With a gentle hand on his back, Hale guided him to the middle of the bed, their eyes locked in quiet understanding. He undressed him slowly, with deliberate care each movement, reverent, and not rushed. When Kaelith lay back, fully exposed, his body relaxed into the sheets, his arousal prominent and unhidden. He didn't try to cover himself, though his chest rose and fell with quiet nerves.
To ease his discomfort, Hale quietly removed his clothing. He stood bare before Kaelith though the prince had seen his body countless times in the cold light of the court when punishment was duty, not desire. But this was different. Here in the hush of the private chamber, his nakedness felt vulnerable.
Hale leaned in and pressed his lips to Kaelith's throat, kissing gently, then trailing down to his chest. When his mouth closed around one nipple, Kaelith let out a sharp groan of pleasure.
Hale pulled back just slightly, his lips curving into a small smile. "Your Highness," he whispered, keep your voice down. The guards are outside.
Kaelith only nodded, eyes closed, hands gripping the bedsheets.
Hale returned to Kaelith's chest, lips closing around his nipple once more. He sucked gently, tenderly, his tongue tracing slow circles with care he had never shown to anyone before. Every motion was deliberate less about pleasure alone, and more about making Kaelith feel safe, seen and worshipped.
As his mouth lingered, one hand slipped lower, wrapping around Kaelith's cock with the same quiet devotion. He began to stroke him slowly, carefully, eyes lifting to meet Kaelith's.
Then, without a word, his hand moved faster each stroke firmer, more deliberate, driven by rising need.
Kaelith moaned, the sound escaping before he could catch it. Hale leaned up quickly and kissed him again, muffling the sound with his lips. All the while, his hand kept a steady rhythm faster now, harder driving Kaelith closer to the edge.
The pleasure built with unbearable sweetness, and Kaelith's breath caught in his throat. Tears pricked at the corners of his eyes, not from pain, but from the overwhelming flood of sensation, of care, of being truly held in someone's hands.
In that moment, it was more than release he felt it was something sacred. Something that made him think this was the best moment he had ever felt in his life.
Kaelith's breath hitched, his hips lifting involuntarily. A low moan slipped past his lips before he could stop it.
Hale continued stroking him, unwavering, until Kaelith's body tensed beneath him. With a sharp, trembling cry, Kaelith came to his release powerful, his voice breaking with it.
But Hale didn't pull away. He held Kaelith through every pulse, his touch steady, his lips soft. And when it was over, Hale sucked out every release slowly, tenderly, each movement filled with an intimacy he had never allowed himself to show anyone else. It wasn't just lust; it was something gentler, deeper. Something meant only for Kaelith.
Kaelith lay breathless, watching him. His heart was still racing when Hale straightened and spoke gently.
Don't move, he murmured. Just watch me.
Hale stepped to the side of the bed, where Kaelith's bare chest and the soft rise of his nipple remained in view. He let one hand drift down to rub it slowly, teasing it with practiced fingers. The other hand wrapped around his cock, already hard from the sight of Kaelith undone.
He stroked himself with increasing urgency, gaze flicking between Kaelith's eyes and the place where his fingers toyed with that sensitive spot. His breath grew uneven, his movements rougher, deeper driven by the intensity building in his own body.
Finally, with a shuddering groan, Hale came his release spilling across Kaelith's chest, landing right over the same nipple he'd been playing with. The sound that tore from his throat was raw, satisfied, and real.
He leaned down afterward, chest still heaving, and pressed a soft kiss to Kaelith's forehead.
Kaelith blinked up at him, lips parted slightly. Stay, he said quietly. Spend the night here.
But Hale shook his head, his voice low but firm. Not tonight.
Still, he didn't leave right away. He helped Kaelith clean up, his movements gentle, unhurried. Then he sat beside him for a while, letting the silence settle between them warm, full, and calm.
After a moment, Hale looked down at him, brushing a strand of hair from Kaelith's cheek.
Do you feel good now? he asked, his voice quiet, almost tender.
Kaelith gave a small nod, a faint smile forming at the corners of his lips. "Thank you," he whispered.
Hale leaned in and placed one last kiss on Kaelith's forehead soft, lingering. Then he stood, gathered his clothes, and turned toward the door.
Just before stepping out, he looked back.
"Goodnight, Your Highness."
And then he was gone, leaving Kaelith alone in the silence, still warm from the touch of someone who had handled him with care.
As Hale stepped out into the long, torch-lit corridor, the heavy door to Kaelith's chamber closed quietly behind him. The air outside was cool, but his chest still burned with heat.
He walked slowly, not because his duties demanded it, but because his heart had begun pace racing with thoughts, memories, and something dangerously close to joy.
"I've made the best choice of my life," he whispered under his breath.
But the words echoed louder in his mind than in the hall.
He had touched Kaelith not just his body, but something buried deeper, the part of him that was always quiet, always disciplined, always hiding.
And Kaelith had let him in.
Hale's thoughts swirled like smoke in the torchlight. The prince was the symbol of the realm, stone-faced, born for the throne, and sworn to law and lineage. But tonight he was just a man in need. A man who trembled. Who clung. Who moaned into his hands.
"I truly saw him."
"Did Kaelith know the danger of what had just happened? He had not crossed the line but the line had become dangerously thin. He hadn't betrayed the crown, but he'd touched something sacred. If any man had seen the way Kaelith looked, there would be no explaining it away."
He would bear the consequence.
Prince Kaelith lay still for a long time after Hale had gone, the silence in the chamber louder than any cry he had tried to muffle. His body was relaxed, but his mind was chaos.
He rose eventually, the silk sheets falling from his bare chest. The warmth on his skin felt unfamiliar not just from Hale's hands, but from something deeper aliveness.
He walked to the carved wooden desk in the corner of the room, where documents, ledgers, and royal decrees lay stacked neatly. He reached beneath them, pulling out the bound scrolls of his Crown Prince's Oath signed, sealed, and sworn before the court.
Kaelith unrolled the parchment slowly.
Kaelith stood over the ancient scroll where his vow was inked in crimson wax. His fingers traced the line that had haunted him ever since he first recited it in front of the entire court.
"You shall never be laid before any man in desire."
He remembered the chill of that day, how the gold of the ceremonial robe clung to his shoulders, how his voice barely trembled as he made the promise that would bind him to the throne. The words had not seemed heavy then.
But now…
Now those same words felt like chains.
He had not broken the vow fully. There had been no taking, no surrender, no act that the law would call union. But the desire, the ache, the hunger, the longing that was already a betrayal in its own right.
They said it was forbidden, Kaelith murmured, but no one told me what would happen if it simply happened.
He paced his chamber, hands locked behind his back, Does this count as treason if I didn't ask for it? If it came in the form of comfort or care.
He had not lain beneath Hale.
But he had yearned for him.
And that, perhaps, was worse.
His voice was small in the chamber and fear bloomed in him like a shadow growing with the moon. His hands began to tremble. His crown felt farther away than ever.
He thought of Lysandra, her title, her presence in court. Of their engagement, forged in politics and sealed in expectation.
"Being Crown Prince is terrifying."
He looked toward the mirror across the chamber and didn't see a prince. He saw a boy, unsure. A man caught between his bloodline and his heart.
How I wish, he whispered, I were just an ordinary man.
Someone who could touch and be touched without consequence. Someone who could breathe without the weight of the realm pressed into his chest.
Then a knock. Three times, firm, final.
Kaelith turned sharply, his breath caught.
A voice from the other side
Your Highness. His Majesty summons you to the palace. Immediately.
Kaelith's blood ran cold.
He stood frozen, eyes locked on the oath still unfurled across his desk.
Something inside him whispered
This is where the consequence begins.