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Kumako Shock
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Posted: Mon Nov 25, 2024 8:27 pm

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Characters: Stefan & Sverre
Prompt: After the events of history class Sverre wants to find out just why Stefan couldn't remember him in the hallucination.

Posted: Wed Nov 27, 2024 7:25 pm

There were a few feelings that Fane was intimately aware of. The swirling self loathing that clung to his every move. The resignation of never quite being enough in the eyes of his step-mother. The hopeful desire to see his sisters safe, healthy, and loved. The warmth of finding someone that seemed to be his other half when he was barely sixteen. The bittersweet ache that had nestled into his heart the last six years as he attempted in vain to find Sverre after he had fled.

Sickening dread was not one of those feelings.

Maybe it had been once, but his namesake had graciously beaten it out of him at a fairly young age. Or maybe the loss of his mother had bathed him in so much apathy that he couldn't find it within himself to dread whatever punishments he'd earned from the king. Whatever the reason, the sudden re-emergence of the sinking pit that seemed to bore right into his very core was unwelcome at best. A complete ******** nuisance at worst.

Something had happened in that history class. Something that he would never be privy to, every time he went back all he could find was the class all collectively passing out. But since that day Sverre had looked at him with more emotion in his eyes than Fane was used to seeing. Hurt, love, betrayal, all of it swirling in those blue, blue eyes he normally loved to get lost in. Yet lately they were telling a story that he couldn't find, no matter how far back in time he examined. No matter if he went to that classroom and paused the scene to hyper analyze the time of the desks, of the plants that instructor Lan kept around the room. Nothing was telling him what he had done. Or if he had done anything at all.

He was so desperate he'd played back the events of his entire life the other night just to see if he could find something Sverre would fault him for. Replaying over and over every time they found themselves drawn together like there was a magnet between them in the high scale clubs that his shorter beau liked to frequent when they were younger. It had taken so long for them to finally talk. Instead drifting around each other and riding the tension that seemed to crackle between them any time Sverre requested a new drink like Fane was his personal servant.

Then he had fast forwarded to the first time they had found themselves alone in an empty bathroom together. Fane's stupid comment about how it was a shame neither of them were a girl so they could kiss. It was a dangerous comment at best in Chronos. He'd known that at the time. Yet somehow he'd been lucky as the tension that had built up between them seemed to snap in an instant. Then the most beautiful man he had ever seen ended up in his arms as they tumbled backwards into a stall out of sight. It may had been the first time, but it certainly wouldn't be the last.

Of the first time he bought them a room to sleep together. Sverre had been acting like a doofus, trying to sound so much more experienced than he was. Like he always did when he was nervous. He'd never let it crack his exterior - probably to help ground his lover - but Fane could see his own nerves in the small ways he carried himself. He couldn't quite remember the way he felt in the moment, but looking back at it as he was now, it was easy to guess that he had been ready for someone to figure out what they were trying to do. Yet no one ever called them on it. No one interrupted them as Sverre got to see the bruises that had littered his body for the first time. The first time the other man had seen the handful of scattered tattoos that were now lost in the sea of ink that littered Fane's chest.

Then there was the fall out from the coup. Those missing months when he was nothing but a shell trying to learn to function without substances in his system. Sverre had disappeared somewhere in those months, right after he had told him about the engagement. The one his step-mother had informed him was not, in fact, called off. For all of his pomp, the love of his life had fled without another word. Just another person let down by the mess that was the crown prince of Chronos. Fane's deepest regret was not getting to tell Sverre in that moment how much he loved him.

There had been a long time when he thought he would never have the chance. No matter where he had looked or how hard he tried it was like Sverre had just disappeared from the kingdom. He'd spent the better part of a year trying to find him, but Fane, ironically, didn't have the time. When it became clear that his love did not want to be found, he'd given up. And when that had only made the ache in his heart hurt worse, Fane let himself forget. Those days where he was listless, knowing he had purposely omitted something from his rewinds only to be irritable and unable to say what. They were somehow worse. So he had also given up on that.

But Fane was coming up empty no matter where he looked. All he was doing was reminding himself why he loved that pompous brunette with his every breath. No, even beyond his last breath he would love his duke. The only clue he had was that it had started with history class. That strange, inexplicable history class. Then Sverre had hit him the worst four words possible.

"We need to talk."

And at the start of the day too. What a d**k move. It was the first thing he flicked to every time he had to refresh his memory, meaning that it was constantly there in the front of his mind. That was when the dread had crept in. Over the course of the day it had been building, slipping and creeping into every last pore and fiber of his being. How he had managed to slink through the rest of his day when his body felt like lead and sludge had dripped down into his stomach, weighing him down more than even ruling his kingdom had. Maybe it was some sick revenge for whatever horrible thing he had done.

Worse still, maybe he deserved it.

Finally the day had come to a close. His heavy body had found itself just a few doors down from his own room, waiting for an answer to his knock. And waiting. And waiting. Until a soft sound behind him made Fane turn to find the very man he was waiting for. Chronesian Jesus he wanted to just melt into Sverre. Seeking the comfort of his touch was the only thing the prince could think about. Yet they couldn't. Not yet. Frustration bubbled under his skin. It was always behind closed doors, always holding back. Continuing to wait as Fane stepped aside. Still waiting as Sverre unlocked the door. Ever more waiting as they both stepped into the room.

With the soft click of the door closing behind them it was as if the dam had broken. Swift hands found soft cheeks as Fane pulled Sverre to him, hungrily pressing his lips to the other man's. There was a fervor to each twist of their tongues, each small kiss as they came up for air. One that had built up in tandem with the tears that were clinging to Fane's lashes. A new feeling had laced itself in with his dread. One that seemed to penetrate down into his bones.

Fear.

"Tell me what I've done." His voice was raw when Fane was finally able to speak, breathy from the panting mess they'd been reduced to. Almost as quickly as he'd uttered the words, he gave a soft shake of his head before pressing their foreheads together. "No, I don't need to know." Leaning in, he placed a gentle kiss on Sverre's cheek. "I'm sorry." Pulling back, he placed another on Sverre's forehead. "I'm so sorry." Fane's long fingers had twisted into that soft, brown hair he loved so much. Almost crumpling in on the other man, his face hovered for a moment over his neck. "Please don't leave me again." Then he let his forehead slip down to rest in the crook of his love's neck.

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Sverre's Room ♦ Sverre ♦ fit

Kumako Shock
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Posted: Wed Jan 22, 2025 10:08 pm

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Stefan Calvino Jr. was a stupid, stupid little a*****e!

That was Sverre's first thought after all was said and done. The absolute nerve of his idiot prince knew no bounds! He was absurd! He was insufferable! He was...dead. For those seconds that he had no frame of reference to work off of, his lovely Fane was dead. He hadn't any idea who Sverre was, but he'd still made sure that his duke was safe no matter the cost. Did he have any idea how ******** annoying that was??? And then, then he had the nerve to be alive after he bawled his eyes out for him!? Did that self-centered p***k not understand how selfish he was? How he's always been?

It was so ******** annoying.

So when said insensitive p***k had the nerve to sit there with his blah blah don't remember blah blah bullshit, Sverre Falker had one thing to say. "We need to talk." Storming off, he went about the rest of his day preparing for his boyfriend's eventual gatekeeping act. It might have been six years, but if there was one thing he knew in his heart would always be a part of Fane's person, it was that asking him to tell the whole truth about something was like asking a fish to swim.

Sverre was sluggish as the hours went on, exhausted from the running and heartache that he experienced in that weird other world. It was there that he thought back to the first time he laid eyes on his lovely little deceiver. So enamored was he with Fane's adorably depressed face that Sverre hadn't bothered to think about why a servant boy eerily similar in appearance to Prince Stefan would be coming out of Prince Stefan's room while no one else was there. Or when Fane would take off royal-esque clothing to go partying with. Or when the princesses spoke to him as though he were a close relative. Or why he was fine going along with it too.

But for a while there, that was fine. Sverre was completely satisfied with the fairy tale romance he had with that servant. Well, as fairy tale-like as making out in a dingy stall at a party most upper-class folk wouldn't be caught dead at could be. Still, the feeling he got when he was with Fane was like nothing else. From the taste of his lips to the way that he accepted Sverre for the perfect person that he was, Fane was everything Sverre could've ever wanted and more. And when his frown turned upside down? The entire world stopped so Sverre could focus solely on the most precious event to occur in this world.

Honestly, it'd been hard for Sverre to focus on much of anything prior to Fane. Whether because of his ability or because of his general lack of interest in most things, as he was already the best at them by virtue of being him™, Sverre couldn't seem to ever focus on just one thing at a time. It was only when he had a focus, usually one of his pocket watches, that he could ever really hone in on a particular activity. But with Fane? It was a whole different ballgame. If anything, it was hard for Sverre to focus on anything that wasn't Fane when they were together. Even when the honeymoon phase was over, there wasn't anything he'd want to do if it didn't involve his boo.

Unfortunately, there was a downside to their fairy tale: like all of them did, it had an ending. For the two of them, the conclusion to their story started with the big reveal. Sverre's mouth was agape for at least 30 seconds when Fane finally revealed himself to be Prince Stefan. So many things clicked into place in that moment. Not much changed at first, though. After all, Sverre hadn't bothered to concern himself about his boyfriend's background. He could've been a runaway criminal for all he cared; the only thing that was important to Sverre was that Fane really, truly loved him. All of him. He hadn't experienced anything like that before, or at least not really.

And then the other shoe dropped. Fane was to be married to a princess from Shahiti, Violetta Price, aka public enemy number 1. The absolute nerve of their respective kingdoms to put the two of them together! Like sure, nobody knew Fane and Sverre were together, but they should just assume that such a strapping young man like his prince was simply single and ready to mingle! Did bringing nations together and all that really mean so much as to not ask him whether he was willing to go along with it? And then there was the prince himself, giving real "this is simply how it is" vibes. Of course Sverre wasn't going to just be okay with that; what did he expect? Did he have no idea who he was speaking to?

No, that part would come later. Back then, Fane was simply the worst person at explaining things ever. No sort of "but we're not romantically involved, and I don't want to marry her in the first place." No sort of "don't worry, I will let them know that you're the only one for me, as you're perfect in every way, especially compared to literally who of Shahiti." Nothing! Well, he did give Sverre the puppy dog eyes and a tear or two. But still! To Sverre, that was the last straw. He could accept being led on throughout their entire relationship prior to this. Sverre was even fine with the constant splitting headaches he got while in the vicinity because someone just had to spend over a year trying to change something that was simply set in stone. Not that he didn't understand why.

That was the most frustrating thing, really. It all made sense. But it wasn't what he wanted for his life. What he wanted for them. And if Fane couldn't find it in himself to put the same gusto he had while preparing a case against his father into figuring out a way to get out of wedlock with little miss homewrecker, then clearly his supposed love for Sverre really was just a fairy tale. Fictional. And at that point, Sverre was done with fiction. Not giving Fane an opportunity to try and change his mind, Sverre walked out of his prince's room, went back to his home, got his things, got got by Irene, and ran.

The next few years weren't bad. Neither Sverre nor Irene knew jack s**t about living for themselves. It was definitely a rough start. But it was nothing that the smartest person in all of Chronos and his dutiful sidekick couldn't handle. After a short while, definitely not almost a year, they were practically running that place. Ignoring the fact that it was a small cot that only the two of them lived in to begin with, it was quite the accomplishment. But after a while, things got...dull. One can only go to so many parties and repeat them so many times before they get a bit dull. Moreover, one night he'd suddenly got hit with a force that took his psyche and gripped it like a vice. His conscience had decided to rear its ugly head after many years of staying nice and quiet, screaming at him to get his s**t together. And so he did in the best way he knew how. He went to get back at his ex for being a d**k.

Or at least, that had been the plan. At least, that was the plan. Stupid sexy Fane and his stupid sexy ways. No, it wasn't just because Fane was the most attractive person that Sverre had ever laid eyes on. It was also because Sverre was madly in love with that man. And this time, it seemed like there was nothing left for that man to keep from him. But of course there was more. Sverre honestly shouldn't have been surprised. But the look in Fane's eyes in that warzone? Only having the faintest hint of who Sverre was to him? That was heartbreaking in itself. But to see him die only to come back and listen to him have no recollection of that was just torture. He needed answers, but he also needed time. But as he went through the motions, he wondered if he should've specified a specific amount. After all, they weren't exactly the best at working under each other's schedules.

However, it seemed that this time Chronesian Jesus had made sure that the two of them sat down and talked this through. Right as he was getting back to his room, Sverre found Fane knocking on his door. Sverre was only barely able to close his door before his prince was upon him, only taking 0.0003 seconds to put his hands on his lips so that they could begin their conversation in tongues. Lovely, lovely tongues. This hadn't been the kind of communication Sverre had thought to conduct with Fane, but damn did he need it. He needed Fane's lips like clocks needed springs. To know that his fairy tale prince really was still with him. Deft hands slowly crept their way up his prince's back to wrap around his neck, pulling him in closer as they communicated their shared sense of dread.

By the time the two of them decided to let up, both of them were panting, and Fane was in tears. "Tell me what I've done." Sverre paused, noting how pained his lover's voice was. His crossed hands finding themselves at his lover's back, Sverre gently massaged it as Fane shook his head. "No, I don't need to know." Sverre looked up at his darling prince with a bittersweet smile as Fane just kept apologizing to him. "Please don't leave me again." What a mess. How this had all worked out in Sverre's head was that Fane would stand there while he laid it on thick about how he was done being so that Fane was the only one crying. Instead, Sverre felt tears roll down his own eyes as well. Why did Fane always have to be such a dumbass?

"Shh, shh. You're okay. We're okay. Okay?"

Leading Fane to his bed, Sverre sat down and tapped on the mattress for his prince to sit too. "But we are going to have a conversation about this." Sverre sniffled as his lover sat, intertwining his hand with Fane's. "I don't want to keep being left in the dark about things. I can't do that anymore," pleaded Sverre as his grip tightened ever so slightly. "You didn't seem to remember much of anything while you were there. You looked at me like I was a stranger. Because I was one, right?" The duke looked down, taking a moment to wipe his tears and collect his thoughts before taking his other hand and clasping both around Fane's.

"I need to know how this...how you work. Don't leave me in the dark anymore. It's scary. I was so scared."

As he was a brave gentleman who faced danger head-on all the time, Sverre hoped that Fane would understand how grave of a situation it was if he admitted how absolutely terrified he was. That in itself took a different type of bravery, one Sverre had been mostly unfamiliar with. But if they were really going to be together this time around, honesty and commitment would have to go both ways. Just as Sverre wanted to feel like he was being included in his lover's life, Fane should get to feel like he isn't one misstep away from being abandoned again. As the greatest mind of a generation, Sverre understood that better than most might. In fact, he was probably the most emotionally in-tune person he knew. But perhaps he would boast about that another time.

For now, he would put all his effort into getting an understanding of whatever the ******** was going on with Fane. Sverre took in a deep breath before resting on Fane's side. "I know you're scared too, but please, Fane. Please." Sverre's voice was a whisper, speaking to him like a prayer. He hoped his lover wouldn't shut him out this time. He couldn't bear any more of that. And he knew that deep down, Fane couldn't either. How could anyone go through as much as he had all alone? Sverre didn't want Fane to be alone. He didn't want to go on feeling alone himself. In a way, it was the same song and dance as back then.

But they'd both learned a few moves since those days. A whole suntrot and then some. So hopefully...no, this time would be different. Sverre desperately needed to believe that. He didn't know what to do with himself otherwise.

"Please."

Location: Sverre's Room
Company: Fane
OOC: Outfit

Posted: Fri Feb 07, 2025 7:13 pm

"You didn't seem to remember much of anything while you were there. You looked at me like I was a stranger. Because I was one, right?"

This was a nightmare. Whatever dread had been churning around in his stomach all day finally bottomed out, leaving the prince of time feeling drained and nauseous. Any color in his pale complexion drained as Fane took in the words Sverre was saying to him. His head was swimming as his lover pulled him to the bed, sitting down and patting the place next to him like Fane could sit at a time like this.

"I need to know how this...how you work. Don't leave me in the dark anymore. It's scary. I was so scared."

For a moment, Fane felt like he could sit. Like he could have a calm and rational conversation with Sverre about this. Lowering himself down, he took the spot next to his favorite brunette. They could do this. The very thing he'd been trying to do all of those years ago. The one that had turned into a clumsy attempt that drove a wedge between them. That had ended in Sverre fleeing from his life for six years.

The realization made his heart hiccup.

The bad way.

"I know you're scared too, but please, Fane. Please."

After what felt like an eternity, Fane's hands came up to drag over his face before shifting gear and pushing his long hair back as his fingers carded through it. Panic was welling up in the space behind his heart. It was an ache that seemed to be rising to a crescendo with every breath. He was right. Something had happened in that history class. Something that he couldn't remember. Couldn't flip back to. What kind of strange magic was locking him out? Why couldn't he see it? What was this place out of time?

"Please."

The last plea was what did him in. So much longing in one single word. So much hope on his shoulders with the pressure that once again, he would ******** this up. Traitorous lungs were constricting in his chest. Were the dorm rooms always this small? Snapping back up, Fane realized he needed to move. Yet he felt frozen. His stupid feet wouldn't move.

"I -" Voice cracking, he swallowed and tried again. "I will tell you. I promise. But please, give me time." No. No, no, no. That was stupid. Why could Fane never phrase things right? That wasn't what he meant. Quickly, the stumbling correction followed. "No. I mean - ********. I'm going to tell you now. Just don't -" For the first time since entering the room he met Sverre's eyes, a plea hanging in the air between them.

"Don't walk out on me while I'm still trying to explain."

Because that was what had happened last time, wasn't it? He hadn't fully finished trying to explain the engagement before Sverre was gone. Completely gone, content to walk right out of Fane's life like the love they had shared was nothing. If one engagement that Fane had already been spending the last six years evading was enough to send the brunette out of his life for years, what would Sverre think of the degradation of his memories?

Swallowing the mounting pressure in his throat, he tested his feet. Finally they would let him move, pacing like the frantic movement would prevent his nerves from getting the best of him. How did he explain this? What was the best way to start? From... from the beginning? Well, it was as good a place as any.

"I noticed it when I was... what? Eight? Nine? As heir my father -" The word was said like a curse. "- liked to parade me around fancy dinner parties, shmooze the upper class into liking our family better or something to stay in power." A scoff. "I was always told I needed to be perfect. I was an extension of my father. I was the heir. Anything I did reflected on him."

Pausing, he licked his lips. It was impossible to look at his love when he continued. "When I didn't... perform to his standards he would -" Pausing for a moment, his hands came up to press together over his mouth. How would Sverre handle this specific aspect of the truth? On some level he had to know. He'd seen the bruises that littered Fane's back and torso as a teenager.

"Beat me."

Despite saying them at nearly a whisper, it felt like he was screaming the words. Silence hung between them for the space of several very felt seconds. Every single one ticking away on his internal clock, making them seem far longer than they really were. All the while his heart felt like a caged animal trying to rage out of his chest.

"You can imagine that when I couldn't memorize the names of important people I had an incentive to find a solution." A dry chuckle tumbled out of his mouth, at odds with the storm that was swirling within him. It took him a moment to find the words he was looking for. When Fane did, they came out slowly as if he were trying to think of a better way to explain it as he spoke. "It started like that. With names. It wasn't this bad back then."

With his back to Sverre, he paused in his pacing. Clenching and unclenching his fists was the only thing he could think to do to try to get some of the nervous energy out. With his feet frozen from the terror of what he was about to say, it was the only thing he could do. "When we first met I could still... remember you."

s**t. ********. Why couldn't he explain anything well?

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Sverre's Room ♦ Sverre ♦ fit

Kumako Shock
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Posted: Tue Mar 18, 2025 11:26 pm

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He was taking too long. Not that Sverre had much experience with an emotionally troubled Fane; he was taking what felt like an eternity to respond to the duke as they sat there, the prince's hand trembling as Fane struggled to respond. In a way, this wasn't surprising. There was a distance that Fane had always kept with Sverre, servant boy facade or not. Closing that gap, even to the most lovely man in the land of time, would be difficult for him.

But that understanding didn't help the growing tension within Sverre. It was strange; just as clearly as he could see himself and Fane on his bed at Utopia, he could see the two of them on his bed at the royal castle when they were younger. He remembered that first night they spent there. Sverre hadn't questioned at all where Prince Stefan was or why no one seemed to care that a servant boy was taking a duke's son there without any other supervision. The reasoning didn't matter when their fingers were intertwined, only that he wouldn't let go.

"I -" The sheer hurt in Fane's voice snapped Sverre squarely back to reality. "I will tell you. I promise. But please, give me time." Immediately, Sverre's eyebrows furrowed. Was it really going to be this sort of s**t again? "Excuse you?" There was venom in that as Sverre's temper flared, his grip on Fane's hand loosening. Falling into old habits just like he felt his beloved was doing. His face softened soon enough, however, as Fane immediately realized how he just sounded.

"No. I mean - ********. I'm going to tell you now. Just don't -"

Fane looked over to Sverre, finally acknowledging the other man's existence with his own two eyes. They were his sad eyes. Did Sverre have his sad eyes on too? He was too caught within his lover's gaze to tell for himself. "Don't walk out on me while I'm still trying to explain." Was that...how his prince had seen it for all these years? That was- well, it wasn't entirely wrong, now was it? "I was always told I needed to be perfect. I was an extension of my father. I was the heir. Anything I did reflected on him." Sverre found this part so very confusing. Fane was already so perfect in everything he did. Even when he was being the most terrible communicator on the planet, he was perfect, which was why leaving him hurt so much. And also why he needed to leave. But perhaps that idea was coming from a biased source.

There was a lull in Fane's speech. Sverre scooted into his lover a bit more, wanting his prince to feel his closeness. To show those baby blues that were the only pair on par with his own that he would be there for every word. Any word. "When I didn't... perform to his standards he would -" An eyebrow was raised as Fane paused once again. Did what? Wait, he couldn't mean- "Beat me." Sverre stared intently at his lover, eyeing him up and down to pinpoint every detail of Fane's hurt as he spoke words so packed with trauma that it was like his prince was getting hit right then and there. Things were starting to make sense in ways Sverre hadn't thought possible. Or perhaps it was more that he didn't want to think it possible.

From the first time Sverre had seen Fane with his shirt off, he knew that the man had been hit in his life. Perhaps that was part of the reason Sverre clung to that servant boy story for Fane for so long; it was easy to understand. Some of the upper class were known to treat their staff poorly. But a father? The king? No wonder Fane got him sent to the slammer. But if he beat Fane, then...did Stefan Sr. also...

Holy s**t. I'm a ******** idiot.

Sverre might have mostly traded spit with Fane in their prior stint as lovers, but he had spent years living with Irene. Being close with Irene. Or at least, trying to. But if Fane was just distant, Irene always felt miles away. And yet when he decided to get out of dodge, Irene was packed and ready to do the same. Did he ever even bother to ask why that was? Or was that just another example of Sverre picking and choosing when to care about those he desperately wanted to care about him.

When Sverre first started feeling these sensations of self-reflection or whatever, it had only ever been regarding his immediate circumstances. The partying, the drinking. He figured that if he just dropped all that cold turkey, then his penance would be finalized. But as Sverre continued to watch Fane break down in front of him, the most brilliant mind in Chronos realized that perhaps that was barely scratching the surface of his selfishness. And while he had every right to be selfish in some circumstances, he hadn't meant to be so much so to the people he cared about. To the man he loved.

As Fane continued to recount the circumstances in which his memory problems began, Sverre couldn't find the strength to chuckle alongside him as though this were some lighthearted event. This was downright horrid. The way that Fane acted in that dreamscape, to hold a sliver of him so tightly to his chest that he still felt drawn to the duke without the faintest idea of who Sverre was. Or maybe that he only had that faintest idea.

"When we first met I could still... remember you."

"...Okay, but what the <********> does that even mean!?"

Another flare-up. Fane really knew how to tug him by the heartstrings and grind his gears in the same breath. It was what made him the best worst ex ever in his mind for all those years. But he was making such progress; he'd hoped that he could finish a thought at the very least. What else were all those royal advisors teaching him about, if not that at the bare minimum? "I-" Sverre took a breath, tempering himself once again. "I just- I don't get what that means," continued Sverre in a desperate need for clarification, his other hand coming over to cup Fane's along with the duke's other hand. He brought it towards him, positioning Fane's hand to press into his chest.

"Do you hear my heart pound for you, baby? It's here. I'm right here. I promise you, I'll always be right here this time. But I need you to keep talking to me, okay? Just...in general."

Sverre bit his lip for a second, looking down to collect his thoughts. "If I've got it all figured out so far, dear old dad was a piece of s**t that deserves every second he spends in that ******** cage. And from what he did to you, you...lost your memory to time? To overuse viewing time to please his sorry a**?" Sverre breathed a heavy breath. So this was why Fane paused all the time. Yeah, that's fair. "He tried that sort of s**t on Rene too then, yeah?" And if he'd laid a hand on Irene...did that mean he'd done the same to Addie? Adelaide, who spent almost two years in that day trying to save his sorry a** from imprisonment for the rest of his minutes on this planet he didn't deserve to take precious oxygen from? Addie, who bawled her eyes out night after night and did everything she could just to have not a moment of it matter? Sverre had already gotten the sinking feeling that dear old dad wasn't the best given how his only plan to escape his fate was to outright ditch, but this too?

This guy was really going for the worst dad of the year award several times over.

Sverre dropped Fane's hand back down, cradling it with both of his own once more. "And you thought...what? That I wouldn't listen? That I wouldn't care? Baby, I'm....I'm so sorry, baby." Sverre's eyes continued to produce a steady stream of tears. There was a lot of s**t that he could blame the king for, the list growing larger and larger the more that Sverre thought about it, but there was also the s**t that he himself had pulled. Something that, for years, he felt so confident about doing. That it had been the best choice for everyone. More bullshit.

"I wanna hear it then. Your memory of me. I want to know your recollection. Know your everything," continued the duke, resting his head beside Fane's shoulder. His fingers gently caressed the hand that he had stolen for himself, watery eyes looking up at his lovely prince's face. "And how much after that do you, just you, recall?" Did he remember their first kiss? The first time Sverre vomited after drinking way too much wine? The times they'd cuddle in bed and just enjoy their bodies against one another?

Sverre remembered it all and could reminisce on the good parts with a smile and reflect on the not-so-good when he wasn't shoving his head in his a**, but what did Fane have? Just the good? Just the bad? Was he...unable to remember the first time they perfected their first bottle of whiskey together? Well, Sverre's first anyways. And together was a stretch considering that Sverre only had about two shots worth. But that was quite genuinely a serious milestone in their relationship from Sverre's perspective, and there was a chance that it didn't ring a bell at all. It was harrowing. But harrowing moments were when gentlemen were needed most of all.

"Take your time...please, take your time, but...just don't shut me out, okay? No matter what, I'm not leaving. No matter what, baby."

Location: Sverre's Room
Company: Fane
OOC: Outfit

Posted: Tue Apr 08, 2025 8:10 pm

The room felt too big. Too small. Like it was stretching too long but closing in on him at the same time.

"...Okay, but what the <********> does that even mean!?"

Sverre was going to leave. Again. Fane could feel it in his bones. Deep down in the marrow like it was the life blood pumping through him. His duke had finally, finally gotten fed up with his bullshit and decided that he wasn't worth it. That the horrible reality of watching his memory slip away was too much for The Falker™. And could Fane blame him? Of course not. The only bitter irony was that after all of this time was that no one had found out. He hadn't slipped. Instead he chose to tell his love, and in return he was being left anyway.

Or so he had thought. The warm, soft hand that was wrapping around his pulled Fane out of the storm. Or maybe it was pulling him directly into the eye, where things would only seem clear for a moment. There was a desperate lilt to Sverre's voice as his hand was guided to feel the beat of his lover's heart. It was grounding. A tether to reach for to stop himself from panicking. Fane's fingers twitched against the sensation, meeting Sverre's eyes for the first time since he'd begun to explain. Since he'd begun to pace and panic.

Sverre was the first one to look away this time, dropping his gaze to collect his thoughts. Fane's eyes locked onto their hands, entwined against Sverre's chest. "If I've got it all figured out so far, dear old dad was a piece of s**t that deserves every second he spends in that ******** cage. And from what he did to you, you...lost your memory to time? To overuse viewing time to please his sorry a**?" To hear it all explained so plainly was... So very Sverre. A nervous laugh bubbled out of Fane's throat, the sound strangled. "He tried that sort of s**t on Rene too then, yeah?" Immediately his eyes turned dark, the hysteria and mirth receding against the hate that dwelled deep down in his heart where it was easy to hide.

"Jesus no." The words were nearly as choked as his laughter, though there was a desperate edge to them. Bringing his free hand up, Fane threaded his fingers through his hair to push it out of his face. "If he did..." The thought trailed off, and Fane shook his head like he could physically shake the idea out of his mind. "No. After... After I learned I had a sister, I... I started goading him. I wasn't allowed to see her but I wanted to keep her safe. So I made myself the target. I was illegitimate anyway. It was easy to make him angry with me when I was the heir and a reminder of his own shortcomings." His eyes were glassy as he continued to stare at their point of connection. His expression melting from hate to something blank. Like there wasn't enough left in him to feel. His heart, however, still felt like a caged animal. A beast raging in his chest like it could break free and exact revenge at any moment.

"And you thought...what? That I wouldn't listen? That I wouldn't care? Baby, I'm....I'm so sorry, baby." Their hands had dropped, snapping the tether that Fane had been clinging to. Without realizing what he was doing, he met Sverre's eyes again. Sverre's wet, tortured eyes. Eyes that were only just not piecing everything together, yet still weren't seeming to understand him. "I wanna hear it then. Your memory of me. I want to know your recollection. Know your everything. And how much after that do you, just you, recall?"

It was strange. Suddenly learning exactly what a caged rabbit felt like. How every nerve in your body screamed for freedom, to be anywhere but in this moment. Anywhere but here. And the horrible, agonizing realization that there was nothing you could do to get out of the situation.

"Take your time...please, take your time, but...just don't shut me out, okay? No matter what, I'm not leaving. No matter what, baby."

Little pin pricks were dancing over his shoulders. They were scattering, the static slipping down over his shoulders as his eyes began to water. "I don't want you to hate me." It felt like Sverre had reached directly into his chest and tied a band around his lungs. The air feeling like a struggle to gulp down even as he forced out the words. "So many people hate me, I can't-" A sharp gasp - only a gasp, definitely not a sob - cut Fane off. One that had him crumpling like a rag doll and leaning his head onto Sverre's shoulder.

Slowly, his free hand slipped up to cup Sverre's cheek. It was something he didn't need to see to do, which was great because he was still crumpled against his love like a used tissue. It was effortless. Even after all this time, he knew Sverre's body better than his own on instinct. How his cheek curved and the way it fit in his palm like it belonged there. The only thing easier was the way his thumb rubbed affectionately across Sverre's gentlemanly, defined cheekbone.

Slowly as his thumb traced the line of bone the scene around them changed, shifting into a night club. A nightclub with two idiots bumping into each other. One being mistaken for a servant and being asked for a drink. The scene fizzled out, replaced with the two nervously twining their fingers together for the first time. "You don't understand." He was being careful, deliberate as he shifted their time around them. Slow and steady. If he was too fast, Sverre would get sick and the point would be lost. "This is my memory. The rest is..." Fane pulled back, his other hand pulling out of Sverre's to cup his cheek. To force those storm blue eyes to meet his baby blues. "Gone."

Their past slowly fizzled back out, being replaced with the reality of Sverre's dorm room. "I don't know if it was overuse. I've never told anyone else what my power is." He wasn't sure if he wanted to kiss Sverre or vomit. Probably a bad idea to kiss him, really, if vomit was the other option. Still it lingered in his sternum, right next to the nausea. At least he would be prepared for the moment Sverre really did wake up and realize he wasn't worth it. "My stepmother, my sisters, the tutors and advisors - All of Chronos believes I am like my father. That I'm a time traveler."

He could feel his mouth watering uncomfortably, forcing him to swallow. "It could have also been the drugs. I -" His eyes dropped in shame. "We both know I haven't make the best choices. But left without my powers I'm, well, I guess I'm like how I was in the dream you keep telling me about."

His voice dropped quieter. Fane still couldn't meet Sverre's eyes but he pressed their foreheads together. "I tried to forget you when you left." The words tasted bitter, forcing more tears to cling to Fane's lashes. They were days that he often didn't flip through, only when he needed to for something else. Which ended up being more often than he wanted. "I thought it would be easy, all things considered. But even on my best days, I knew something was wrong. That something was missing." This time his chuckle didn't sound strangled or hysterical. It just sounded sheepish. "All of those meetings, all the things I suddenly needed to learn and that missing thing was always you."

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Sverre's Room ♦ Sverre ♦ fit

Kumako Shock
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Beyond The Time
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Posted: Mon Apr 21, 2025 8:00 pm

ＳＶＥＲＲＥ ⏲ ＦＡＬＫＥＲ
ＤＵＫＥＯＦＣＨＲＯＮＯＳ

"I don't want you to hate me."

Normally Sverre would call Fane a fool for even thinking such a thing could be possible. Well, six years ago normally anyways. He hadn't said much to his prince about his time, though, had he? Not aloud, no. He'd certainly channeled those countless hours of hurt into his every breath prior to the threesome that saved their relationship, but he never actually conveyed those feelings word for word. Sverre thought he was doing his man a favor by keeping his feelings to himself...and yet here he was, desperately asking his prince to stop doing essentially the same thing. Did that make them both the a*****e?

When the other potential a*****e stopped mid-sentence, Sverre just started gently brushing the hand of Fane's that he still had ownership of with his fingers. Feeling Fane's hand meet his face, Sverre felt a jolt as it nestled into place. The same place it always felt right in, and that always would. God, did he miss that hand. The wild nights and the wilder mornings after were fire and lightning and everything fantastical about the world, but his hand on him? That's what Sverre had cherished the most. As he felt Fane's thumb graze his cheekbone, he felt his vision blur into the fabric of time. It was like the bumpiest wagon ride in existence for him, but the ride was always easier when it was like this. When it was with his lovely prince.

Immediately did Sverre recall the scene. It was the best moment of his entire life. Well, I'd hope he'd remember this night at leas—huh? Like reading a book with missing pages, the scene jarringly changed all of a sudden. Their hands were intertwined for the first time. Sverre remembered the heart palpitations he felt when they had. He wasn't a true gentleman back then, so he hadn't had the motions down quite right. Since Fane can remember this, would he be able to comment on how he felt? How silly he must've thought Sverre was for mistaking him for a servant? If he'd felt the same kind of sparks that Sverre felt in that moment?

"You don't understand."

Slowly, the scene began to shift back to the present. But there was so much of that night left! What about them sneaking back into the royal palace like absolute buffoons? The smiles on their faces the whole way back? Th—"This is my memory. The rest is...gone." Sverre lifted his head up, looking into Fane's face with disbelief. Yes, he understood that his lover had memory problems. But just that? That was all he had when he woke up in the morning? What about his father's arrest? His time as acting ruler of Chronos? Gone. Sverre rested his head against Fane again, processing the sheer magnitude of this memory issue.

Finally, they were back in Sverre's room. The duke grasped Fane's hand, sniffling a bit as his prince continued to ponder the factors that contributed to his current affliction. Sverre was at a loss for words. How did Fane live like this? Obviously he found some way to do so, as he was right here, but living without memories to call your own...it just felt so wrong. Less than what his prince deserved.

"It could have also been the drugs. I - we both know I haven't make the best choices. But left without my powers I'm, well, I guess I'm like how I was in the dream you keep telling me about."

Sverre didn't need to look up to feel Fane's gaze shift down. The rest of his body always slumped ever so slightly when he did; Sverre had been blessed to have been able to memorize such shifts and what they symbolized. "You and me both, babe," responded the duke, a weak chuckle forcing its way out of his mouth. His prince brought their foreheads together, and Sverre allowed his sweet, lovely Fane to move him however he saw fit. "I tried to forget you when you left." The words came at Sverre like a moped to the heart, his hands clenching Fane's for a brief moment before he relented. But he stayed there, by his man's side. He didn't budge from his spot. He just listened.

As Fane kept talking, his words got sweeter. Gentlemanly water began to well up in Sverre's eyes, with the duke blinking tiny tears out. He'd fallen in love with such a goofball. Seriously, Fane really had a way of keeping a man on the edge of his seat. Sensing his lover had said what he needed to say, he brought his face into his prince's and kissed him. Sverre kept his lips on Fane's for a long moment, savoring the moment. For years, he thought he'd never get to enjoy such simple pleasures again. But God was good, and he brought them back together. Could've done so sooner, but whatever. Praise be and all that devout s**t.

Finally, after some moments, Sverre broke off the kiss. "Well of course something was wrong. Forget me? The Sverre Falker? You were doomed to fail from the start, dummy." A sly smile settled its way up his lips, broken up between sniffles but never staying gone for long. Sitting up, he took his hands from Fane's to bring his head down so he could kiss his sweet prince's forehead. Wrapping an arm around his lover's own, Sverre turned back to rest his head on Fane's shoulder. "I wasn't much better, though," Sverre admitted. His breath was shaky; he wasn't sure if he entirely wanted to proceed. But he needed to.

"When you told me about the whole Violetta thing, well...I'm not sure if you've got it queued up or not, but to say I didn't take it well would be the understatement of the century."

Sverre nestled himself further into his prince until he got into just the right spot. Well, the right spot wasn't the right place to put it. Every place where his body met Fane's felt right; it was just a matter of deciding on one. "I was so angry that someone could just get married to you...and jealous. Never thought about it that way before, but looking back, I was definitely jealous. Still am, in a way. She could walk down the aisle for you at the drop of a hat, but me? Well, I can't exactly get you any heirs." Sverre's fingers intertwined with Fane's, crossing his legs and just looking at the wall. Jealousy. It was such a simple feeling, but Sverre hadn't been able to comprehend how green his baby blues had gotten in that moment until just now. The duke of time sat there silent for a few moments, processing the clarity of mind that this moment of self-reflection had brought him.

"I shouldn't have made you my target for that. I should've walked up to Shahiti and kicked that princess's a** for trying to tie the knot with my man instead."

A smile returned for a fleeting moment but was unable to assert itself on Sverre's face for long. There was still some serious stuff to get through first. "I have to admit...I'm scared. Of where to go from here. Of how you're doing." The tears started to flow more freely. Taking his free hand to Fane's cheek, he gently nudged his prince to turn his way as he brought his head up and gazed up at him again. "But know this: I ******** love you, baby. I love you so much. Never stopped. Never will stop. Okay?" Sverre brought his head around to Fane's side, kissing him on the cheek. His hands gently caressed his lover's other cheek, tenderly looking into his eyes. Eyes he never should have turned away from. Eyes he swore he'd never do that to again.

Location: Sverre's Room
Company: Fane
OOC: Outfit

Posted: Thu May 08, 2025 8:36 pm

The press of Sverre’s lips to his was sweet. Like the frosting of a cake or a ripe strawberry rolled in sugar. It was a taste he craved, even when his mind was blank. Even when he couldn’t remember anything. This had somehow wormed into the core of his very being, branding onto his soul that Sverre Falker’s lips were the only ones in the world that felt like they were made by some mythical pantheon of gods to kiss Fane’s.

Even how chaste the action was didn’t matter, though the nausea roiling low in his belly reminded Fane that maybe it was better that it was a long, sweet press of their lips instead of something hotter and heavier. After a long moment that felt too soon, Sverre broke them apart. "Well of course something was wrong. Forget me? The Sverre Falker? You were doomed to fail from the start, dummy." As Sverre pulled his head down to offer a kiss to his forehead, Fane found himself chuckling. His arms dropped, snaking around Sverre’s waist to nuzzle into his neck for a moment. “You have no idea.” Pressing a kiss to his pulse, Fane pulled back enough that the brunet could lean on him.

Sverre had done his listening, now it was Fane’s turn.

Only the first admission wasn’t much of an admission. In fact, all it succeeded in doing was making Fane’s heart rate spike back up. The familiar tendrils of panic started wrapping their way around his lungs. The understatement of the century was putting it mildly, considering it was the very thing that had driven a six year wedge between them. The very thing that had left him more alone than ever trying to flounder his way through learning how to run a kingdom with too little too late.

Even now Fane was uncertain he was doing it right. With no one to bounce his thoughts off of but a chamber of people who were too self important to care about the people they were supposed to govern, it was impossible to say. The engagement still being intact was one of the few things that kept the vultures at bay.

Still the admission that Sverre had been jealous of all things felt… strange. Though Fane could not say that it didn’t make sense. In fact, it made perfect sense. These were things that Fane had already thought about. Things that he had been thinking about in some capacity since the first night that they kissed in that bathroom stall.

He’s been about to speak, to try to reassure Sverre, but his duke was ever the surprise. One that had nuzzled closer and closer while speaking to him like it would be possible to vibrate beyond physical touch and become one being if they simply pressed together enough. It was appreciated in this moment, when his heart felt like it was moments away from failing him and his breaths didn’t seem to make their way up to his head, leaving him feeling frantic and faint.

Really, not a combination he would recommend.

Running his tongue over his too dry lips, he finally found something he could croak out to the other man. “If it is any consolation, the idea of being a father is terrifying to me. If the family tree is anything to go by then I am destined to be a bit s**t at it.” Sverre had said he’d been making the understatement of the century, but Fane’s flat attempt at a joke about his own father might be attempting to make a run for it. Stefan Sr was about as welcoming as hugging a cactus. The idea that Fane could be anything like his father was… Well, horrifying. After a beat he brought his hands together, sandwiching Sverre’s hand between his. “It scares me. No, more than that. It might be one of my greatest fears.”

It wasn’t something that he had ever said aloud before. Who would he have told? Baron Winkletick? He could almost picture the gruff old man trying to grapple with the idea that the crown prince who was already making a sorry attempt at running the country to assist the Queen in his father’s absence was afraid of having heirs. The one, easy thing someone of status must do.

But there was something else he needed to say in this moment, something that he wasn’t sure how Sverre would take. While it had seemed he’d been dragged to the edge of the storm, they still weren’t in the clear yet. Any moment it could whip back up into a tempest to rival anything created by whatever god the Stili believed in. “I don’t want to lie to you.” His eyes looked haunted as he looked into Sverre’s. “I still have to marry her. It’s… I don’t know how to get out of it. I don’t know what to do to make everyone happy. Shahiti could raise Chronos to the ground if I don’t. And it keeps the councilman at bay.”

Oh Jesus. That was another problem he hadn’t even considered how to explain. His hands raised, pressing Sverre’s fingers into his forehead as he attempted to find the starting point. “They’re after Addie.”

That was not it.

Sucking in a deep breath, he lowered his hands and tried again. “Not, wait. Not like out to get her. Okay, maybe kind of depending on how you mean it. Some of the higher ranking ******** are trying to fight over her hand in marriage like she isn’t still a child under half their age. They’ve tried at Irene too, but my engagement to Violeta is keeping them at bay for now. I’ve been able to talk them down even when…” He swallowed. Hard. This was the part that made his own stomach roil. Worse than the nerves or anxiety of this moment. “Even when the queen considers allowing it.”

Fane was searching Sverre’s face for… Well, he didn’t know what. Horror? Disgust? Anger? It really could have been anything. There was so much that he had the right to feel against Fane at this moment. He’d not only just confirmed he still planned to go on with the marriage that had come between them. Worse, he realized there was something in his terrible confession he’d forgotten to say. Something kind of really ******** important.

“I have never once stopped loving you. I spent years looking for you when I could spare time away from the never ending piles of work. I never wanted you to leave. I still don’t.” Fane deflated against Sverre, his too thin frame seeming to show the weight of everything he’d placed on his own shoulders. “But I am just one man against a kingdom. I- I don’t know what to do.”

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Sverre's Room ♦ Sverre ♦ fit

Kumako Shock
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Beyond The Time
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Posted: Thu Jun 12, 2025 2:43 pm

Although there was a thick cloud of pain that surrounded the two of them, that his prince could see that his attempts to forget Sverre were a fool's errand brought the duke some form of comfort. At the very least, it confirmed that Fane had kept some semblance of sanity despite the rampant bullshit he'd been going through in private. All that suffering...Sverre was still wrapping his head around the sheer magnitude of it all. I guess that whole "no sex before marriage" thing is taken more seriously up there than I realized. It was a stupid joke. Sverre knew it was; what his prince had been going through stretched out far beyond the confines of his time with him. Would he...would he really be able to support his man like Fane needed? He didn't really know what all that was yet. But would he be enough?

What a silly thought. He was Sverre Falker. What couldn't he do?

Sverre brought the hand on Fane's cheek down to his prince's shoulder as he spoke on his concerns about being a father. Caressing it, he stayed silent and constant as Fane took both of his hands between the other Sverre's and grasped for dear life. It wasn't like his prince was going to hurt him with the force of it or anything; rather, it felt fragile. Like Fane's own hands could shatter at any moment. "Please, babe. If anything bad were to happen with that kid, it'd obviously be that shadow-huffing homewrecker's fault", mused the duke in hushed tones. While Sverre was certain that he would be considered the homewrecker in some respects, he couldn't be bothered to care much. Confirmation bias and fact were two different things.

For a moment, But Sverre could tell by the look on Fane's face that there was still more to be said. â€œI donâ€™t want to lie to you.â€ And with a start like that, it was definitely going to suck a** to hear. â€œI still have to marry her.â€ Yep. Sverre's caressing faltered at the utterance of those words. As Fane continued to speak on the matter, though, Sverre picked back up. It was clear enough that his prince had no intention of doing this to him. To either of them. It'd be really ******** weird if he did, considering he put Sverre's name before his sisters with that ink on his chest. If that wasn't true love, then what was? Sverre reminded himself of this as Fane looked ready to crumble to dust. But what did the councilmen want with him? Hadn't they been on Fane's side when they arrested dear old papa Calvino?

â€œTheyâ€™re after Addie.â€

"...Huh?"

With his other hand now up to Fane's forehead, he gently grazed his fingers against it while his mouth remained agape. A confused brow was raised, searching for answers from Fane's expression as his prince took a deep breath. Unfortunately, said expression did little to keep Sverre's heart rate from skyrocketing. What sort of trouble had that time-looping gremlin gotten herself into in his time away? Did Fane end up getting arrested like his dad in some long-forgotten timeline? In that short moment, a million concerns popped into Sverre's ever-racing thoughts. Thankfully, the silence didn't last for too long.

Fane began to clarify what he meant in standard Fane fashion: poorly. As Sverre went on the wild moped ride that was his lover's attempt at explaining Addie's situation and how it related to Fane's own, his face constantly shifted between shock, confusion, and anger. As Fane's voice trailed off, anger was what it finally settled on. As he could tell they were approaching the final hill ride down, Sverre brought his fingers into Fane's and squeezed to support them both.

â€œEven when the queen considers allowing it.â€

That b***h!

"That b***h!"

Sverre's form retreated immediately after he suddenly blurted that out. He looked away for a moment, unsure of how else to respond. Taking quick, cautionary glances at Fane at first, his prince caught Sverre's full attention with his next words. â€œI have never once stopped loving you.â€ As Fane continued to make Sverre's heart melt, the prince of time practically fell right into him. After shouldering a lifetime of torment all on his own, it was bound to happen sooner or later. It didn't take a genius to figure that out, so it only took Sverre about 0.00012 seconds, give or take. Wiggling his arm out of his prince's grip, Sverre brought both of his arms tightly around his ever-considerate lover.

"Well I'll tell you one thing, baby: you're not just one man against a kingdom anymore," he began, nuzzling his head against his prince once more. "And maybe, if we're lucky, we can be more than just two." Breaking off the hug for a moment, he placed both of his hands on Fane's shoulders to keep him steady as baby blue met baby blue. Sverre smiled with the kind of enthusiasm that was usually reserved for one of his ingenious life hacks. And this one might be his best plan yet.

"So during my time away, I met with a lot of local aristocracy, right? We partied, trashed property, etc. Anyhow, there was no small number of people who felt some sort of way about the lanky twig that was somehow able to bring down his father's empire seemingly overnight. Now I'd be lying if I said your approval rating was great, but there were some people who were quite intrigued to see how your era would go. I may have to apologize for getting into some...spats with them for it, but maybe things aren't as bleak as they seem."

It wasn't a lot, but hopefully it was a start. And if that didn't work, Sverre was determined to keep going until something did. That Fane was so fearful for his own circumstances was bad enough, but Rene's too? Ilydiot's? No, that just wouldn't do. A gentlemanly fire had been lit in Sverre's heart. If there was any way to help keep those close to him, the only people who he ever actually mattered to, safe, then he was going to figure it out. They were going to figure it out. So what if they had a horde of old ******** and the queen of time against them? What were they gonna do, throw their canes at them? As long as he and Fane were together, Sverre felt like the sky's the limit. Speaking of them being together, Sverre was finding himself awfully missing Fane's lips. And so he slowly, carefully, began to fix that.

"But also, my lovely prince...I don't think...I've heard enough of you loving me. Nor...am I done...vocalizing how much I love you," said Sverre between intermittent kisses. "I'm going to make sure I do that every ******** day from now on so that you never have to look too long to find me. Sound good to you?" Sverre knew he was hard to resist, but he'd only take things as far as Fane felt comfortable, given how completely broken down his prince was. Sverre was barely hanging on himself, and he had only been a listener for this tale. But he was Sverre Falker, so he'd at least give mending those broken pieces a go. If anyone could do it, it was him.

Location: Sverre's Room
Company: Fane
OOC: Outfit

Posted: Wed Aug 13, 2025 8:33 pm

Sverre’s incredibly honest outburst about Adelaide’s mother made him laugh. Not in the fun, shake your body belly aching way. But in the tired and still trying to make the most of it way. So really it was more of a wry chuckle. One that Fane desperately needed after how heavy all of this had become.

The brunet retreated however after his outburst and Fane found himself chasing after him, pressing such a short, chaste kiss to Sverre’s lips that even Chronesian Jesus would be proud. Just before Fane collapsed into him and enjoyed the way that Sverre snuggled against him.

Well, for the most part. He’d been enjoying the part where Sverre was saying he wasn’t alone. The part where he was pulled out of the very nice hug he definitely needed right not to be told that he wasn’t a popular ruler among the nobles? Well, yeah. Fane knew that. Having salt rubbed into the wound of it was kind of ******** rude to tack onto this entire conversation.

A small, bitter laugh was all he could offer in response for a moment in spite of Sverre’s attempt to spin the news into something far more positive than it felt like it should be. ”Unfortunately, I don’t think the things I want to do with the kingdom will help with that approval rating, babe.” His voice was thick with emotion. Now that everything was out in the open, it was hard to keep the stress of everything out of his voice. Out of his head.

Maybe it was something that Sverre could step up and help him shoulder. What would that ever feel like? For so long he had been doing everything on his own. The queen didn’t love the things that Fane wanted to spearhead. None of the councilmen that were left after the purge of his father and his lackeys were particularly fond of them either since it prevented them from lining their already fat pockets even more. Which meant it really had been just him.

The idea felt idyllic.

Just not as idyllic as the soft press of Sverre’s lips to the corner of his mouth. ”That sounds good to me.” His voice was a whisper on a breath, his eyes closing as his hands found Sverre’s cheeks to pull him into a deep kiss. One that was meant to show him just how much all of this meant to Fane. This was terrifying. Something that sunk down into his core and made him shake but that he couldn’t show anyone else how much it affected him.

Pulling back a little, he rubbed a tender line over Sverre’s cheek bone. ”This isn’t everything. There’s so much I still have to say about everything, but I think… If it’s okay with you - That’s all I have in me tonight.” He chased forward again, catching Sverre’s mouth with his own. ”I promise… I’ll tell you everything… with time. Or, maybe… show you.”

For now? He had an idea of what he wanted. Of how he longed to feel the connection with Sverre that he hadn’t gotten to have with anyone before now. Not even with him. ”For now, I think I would like to keep telling you how much I love you.” He offered the other man a boyish smile, something teasing glinting behind his eye. ”Though, I wouldn’t be opposed to you telling me how much you love me too.”

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