feels something like relief. He had been holding a breath ever since Frank left and now that he’s back, he can release it. The castle is a big spooky place without someone beside you, and Frank is the one who knows this place best, so who better to be here with? Also, Frank is the person Gerard most likes having beside him… or sitting behind him, holding him up on a horse. Or just really close to him in bed. Wherever.

“Hey, how did the letters go?” Frank asks, and he’s asking all of them, but he only looks at Gerard, the other two might as well not be in the same Kingdom as them.

“I think mine is too long,” Patrick says, holding up his papers, of which Gerard doesn’t even want to count. Gerard’s had been like three pages. A lot of profound stuff about liking Frank, excitement about being so close to finding Brendon, and several anecdotes about how he can’t believe he was in Giantville and is now visiting the castle. Hopefully Ray will receive it and know not to worry, because Gerard’s been gone for longer than he really should have been. It’ll put both of their minds at ease if Ray knows where Gerard is.

“Great,” Gerard says. He doesn’t mean to look at Frank’s lips, but they’re right there and he looks at them anyway. This is stupid, he’s going crazy.

“Are you ready for that castle tour?” Frank asks.

“Oh, fuck yeah,” Pete says, standing up excitedly.

“Just give me a few moments to finish this up,” Patrick says, and he stands up, hand still flying across the page as he tries to cram in a few additional details. This leaves Frank and Gerard to look at each other for several long moments. It’s really not fair that he was born into royalty and he happens to look like that. His lips are so perfect, and Gerard wants to put those lips against his more than anything. His face is a little wide, soft as anything you could imagine. His hair, his hair that Gerard remembers describing to Frank as slightly better than most people’s hair. He didn’t know then how soft it was, how when you run your hands through it, pull it even just a little bit, Frank will make the softest sound that could stop the air from entering Gerard’s lungs. Gerard gulps visibly. How does Frank even do this to him?

“Okay, I’m done,” Patrick says, holding up all the papers, before he puts them back on the desk and tries to fold them down, despite them being too thick to fit into the envelope. After some good old-fashioned persistence, Patrick does perform an astonishing feat by getting them all into the envelope.

Frank smiles, and that’s when his gaze even acknowledges that there are two other people in the room. “Great! Then let’s get to it.”

Gerard had set Mikey’s book down on the table where he had written his letter, so he goes to the table and picks him up before he follows. Frank notices this and his lips curl just a little bit at the sides. “Still got that book, I see?”

Gerard hasn’t spoken to Frank once about this book, only Patrick even knows it’s a magical book. Frank must have noticed then that Gerard pays particular attention to where the book is, and it’s often by his side. He gets a little tingling in his stomach at the thought, because Frank really does pay attention to the little things. He doubts even a commoner would notice the things Frank does, but here’s the Prince, making note of Gerard holding a book.

“It’s an important book,” Gerard says. He doesn’t respond, Frank just gestures for them to follow him, and the three of them all exit out the door that they had come through, the one which is being guarded by Alex who nods courteously at Frank when he sees him, though Frank barely acknowledges him in return because he’s waiting for Gerard to stand beside him.

Frank waves around the entry hall and says some things that are of historical significance that Patrick will treasure but Gerard couldn’t care less about. He tells them about when the grand staircase was built and how the King who had put it in had dedicated it to his late wife. It’s a gorgeous room, by any accounts, but Gerard isn’t much for architecture. The hall is lit by several glass windows that stab into the ceiling, along with several torches placed mathematically across the space to give it the appearance of being bigger than it is, so Frank explains. Frank is knowledgeable about it all, but he doesn’t have a whole lot of wonderment about it, but to be fair, he has lived here his entire life.

The first room he takes them to is just a big huge dining area, directly across from the drawing room. It would easily put any other dining room in the world to shame, but at the same time there’s big centerpieces spread out through the long table every foot or so, which would make it impossible to have a conversation with anyone. Frank explains that this is intentional, as it’s considered poor manners in high society to converse with anyone at a table aside from whomever is sitting directly next to you. Patrick and Gerard give each other this shared look at how ridiculous that is. They really are from a poor town. It’s considered rude not to eat every single drop of food on your plate and thank the cook every five minutes or so as you eat it.

From the dining room, he takes them to the library, which he doesn’t dwell too much on despite Patrick’s mouth having fallen through the floor. In all, it’s three stories high, and there are ladders that lead you up to the other floors which have a railing going around them. It’s the kind of place Gerard could spend the rest of his life, but he wonders how watered down these millions of books are, considering the King who is in ownership of this collection. The political book Gerard had given Frank had been all but totally destroyed, he doesn’t even know how few other copies of it there are in the world, but surely, nothing like that could ever be found here.

Gerard remembers what Frank had said, that reading doesn’t come easy to him. They had talked about it briefly in the days spent on horseback. He had said that words seem to jumble themselves along the pages, even as he reads them, as if they’re getting up and walking around. It’s almost like his brain sees the letters in a different way than other people do. He supposes, that’s why Frank doesn’t love this room as much as Patrick and Gerard easily could. It doesn’t have as much meaning to him when it’s nearly impossible to read the books here.

As Frank takes them between rooms, Gerard asks, “so, uh, how did your meeting with your Uncle go?”

“Well,” Frank says, “he wants to meet you.”

“He does?” Gerard says, voice drooping a few pitches.

“Yes,” Frank replies. Meanwhile, continuing to tell the three of them facts about the room they’re in, which is the room on the right side of the staircase, the door mirrored from the library where he’d just taken them. This is the room where Frank had had school lessons as a kid, though he had also spent a lot of time in the library as well. It’s definitely not as magnificent as the other rooms that they’ve been taken to, but it’s not ugly either.

“Uh, when?”

“Well… in about an hour actually.”

“Holy shit, an hour? Fuck, what am I supposed to even say to him?”

“It’s not a formal meeting or anything, he just wants to meet you, I told him you were a… very important person to me. He’s got something to attend to during dinner, so he can’t meet then, but like, I told him it was of significance that you two met.”

You told him that? Why would you tell him that?”

“Because you’re very important to me, and I know you hate to hear it, Gerard, but he’s important to me too. Oh, and I guess because he’s the King and this is his castle, and if he wants to meet the guests within it than he gets to do just that.”

“Oh my god, I hate this, I haven’t prepared,” Gerard shakes his head. Frank then gestures for them to follow as he leads them to another room, which is up the big grand staircase. Gerard feels too dirty to even touch the balustrade. At the prospect of meeting the King, he is also becoming aware of how dirty his clothes are. These are clothes he’s owned since he stopped growing, which was several years ago now. They’re washed in a big pot on the kitchen sink along with everything else Gerard owns. He looks behind him at the steps he’s already taken to make sure he isn’t leaving dirty footsteps, which thankfully he is not.

The next room is what turns out to be one of what Frank tells them is many sitting rooms. Gerard’s not sure what a sitting room is for. Sitting? Is that it? Do you need an entire room dedicated to sitting? Sitting is very easy, all you need is one butt and a place to put it, you don’t need an entire room, or multiple rooms, made simply for doing it.

“You’re not debating him, Gerard. We talked about this. Please just be cordial, and act like you at least respect his authority, because not to is treason and really, really bad. It’s kind of like, really important that you get on his good side, because like… well, many reasons.” He then turns to the door of sitting room one and guides them all back out. The hallway bends into another one which looks a lot less like stone from the inside than it does on the outside. The castle is at once everything and nothing he expected. It’s grand and beautiful, but dim and daunting and lonely as all hell. This hallway does not seem to use the same technique as the entryway, because it’s dimmer, and there are skylights above them, but they seem like only crevices in the narrow stretch.

“Fine. What about those two?” Gerard points at Pete and Patrick who are now ogling some big painting that takes up over half of the wall, floor to ceiling, which would really impress Gerard if he didn’t have other things on his mind.

“Oh, well, he didn’t want to meet those two,” Frank says, and blushes just the slightest bit, which is weird, because Gerard doesn’t know why that would make him blush.

“Did you say something about them? Or about me in particular?”

“You know, the castle is very much the same everywhere you go,” Frank says, voice becoming louder to announce it to the other two. “We don’t need to go into every room. Perhaps I could just show you to your rooms?”

“We get our own rooms?” Pete asks, looking astonished and thrilled.

“Of course,” Frank replies. Maybe it’s just being in his home, but Gerard can see some of that royal, and rich charm about him. Frank seems a touch more official than he usually does, and his manners are definitely something different than normal. Gerard’s not going to lie, he’s attracted to this side of him just as much as the Frank he’s gotten to know the past week. This Frank is the soon to be King, he’s studied etiquette and probably higher learning than Gerard is used to for all his life. Frank is not world savvy to begin with, but this Frank is the least shrewd as they come. But something about the authority of him is attractive, even though Gerard is severely annoyed with him.

“Then take me to my room!” Pete says, then realizes who he’s talking to, “your highness.”

Frank looks at Gerard at the words, his nickname. Gerard turns a faint shade of pink. Frank bites his lip, while Gerard looks at him with a message that says many things without words needing to escape.

“Right this way, then,” he waves a finger and they all follow. Frank isn’t entirely true to his word, as they do still peak into a few rooms which he deems worthy of showing them. They see a meeting room that gives Gerard chills, because it makes him think about all the terrible things that were made into law only feet from where he stands. Right here might very well have been the place where the King signed the law restricting where Giants were allowed to roam. The place where Ogrecide became fact, and the place where Elves became indentured, originally for entertainment purposes, but Gerard suspects that has spanned across to all sorts of work now. All of it happened here.

Quite a grand place for it to all happen too, it’s a round table, so large Gerard questions how it could even have been constructed. It was made to fit this room only, because there’s no way it could have been brought in from elsewhere. The walls, like a few of the other rooms they’ve seen, are made not to look like they’re constructed of stone, with wood paneling disguising them, making the room seem warmer than it actually is. The carpet beneath them is an astonishing purple, the most royal of all colors. The torches aren’t lit here, but the window bleeds into the room an orange, yellow glow.

When Frank sees Gerard’s jaw clench, he takes them away from the room as quick as he can, because he can see the thoughts in his head, and doesn’t want them to risk putting Gerard into a mood before meeting Edgar.

He takes them to something called a “morning room” but for the life of him, Gerard doesn’t know what that is. It kind of looks like one of those goddamn sitting rooms. They pass by another several doors that they don’t even go in, too many doors for Gerard to even count. How bloody huge is this place even?

Gerard asks him where the hall of records is, and Frank tells him it’s well past them now. He wonders if Frank had walked past it intentionally, because he doesn’t trust Gerard not to start searching for Brendon on the spot. Not a terrible assumption if that was where his mind had gone. Finally, they get to what Frank describes as the east wing. It’s one of the parts of the castle that juts out, almost as a separate entity to the rest of the building, and he says that it contains only bedrooms.

“Pete and Patrick, these two will be your rooms,” Frank says as they turn around the corner to a hallway lined with many doors. He points to two such doors that look exactly the same as all of the other doors. Gerard hopes none of the other rooms are occupied, because there’s no number or anything to indicate which is which, so there’s a very good chance that one or both of them will accidentally walk into the wrong room at some point. That’s just an eventuality that Gerard’s going to steer his mind away from and hope for the best.

“Cool,” Pete says, and he walks right through the nearest door, barely even finding the time to open the door before he speeds in. Gerard peaks his head in and is blown away by how big it is. This room is the whole first story of his house, kitchen and all. It’s extremely nice, though Gerard doubts it’s the nicest room in the castle, because he hasn’t even seen Frank’s room, and he can’t even fathom the difference. These are rooms for guests, Frank’s is a room made for royalty.

Gerard watches as Pete unceremoniously jumps onto the bed with his arms and legs splayed out and starts wiggling around. “This is so cool!”

“Will you two be okay on your own from here? Until dinner, I mean. We’ve got just enough time for me to show Gerard to his room, and then we have to meet with my Uncle.”

“Yeah, we should be good,” Patrick says, giving Frank and Gerard a friendly nod and smile. Gerard can tell that Patrick wants to be with Pete, and that makes him a little bit jealous, not because he wants to be with Patrick romantically, but Patrick is his best friend in the world, and up until a week ago, they had been each other’s only friends. Now, things have changed. They’re both sharing their time with other people. Patrick is still Gerard’s best friend, but now, they both have more than just each other. Gerard’s sure he’ll get over it once he gets used to whatever the hell his life is right now.

Once Frank’s words call him into action, his mind erases of the other two completely. Gerard’s so focused on Frank that he doesn’t even turn back as he guides him back the way they came. As soon as they turn the corner, and are out of sight, Frank grabs ahold of Gerard’s hand and begins to run. Frank drags him to what feels like the exact opposite side of the castle, and in truth, it kind of is. The guest rooms are on the east wing, whereas Frank lives in the west wing, or that’s how he explains it. Why on earth Gerard’s room would be in the west wing, where Frank lives, he doesn’t have an explanation for, but Pete already decided for him where he’d be staying, so it doesn’t much matter where the room Gerard isn’t going to sleep in is.

Gerard doesn’t think about it until they pass by a knight who’s just patrolling the castle halls, but Frank is just dragging him through the building by the hand. So apparently Gerard just holds Frank’s hand now? Maybe it’s innocuous, because Frank is seriously dragging Gerard along behind him to get him to their destination, but still, Gerard can’t help but think about it from that knight’s perspective. What does he see? There goes the Prince whose been gone for several months and he’s dragging a boy behind him. Maybe the knight is like Gerard when he first met Frank and would never assume a boy likes another boy.

Gerard is led past several gorgeous paintings, he wishes he could be as talented as the people who made them. Maybe when he’s done with the curse, he’ll give it a go. He’ll need something to do, he supposes when he’s not worrying about his curse anymore. He’ll pick up a brush, paint something worthy of hanging up in the castle.

They walk past windows, torches, royal crests and many doors. Then, the hallway starts to change. The carpet becomes nicer, the paintings grow smaller, but more intricate both in detail and in the frames they’re hung in. That’s when they turn the corner and Gerard sees the west wing.

It definitely looks like the royals sleep here. The carpet is a deep red, and soft even under Gerard’s shoes. The doors are of a finer wood, though Gerard doesn’t know how that’s possible. Everything in this castle is of the highest quality but this is even higher.

“That one will be yours,” Frank says, and he pulls Gerard to a door about midway down the hallway. This one is labeled as the King Henry room, which is a name Gerard knows he’s learned in class before but all he knows is it’s some long dead King. It’s probably not a relative of Frank’s, though. Frank’s family line is actually relatively new, the last monarchy had sort of died out due to inbreeding, so that was outlawed, though why it was allowed before, Gerard doesn’t know. He had been tasked with memorizing the family tree in class, which he did not do successfully because all he knows is that Frank’s grandfather was the first of this line of royalty.

Gerard opens the door to the King Henry room to find it already lit, so the servants must know already that Gerard is staying here. He finds that oddly discomforting. He thinks too much about what other people are thinking. However, if they know Gerard is staying here, then they must therefore know that Pete and Patrick are staying in an entirely other hall which means there’s probably a reason for why only one of the three guests is staying in this hall, near Frank. After he puts Mikey’s book down on the table nearest to him, Gerard is very harshly pulled straight back out of the room and shown to the door directly next to it, which belongs to Frank. So not only is Gerard the only one of the three of them in this hall, he’s directly next to the fucking Prince’s room. Even more gossip.

Frank has the door pulled open by the time Gerard stumbles his way behind him, finding his footing. Frank definitely hadn’t meant to nearly pull his arm right out of its socket, but he rubs at his shoulder lightly anyway. Honestly, Frank is just cute and energetic, and no one can see the two of them right now so he’s fine with it.

“So, this is your room?” Gerard asks, looking around. It’s utterly pristine, and royal down to the tassels on the curtains. The color scheme is a dark blue, with the curtains matching the duvet, which covers the largest bed Gerard has ever seen. No one could person could ever require so much bed just to themselves. Maybe it’s a good thing Gerard will be here to keep Frank company in it. The bed itself is grand, with a bronze frame, and an inlet in the wall instead of a headboard, that reaches all the way to the ceiling and is so fucking fancy that Gerard doesn’t even want to look at it. The ceiling is extravagant and extremely busy with artwork that he suspects took months to mold, and a crystal chandelier that could take your breath away if you didn’t know to expect it. The walls, much like the rest of the castle, are intricately sculpted with crown molding so detailed Gerard could stare at it for hours and still not get the entire picture. There is a running theme throughout the castle to do detail work in gold on the walls, and that’s no different here. Frank has a seating area in his bedroom. Who has a seating area in their bedroom? This castle and it’s all goddamn sitting. It’s just two couches facing a gorgeous marble fireplace, but both couches look fit for, well, royalty.

Gerard is awestruck. He doesn’t have words. No room like this should ever exist.

“So?” Frank asks.

“It’s hideous,” Gerard replies.

Frank grins, and almost laughs, “I know right?”

Gerard turns to look at Frank instead of the atrocious room which is completely devoid of personality. Frank is everything the room isn’t. Unique, asymmetric, a little hurried, and so fucking beautiful. He honestly doesn’t know what comes over him in the seconds between his appraisal of the room and his glance towards Frank. Gerard can’t help himself, he grabs Frank right there and pulls him in, attacking his mouth like he never has before. Maybe it’s the castle, the whole romantic architecture or whatever, but Gerard just cannot get Frank’s lips, his hands, his chest, his thighs, his arms out of his head.

Gerard wants to kiss every single part of him and touch every part of him that he doesn’t get the chance to kiss. He thinks maybe it’s just because this is the most alone they’ve ever been. Not in an inn in the middle of Giantville, with knights and his friends on the other side of the wall. Not in a tent in the middle of the woods, where even the faintest light can cast a shadow that shows everything inside. The only place this private was on the road between Gerard’s house and Frell, but back then, Gerard never would’ve kissed Frank. However, here he is so completely free, uninhibited by eyes, ears, or anything else of the matter. He’s in the castle, with sturdy walls, heavy doors, locks so strong an Ogre couldn’t barrel the door down.

“Gerard,” Frank says faintly, Gerard’s hair threaded through his fingers. The two of them have kissed like war before, so it’s not new. That morning in the inn, that was about as ferocious a kiss can get. But still, Gerard’s teeth biting at Frank’s bottom lip, pulling it a little bit, then letting it go, and rubbing his tongue over that spot... it’s a lot. Frank angles his head to get more. More.

How did Gerard ever end up here? With the Prince of the Kingdom he fucking lives in sticking his tongue all the way down Gerard’s throat, and dragging said Prince towards the bed, because standing is uncomfortable, and he really just wants to get Frank right underneath him and kiss him so hard that he forgets his own name. And when he gets him to the bed, Frank pulls Gerard on top of him, so now Gerard is straddling this man which you don’t do to the Prince, okay? But it’s so familiar. Frank’s lips are so soft, and he wants them all over him, and he wants to do terrible things to this man which he never even thought of doing to another person before he met Frank, and he doesn’t even know what those things are, but he wants Frank naked and writhing.

Gerard’s got one hand on the bedspread supporting himself over Frank, and the other hand on his hip, and Frank’s tunic must really be riding up because it’s exposed a little sliver of skin and Gerard wants to touch. Frank moans underneath him and the sound is so sinful that Gerard has to reassure himself that they’re alone, because no one in the world should ever hear that noise out of Frank ever. Gerard probably shouldn’t hear that sound out of Frank, but he did and he’s kind of selfish and wants to hear it again.

“Fuck, holy shit,” Frank whispers, when Gerard finds the part of Frank’s neck where he can taste his pulse and he plants his mouth there. God, what has he done to deserve this moment? He kisses every inch of skin on Frank’s neck, he’s not trying to leave marks there, though he supposes that might happen, he’s just trying to get as much of Frank as he can. Is this even him, how is this even him? He’d never kissed anyone before, but here is, royal fucking bed chamber, royal fucking prince, in the royal fucking bed, and Gerard is on top of royalty. And royalty is pulling Gerard’s mouth to his and kissing him so hard that he could punch the sun. Now Gerard’s moaning at Frank’s delicate touch on his back, lips against his, it’s so wrong but beautifully delicious.

This room, he notices, is so hot. He can feel himself sweating beneath his clothes, and he doesn’t want them anymore. He pulls himself away, Frank whining. He begins with Frank’s tunic that’s already pushed up, now if only to get it all the way off. God Gerard craves that pale skin with the dark ink. Of all parts of Frank, that ink is where he most wants to get his fingers, to trace, to kiss, to commit to memory.

“Oh fuck, Gerard,” Frank says, in a not very sexy way but in a way that Gerard doesn’t like. Frank’s hair is literally so erotic right now, a mess in every which way, and his lips are red and maybe a little swollen. His cheeks are so pink, and there’s a glistening of sweat on his forehead. He’s so unholy looking right now and it makes Gerard question how he could ever have believed he wasn’t attracted to men, or more specifically, this man. “We can’t do this right now, we’ve got to go. My uncle will be waiting for us.”

“Shit,” Gerard says, because those are the last words he needs to hear right now. They should, ideally, never do anything ever besides this. Whatever this is or wherever it was going, Gerard’s not going to pretend to know, but with his pupils blown out as much as they are, and brain located entirely in his lower half, all he knows is anywhere other than this bed is unwelcome. In this state, Gerard kind of doesn’t care about his soul or anything else so trivial, because he wants Frank and he’s already kind of fucked up his prospects of being pure at this point anyway.

“I hate it too,” Frank says, and Gerard officially pulls himself off of Frank, and into a sitting position. Frank groans, as he pulls himself up to be beside him. Gerard looks at him, and tries to pat Frank’s hair down, not because he thinks Frank looks better that way, but because walking into a meeting with his Uncle looking like that would be a very bad idea. “You’re so fucking pretty.” Frank says, staring into Gerard eyes and the two of them kiss again in a different key than they just had. This kiss is very decadent, and somewhat lazy. Gerard stays in it for as long as he can bear before it rushes back to him that he’s about to meet the shittiest dude in the entire Kingdom.

“Frank, we should go get this shit taken care of,” Gerard says, pulling away. He stands up, looking briefly at the bed beneath Frank which had been so well made and absolutely perfect, without even the tiniest bump in the fabric, but it’s now all mussed.

“Oh, actually, give it a minute,” Frank says, his eyes very quickly darting down to look at his own lap before he looks at Gerard, with a sheepish smile. Gerard blushes and makes a point to look anywhere but at Frank’s pants. Gerard sits back down, and now it’s awkward.

Gerard purses his lips and then smiles a little before laughing to himself. This is the most ridiculous situation. Here he is sitting in Frank’s room, a month ago not knowing he could like boys, wishing only to be with Frank in ways he’s never even thought of before. And Frank fully wants him the same way.

“Why are you laughing?” Frank says, looking embarrassed.

“Come here,” Gerard says, grinning and he grabs Frank by the collar of his shirt to kiss him. This really is what he wants.

“I love you, you know that?” Frank mumbles.

“Mhm,” Gerard says.