Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Ricardo hated this.

The banquet hall is huge, and it’s been decorated to the nines. People are smiling, chattering, laughing. It's a brightly lit room, Ricardo can see everyone from where he’s standing- the second floor, overlooking the entire hall.

People keep trying to come talk to him, congratulate him. He smiles in return, saying nothing. 

He's used to this. People trying to get his attention. He's used to that. His brother is shining underneath the light of the chandelier, he's used to that, too. 

His brother is not looking at him. His brother has someone else in his eyes right now, surrounded by people who are cheering for him and someone else.

He is not used to that.

Schweichen twirls his future spouse on the dance floor. Ricardo thinks of how his brother taught him how to dance in this same hall. They'd laughed, Ricardo had stepped on his toes more times than he'd successfully completed a routine.

He chuckles to himself at the memory.

Ricardo feels alone, he feels pathetic. 

Like a desperate, injured animal who was once rescued by a passing stranger. Ricardo is now all better, but still clinging onto its rescuer, trying to make the man stay. Pretending to be weak, pitiful, so he can stay close to the rescuer. A rescuer who hasn't thought of it as anything but a passing, defenseless creature. Not anyone special. He’s probably rescued countless ones on his journey. The kind you save because your heart is kind, and you can’t have someone die around you. Ricardo isn’t special, has never been. 

He is one of many, because the rescuer is kind, gentle and morally upright, and there's hundreds of lives he has saved. What is one singular life to him? How significant can a single life be, when thousands bow to him in gratitude?

There's nothing more there, this animal considers this human as its saviour, to the human, it is nothing more than a passing stray.

Ricardo feels like that pathetic, desperate animal. Everyone looks at his hyung, because his hyung has helped all of them, rescued countless.

His own feelings are not unique. If they aren't unique, would the receiver care? 

Ricardo wouldn't. 

He knows what he is in his brother's eyes.

The person in Schweichen’s arm smiles. Ricardo grits his teeth, alcohol tasting sweet when compared to the bitterness that coats the back of his throat.

He is the only miserable one in this ballroom. Everyone around him is in high spirits because of the engagement. 

His brother's engagement. 

Of course they would be. The pair is well matched. Schweichen, the crown prince, set to marry the heir of a neighbouring kingdom. A union that'll increase the royal family's power, reach and their territory.

Ricardo’s heard everything. That it's wonderful. It's a blessing. Insignificant insects that keep crowding him to applaud the union, hoping they make an impression. Coming to Ricardo to say that, as if he fucking cared how wonderful the marriage was. As if he’d be happy about it.

He wasn’t. There was nothing in the world he’d loathed more, since the second he’d heard of it.

Schweichen got a lot of proposals. He was, after all, perfect. This wasn’t just Ricardo talking, this was the simple truth of the world. He had no affairs, he was next in line, he was strong, powerful, and beautiful enough that all of his transgressions would’ve been forgiven. 

Not that there were any.

Thus, Ricardo hadn’t paid any mind to this one. He expected it to be tossed away, like the countless before it.

Instead, Schweichen had picked it up to examine it. Tore it open. Ricardo remembers his smile dropping when he picked it up and read it.

Ricardo thought his hyung would be upset. Ricardo wanted his hyung to be upset, so he'd swoop in, suggest alternatives. He'd make a plan to annex the territory with the least amount of casualties. Ricardo would oversee it. Ricardo would destroy them for even suggesting it.

But his hyung? He looked at the proposal, the proposal that had made Ricardo’s blood boil, and said, “accept it.”

Ricardo’s world had gone silent. There was nothing left, except Schweichen, that letter, and the attendant approaching it to write a reply back.

His mouth had moved before his brain could process what had been happening.

“You don't have to do this,” he'd tried to say. 

Schweichen had sighed. A sigh that usually meant that this conversation had ended, and his mind couldn't be changed.

Ricardo, being the overstepping brother he was, had pushed the boundaries of what he’d been allowed to do. He'd listen to his hyung about anything, but not this, this was-

“But hyung,” He'd said, “There are better ways to go about this—”

“Ricardo,” Schweichen had replied, eyes cold, colder than Ricardo remembers them being, his tone said he did not want to discuss this further. “My decision is final.”

Ricardo hadn't been brave enough to ask again. He knew himself well, he was an inferior, disposable prince, only alive because his hyung loved him too much.

But things not been going well between the two of them. They’d barely talk, Schweichen seemed to have been avoiding him.

Today was the closest he'd been to him in weeks. Ricardo felt his heart would jump out of his throat every time he looked at his hyung. He’d hoped they could take a walk after this, just like when they were kids.

Instead, he’d have to witness his brother deciding his marriage to someone else.

Someone who was not Ricardo.

As if the world seemed to have noticed how improper he was being, they’d slapped him across the face. It was like a reminder. He was the only obsessive one in this relationship. To his hyung, he was nothing more than a brother to take care of.

Schweichen and their soon-to-be spouse ended their dance. Ricardo would no doubt be called to congratulate them. Or worse, make a toast. He’d rather die. So, before that could happen, he turned to leave, at his wits end.

He could no longer maintain this stupid farce. Farce of being a happy brother, happy that his family and his kingdom was going to get stronger, better. 

Ricardo didn't care.

“Ricardo,” someone said as soon as he’d turned to leave. 

He had to take a moment to slip back into his mask. It was not as easy as it was for his hyung, who seemed to be able to switch it on and off in seconds. 

He turned around. He wanted to sigh after seeing who it was, but he managed to maintain his poker-face. “It's you, Hubert.”

This guy was one of those irritating pests that kept hovering around him. He and his father had been bugging Ricardo for months to consider a “union”, a better word for a political marriage. 

Ricardo found it repulsive for more reasons than one. First, he was his hyung’s property. Second, they had neither the power or the money to even have the second prince in their family.

Ricardo felt for him what one would towards a buzzing insect. Not to mention how Ricardo felt sick at the thought of staying away from his hyung.

“Prince Schweichen looks wonderful with his lover, don't you think?”

Ricardo’s mask slipped. “They're not lovers.”

The man smirked. Ricardo was reminded why he had once contemplated killing this man. “They will be soon. Look how happy they seem to be together, it’s only a matter of time.”

Ricardo did not turn to look. “Oh, I'm sure.” He said, trying to end this pointless chatter and go back to his room.

The man in front of him did not get the hint. “I wonder, will he send you to govern the new territory after they get married?”

Now that.

That made Ricardo pause. 

Schweichen would… send him away?

Ricardo’s brain was on overdrive. Strategic as he was, he’d already judged the pros and cons of Schweichen sending him away, as a new ruler.

It made sense. It made too much sense.

It felt like all the blood in his body rushed to his head, and his eyes felt heavy, throat starting to burn once more.

It was perhaps the most logical thing this man had ever said to him.

It tracked. His brother had been distant these past few months. His brother had accepted a proposal when he'd rejected every single one before this. 

Maybe the man in front of him was right. Maybe they were lovers already. Maybe they’d already been exchanging, and why Schweichen and him had grown apart.

Ricardo’s life revolved around his brother's. But Schweichen? He was a crown prince. He had the weight of the kingdom on his shoulders. The little time Ricardo spent with him probably meant nothing to him.

But Ricardo had hoped he'd have been more. He'd hoped for more. He'd hoped he was special. 

Turns out, he wasn't.

It was during this pause when he felt a touch on his lower back. Feather-like, yet chilling. Grounding. Ricardo felt that spot heat up, felt his entire body get goosebumps. 

His brain was filled with, ‘it's him, it's him, it's him’. There was only one person who could make him feel this way, affect him so. Without turning around, he knew who it was.

“Hubert, I hope you're enjoying yourself.” Came his hyung's voice. He sounded off. Ricardo didn't have it in him to understand why.

Ricardo for the first time ever, moved away from his hyung’s touch. It physically pained him to do so. Ripping his skin from his flesh would've surely felt less painful. 

But now, today, surrounded by everyone’s happiness except his and his brother, the Prince, future king, set off to be married? He did not have it in him to turn to the man he loved, yet hated in this moment. Because then his brother would see his expression. He’d know something was wrong, and in that gentle voice, he'd ask what had happened. Ricardo would fold, and tell him everything. Schweichen, like he always did, would concede to make him happy.

Or would he? The Prince was going to get married. He'd have a family. He'd be happy without Ricardo. Would he still treat him the same way?

The thought of that hurt more. Would Schweichen stop caring about him soon? 

But what of him? Of Ricardo?

Ricardo would once again be left alone, pathetic and desperate, the same abandoned injured animal Schweichen took under his wing years ago. Nothing more.

Never anything more.

A better man would've been happy for the person they loved. A kinder man would've smiled at his beloved’s happiness. 

But Ricardo wasn't gentle, understanding or kind. He was selfish, jealous and angry.

“I'm tired. I'll retire to my rooms. Prince, Hubert, excuse me. Enjoy the celebrations.” He bowed at Schweichen without looking back at him.

It was rude, abrupt. Unbecoming of a prince. No doubt his teachers would lecture him. Perhaps his brother too.

Perhaps not. Who’d care about an unwanted prince after they’d get their own family.

In his panic, Ricardo missed how Hubert had started to talk about marriage again, before Schweichen had interrupted. 

In his panic, Ricardo missed the way his hyung, gentle and kind, looked at the man proposing marriage to his younger brother.

In his panic, Ricardo missed how with one look at his brother, Hubert had scurried away.

· · ─ ·✶· ─ · ·

Ricardo was always the least likely to be the next ruler of the kingdom. He had multiple brothers before him, all with special talents and abilities. 

His birth wasn’t planned. His father was old after years of being a ruler, only wanting to relax and be with his mother or his lovers. His mother had never been affectionate, always prioritising being a Queen. His brothers were trying their hardest to be the next king.

Ricardo understood he was unwanted very young. He'd see kids with their families, cherished and loved. He'd see kids being pampered even after they threw tantrums. He'd see kids being loved unconditionally.

Ricardo had no one who treated him like that. Ricardo had accepted that truth. It hurt, his heart pricked, but that was how it was.

Then one day, Schweichen visited.

That day is still etched into Ricardo’s memory. He remembers how the prince, his hyung, had reached out his hand. He’d waited for Ricardo, then  took his hand, bringing him over to his side of the palace. Promised to protect him. 

From that day on, his hyung would personally oversee his studies, visit him daily. Slowly, Ricardo found someone who he could throw tantrums around. Ricardo found someone he could love without fear.

To an unwanted child, Schweichen was a saviour. To a young Ricardo, his hyung was his god.

But Gods don't have a single mortal to worry over. 

Ricardo was spoiled, but Schweichen couldn't stay with him all day. He had responsibilities. He had friends, acquaintances, comrades, teachers, relatives. The whole world seemed to love Schweichen. And Ricardo understood why.

But Ricardo loved him too. More than the whole world could. He loved his hyung, not Prince Schweichen, perfect and noble, he loved his hyung who messed up while writing petitions and wasted far too much paper, he loved the person who'd cuddle him until he fell asleep because he knew Ricardo hated the dark.

Ricardo loved him. But he wasn't the only one who did.

What could a child offer to a God?

Thus, Ricardo behaved. He wanted to scream, cry and beg for Schweichen to not leave, to ignore everyone who wasn't him, wasn't Ricardo. But Ricardo knew what being unwanted felt like. He didn't want his hyung to get tired of him. So he behaved.

And look where that had gotten him. Ricardo punched his bed frame in anger. A horrible pain shot up his arm. It felt less painful than his heart.

Look where being well behaved had gotten him. 

He'd been abandoned at the end anyway.

He couldn't help but laugh at how stupid he'd been.

Schweichen wasn't just his hyung. He was the crown prince. He was going to be a king.

Everyone wanted to satisfy a God. Everyone behaved, everyone pretended to be a better person than they were in front of one, every devotee spared no effort in impressing one. 

How could Ricardo ever assume that he'd be different?

He felt the world was closing in on him at the moment. Sinking to the floor, he tried to hold onto the pendant hanging by his neck, hoping it would choke him to death. This was the first present by his brother to him.

Ricardo teared up. His hyung. Kind and gentle to everyone. Even the unwanted child who'd someday challenge his throne.

He wondered where it had all gone wrong. Had his hyung become wary of him? Had Ricardo done something to make him hate him? Ricardo would rather present his own beating heart to his hyung than betray him. 

He lifted his head. Maybe he could do so, dig out his heart—

Before Ricardo could do more harm to himself or his room, he heard footsteps.

A decade-long obsession meant that he knew who it was by their footsteps. He felt his stupid heartbeat pick up at his hyung coming to coax him, reassure him, maybe-

But then he remembered. The marriage. 

He scrambled to get up and then dove inside the covers, closed his eyes, pretended to sleep. 

He wanted to be angry, but he loved him so much. Too much. It would've been easier to die than hate Schweichen. He kept his eyes closed, even though he knew his brother never entered without knocking.

Uncharacteristically, his brother entered without even knocking. Ricardo tensed up, not expecting that.

He wondered if he'd come to kill him. 

Ricardo wouldn't mind.

Instead of the stab to the heart, he felt his bed sink, and someone grabbed his wrist, yanking him towards them. He couldn't help it, he yelped.

“Pri-”

The grip on his wrist tightened. “Hyung.” The man corrected. Ricardo noticed that he sounded different. Cold. Agitated? But that didn't make sense. He was so happy before. He looked happy with them. His future spouse. Had Ricardo ruined his mood?

“...hyung.” 

Schweichen’s arm slipped down to Ricardo’s waist, lifting him like he weighed nothing. Then Schweichen laid down, bringing Ricardo down with him. His arms then came up to grip his waist. Like this, Ricardo felt his chest rise and fall. He felt every muscle of his. His face heated up. 

This was an extremely embarrassing position, but at least it was dark.

“You were extremely rude just now.”

Right. Ricardo felt the fluttering of his heart die down. Why else would he be here? For a moment, Ricardo had thought differently.

“I'm sorry,” he said, trying to inch away. 

Schweichen increased the strength of his grip, thigh coming on top of Ricardo’s body to lock him in place, as one of Schweichen’s hands went to Ricardo’s neck to lift his head up, so they were face to face. “Do not ignore your brother, Ricardo.”

“I'm sorry, hyung. I was tired.”

“Did I ever teach you to use that as an excuse?”

“...No.” He said, diverting his eyes. Schweichen’s eyes were weird today. 

His grip on Ricardo’s neck tightened, warning him to not look away. No lamp was lit, so it was dark. There was no way Ricardo could see him, but he felt his gaze on him. Dark. Darker than the night that surrounded them.

It was only the two of them. Hyung's eyes were full of him, only him.

Ricardo felt heat pool near his cock. 

He prayed for his hyung to not notice. His love. His affections. Creepy and disgusting. 

“Where did you learn that excuse from? From the man who approached you for his daughter's hand?” Schweichen seemed like he was getting angrier by the minute, words turning into a growl by the end.

Ricardo shook at the guilt of affecting him so much.

His hyung hitched him up again, this time, their erections touched through their clothes and Ricardo nearly moaned out loud. Schweichen was still in his engagement clothes but Ricardo had changed into his sleeping clothes. Unlike his hyung, he just had just one layer on, arousal far too obvious to be hidden Schweichen’s cock was barely felt through his clothes, but Ricardo’s erection was far too apparent. Whenever Ricardo tried to maneuver his body so his cock was facing away from Schweichen, Schweichen would bring him back so they were as close as possible. Ricardo would throw a fit if his brain wasn’t overwhelmed with how much he felt of Schweichen right now. The strength of his arms, the strength of his legs, the outline of his cock pressing up against his thigh.

As if tired of him moving around, Schweichen jerked up and grinded his hips exactly where Ricardo’s erection was, as if trying to get Ricardo to moan out loud, or worse, to cum in his pants like a teenage boy. Ricardo immediately quieted down. “Or the woman who approached you to suggest you take in a lover? Because your beauty was wasted otherwise? Perhaps it was the man who talked about marriage. Ricardo, is this why you've been absent from my office for so long? Entertaining thoughts of companionship? Of throwing your hyung aside?”

In his daze, trying not to embarrass himself, because his hyung was just trying to be affectionate, caring, and that's why he was angry. And here he was, a pervert, in love with his brother, getting off of it, Ricardo did not question how he knew who had come to meet him and what they'd talked about, because it had not happened with Schweichen in the vicinity.

Somehow, no one tried to suggest anything related to romance when Schweichen was around.

He had started trembling, in arousal, his self imposed restraints all failed him, because of how much he had to hold back. “I'm sorry hyung,” he said, still trying to adjust so his cock wasn't touching his hyung’s through their clothes. 

Schweichen put his hand on his lower back, just like he had in the banquet hall, and pushed him down, and Ricardo had to bite his lip to muffle the groan that almost escaped.

“Sorry won't cut it. You've disappointed me.”

The world seemed to have stopped. Ricardo's mind blanked, one word filling his consciousness: Disappointment.

His eyes filled with tears immediately. He forgot all about his own emotions, his hatred, his anger, his arousal. As if on autopilot, and he felt his need to make his hyung be less upset overshadow all other emotions. 

“Sorry,” he said. Schweichen looked away from him. Why was he no longer looking at him? Ricardo pained. Like a kitten licking your hand in apology after scratching you, he approached Schweichen’s face. Shyly, with love he hid in his heart, he kissed his cheek.

His hyung always softened when he did this. No matter how badly he messed up. 

He was cute that way, always allowing Ricardo to overstep.

“Hyung, hyung…” he said, indulging himself once more, pecking his cheek lightly again, indulging now because his hyung would probably stop holding him like this soon, “I promise, I rejected all of them, I hate all of them, you know this.”

Schweichens’s anger was not fully placated, because Ricardo could feel how tense his muscles still were. But he was probably satisfied with Ricardo’s reply, because he looked back.

He lowered his head to rest between the juncture of Ricardo’s neck and shoulder, pressing a soft kiss there.

Schweichen wished for Ricardo to be obedient, that Ricardo knew. He was always happy to indulge his beloved.

Schweichen turned them both around so he was hugging him sideways now. “Sleep, unless you plan on leaving me and casting me aside again?”

In a low, petulant voice, Ricardo retorted, “I didn't do that…”

A squeeze from Schweichen shut him up quickly. Regardless of his anger, hatred, obsession, love, he slept with a smile on his face, in the arms of the only person he cared about.

Tomorrow, things will be different. But Ricardo could enjoy this, now.

· · ─ ·✶· ─ · ·

When Ricardo woke up, Schweichen was gone. 

But hope had been rekindled in his heart. If his hyung could leave his own engagement banquet to come to him, maybe hope wasn't lost. Maybe he could change things around, still. He could break their engagement. They weren't married yet.

Ricardo started plotting.

It all had to be inside his room, it was too dangerous to do it outside. People could see. He'd be implicated, or worse, his brother would be in trouble.

That wouldn't do.

Ricardo was the kind to only think of his goal when concentrating. So when in the afternoon his brother summoned him for their usual tea, he told the attendant to inform his brother that he'd be skipping it today.

He felt his heart hurt at not seeing his hyung, but it served his brother right. He'd skipped yesterday's tea for his engagement banquet. This was Ricardo’s revenge.

But soon, he wouldn't have to skip any of their meetings. They'd go back to how it was— Ricardo and Schweichen. How it was meant to be. How it always should be.

One day probably didn't matter much. Schweichen would sometimes skip them when he was busy too. Difference being Ricardo would go to him, pastries in hand, and feed him while Schweichen worked.

Ricardo failed to notice that this was the first time he'd rejected meeting Schweichen. The second time he’d rejected him in under a day.

But it would probably be the last.

But it was not the last. As if turned out, planning the downfall of a kingdom who’d dared to take your brother away from you took time.

By the time Ricardo was done, it had been a week since he last saw Schweichen. 

He missed him, so dearly. The only thing kept him going was how he'd never have to be away from him again. Never again would he have to see him in someone else's arms. Never again would anyone tell him how his hyung would send him away.

As he readied himself, he noticed how everyone around him seemed a bit strange. They were jittery. Jumpy, as if scared.

“Is something wrong?” He asked his attendant, while his attendant was brushing his hair. 

She squeaked. Ricardo stared.

“Ah, no, no, it's nothing, my prince,” said the girl, “Are you going to see prince Schweichen?”

There was desperation in her tone. She was on edge. Ricardo didn't understand why.

He found that didn't really care either. 

He felt happy after weeks. He smiled at her. “Yes, I am. I have news to share with him.”

News that would stop their separation. How would Schweichen react? Would he be happy? Proud? Would he pat his head like he always did on a job well done? Would he grace Ricardo with one of his rare smiles? Would he be surprised?

A part of him wondered if he'd brush Ricardo off again. Before that thought could spread to take root in his heart, Ricardo quashed it. That night, his hyung had come to him, he'd held him close. That meant something.

It had to. 

Ricardo couldn't wait to tell him. But before he could finish getting ready, he felt Schweichen approach his door.

Ricardo waited with bated breath to listen to his hyung. “Remember what I told you yesterday?” He seemed to ask his attendant. He was also on edge. Had something happened? Why wasn't he asking for Ricardo? Why was he upset? Schweichen was rarely mad at him. Ricardo’s stomach twisted.

Before he could spiral further, he heard a mild argument outside, and Schweichen had opened the door of his room.

He looked beautiful. He always looked so beautiful, like someone you couldn't help but look at for as long as you could. Ricardo had never seen someone better looking, never would.

He was so happy, he was overwhelmed with thoughts he usually kept suppressed. Like kissing. He so desperately wanted to kiss his hyung. He'd dreamed of it for years, ever since he knew what kissing meant.

Schweichen was wearing his sword fighting uniform. It was Ricardo’s second favourite outfit of his.

It felt like there was something off about him. He looked angry. His fists were clenched when he’d marched into his room. He was tense. He didn't look like himself, he looked like had his mask on. 

His hyung never had his mask on in front of him.

Behind him, his servants were arguing. Ricardo didn’t register their words, only noticing Schweichen’s behaviour. “Leave,” said Ricardo.

There were warning signs ringing loudly in Ricardo’s ears, deafening, “Hyung,” he said, ignoring it all, not caring if anyone saw, he walked up until he was in front of him. His hyung, his crown prince, his God, his king, his love.

“Hyung, I missed you.”

Schweichen's eyes stopped scanning his room to look down at Ricardo. Why had he looked at his room instead of him? 

“What were you doing?”

Cold. Furious. A silent rage threatening to bubble over. Everything was wrong. Had Schweichen not missed him? Did Schweichen ever miss him? But that wasn't a worry, Ricardo had all the time in the world to be as important to his hyung as his hyung was to him.

With this naive hope, he wrapped his arms around Schweichen’s lower waist, tilting his head up to look at him, trying to smile. 

Schweichen did not return the hug.

Ricardo stepped back. He felt it, throes of his insanity, instability brimming underneath his own skin. Warning bells got louder. His ears wouldn’t stop ringing.

“I have a surprise for you, I had to make sure it was perfect.”

He didn't wait for Schweichen to respond. He held his hand, intertwined their fingers, and dragged him towards his desk, where he'd drafted all his plans.

Regardless of his anger, Schweichen followed. Ricardo got to his desk, then turned to look towards the object of his affections with a smile. “A gift,” he said.

Schweichen didn't react. Ricardo kept smiling. As the time passed, his cheeks felt tight, Painful. The smile felt fake.

Ricardo had expected a lot. Ricardo knew he'd get nothing. But he thought he'd get something. Perhaps a “this won't work.” Or, “Ricardo, this is not good.” Something. Anything.

But Schweichen stayed silent.

Finally, he spoke, his voice raspy, as if he was holding something back. “Is this why you shut yourself up in your room for days?”

There was something extremely wrong. Ricardo kept smiling. His throat felt like acid.

“Yes, now you don't have to marry-”

Schweichen jerked his hand away from Ricardo. “Ricardo Von Kaizanex!” yelled Schweichen.

Schweichen had never yelled at him. Ricardo blinked, eyes burning. “Hyung?”

When his hyung finally looked at him, his eyes were blazing. Ricardo felt the world sink in. “What's the meaning of this?”

The usually eloquent and composed Ricardo felt like anything but calm and collected in the moment, under the gaze of his hyung, “The marriage— We can— You don't have to marry them— Hyung—”

Schweichen interrupted him again. He pointed at one part of his plan, volume rising with each step,“Enough with the marriage talk, Ricardo! Do you hear yourself? Do you know what kind of gamble you're undertaking?” 

Ricardo knew. Ricardo had spent hours on this plan, perfecting it. He’d made himself disposable. So was everyone else involved. He knew he probably couldn't come back in one piece. But it would be okay, his brother would no longer be forced to marry anyone. His plan was brilliant because Ricardo had disregarded his own well being. Because it didn't matter. He did not matter. Someday, his brother would marry someone he loved. 

Ricardo knew that it could never be him. Better he died before it ever happened. Died to set his hyung free.

The silence stretched. Schweichen seemed to get angrier, the fury earlier contained within him coming off in waves. “Did I tell you to do this? Who did you do this for, Ricardo? Me? Or yourself ? Do you want the territory for yourself?”

Ricardo’s heart broke at the accusation. He immediately looked up, shrinking back at the sheer volume of anger that radiated from his brother now. Still, he tried to keep looking at him, “No, hyung, never, how could you say that?” I did it for you—” he tried to hold his hand again, but Schweichen smacked it away.

It didn't hurt. It didn't sting at all. Ricardo felt like his heart had been stabbed.

Ricardo felt his eyes burning. His love, his affection crumbling. “I thought you wanted me to—”

Schweichen looked at him and in that gaze he seemed to direct the entirety of his fury towards him. Ricardo looked down. He could no longer handle his brother's anger. “Wanted you to die? Is this who I am in your eyes?”

Ricardo shook his head,“no, but the likelihood of that happening is low.”

“Should be zero! Enough. This plan will never take place. That's final.”

Ricardo didn't reply. Suddenly, he heard footsteps, the footsteps he knew by sound, and his chin was grabbed. 

Schweichen lifted his head up so they were looking into each other's eyes. He looked like he was searching for something. Ricardo was too heartbroken to notice, he looked away; he didn't want to see how pathetic he looked. “That day, at night, I thought you..”

He stopped. What could he say? I thought you wanted me to save you. I thought you'd care about me more than your marriage. Did you fall in love with that person in a few months? Why? When you couldn't with me for years?

“You thought wrong.”

But Ricardo was nothing but stubborn. “But, the marriage, the—”

Schweichen lifted his head up so they were looking at each other again. “Let me handle my own affairs, Ricardo.”

Ricardo felt his soul dissipate. 

Mortals cannot interfere in the affairs of Gods, his brother had taught him. He'd forgotten. Why had he forgotten?

When Ricardo didn't respond, Schweichen sighed, dropped his face and left his room.

The same footsteps he knew by heart, leaving his room. 

Ricardo sank down to the floor. His door closed as Schweichen left. He felt suffocated, and he yanked away his collar he'd put on to look pretty for his hyung. Blood coated his nails, followed by a prickling sensation on his neck.

So he’d hurt himself.

He didn't care.

His attendants tried to get him to stand up and rest on his bed. 

He asked them to leave.

When they didn't, he yelled.

No invitation from tea came from his brother.

When he was called for dinner, he skipped.

The next morning, when his attendant came to find him, she found him on the same spot, laying down, blood on his neck dried up, his wounds scabbed over. 

Ricardo sat at the same place his hyung had left him. Looking at nothing. Specks of blood covering his white collar.

His attendant had screamed, probably. Caused a ruckus, alerting the entire castle, no doubt.

His hyung still didn't come to meet him.

He was called for lunch. 

Declined.

He was called for tea.

Declined.

Someone came to meet him.

No answer.

He was called for dinner.

Decl-

The last thing Ricardo remembered doing before fainting was saying he wasn't hungry, before he simply blanked.

In his sleep, no doubt dreaming, he felt someone hold him. This person gently laid his head on their lap, and it reminded me of when he and his hyung were younger. 

Younger, naive and carefree. Back when they'd sit in the gardens, Ricardo's head in the other prince’s lap, and talk about everything and nothing.

It was one of Ricardo’s most precious memories. Now, it has been tainted. Tainted by his brother's rejection. Everything in his life felt tainted in the same way, as a splatter of red paint now covered the pages of his life.

He tried to move away. The person held onto him tighter. Angry, he continued to struggle, and the person let him go. Not for lack of strength, but as if they were afraid to hurt him. 

He quieted down for a moment, just a moment. He’d only let his guard down for a moment, before he was grabbed once again, except his entire body was embraced this time. 

The person was hugging him with enough force to squeeze him to death. They were shaking, trembles rocking their body, as of waves hitting the shore, as if Ricardo rejecting their affection has caused them a great deal of pain.

It reminded Ricardo of himself, how he'd been after his hyung had left his room that day. 

How many days had it been? Had Ricardo died? He hoped so.

Ricardo felt like they were just as desperate to keep him around as Ricardo was to keep his hyung around. 

Ricardo didn't know of anyone like that.

The shaking stopped, and he felt wetness on his cheeks.

This person seemed to be very sad. Uncharacteristically, Ricardo’s own heart broke. He usually couldn't care if people lived or died. He only cared about one person. Except now. He wanted to wipe this person’s tears away. Was it camaraderie? Empathy? He didn’t know.

After what felt like hours, the person stopped shaking. He felt a pinch, and then nothing, except someone holding onto him. Grounding him. He didn't feel lonely in this blank space anymore.

It felt a lot like when hyung had found him.

Ricardo blanked again. He woke to short bursts of wetness all over his face. 

Kissing…?

Was someone kissing him?

Ricardo started struggling him in tandem this time. Only his hyung could kiss him. He was saving his first kiss for his hyung!

The man tightened his hold again, this time, kissing Ricardo directly on the lips, as if angry at his resistance. He was so much stronger, before Ricardo could free himself, he'd already pushed his tongue deep inside Ricardo’s mouth.

The man kissed like he was a lover finally finding their beloved. Overly familiar, enthusiastic and passionate, hands trailing all over Ricardo as he held his chin in place. 

It reminded him of Schweichen, who seemed to love to hold his chin.

For a moment, Ricardo's vision came back. It was night time. Who was this man? Wasn't this a dream?

Ricardo started struggling. The man was a brute! Ricardo hated how he'd felt empathetic towards this man moments ago. He tried to bite his tongue to break free, but the man still didn't stop, if anything, he just became more rough. He kissed less and licked Ricardo’s lips more. Nibbling on Ricardo’s lips as punishment. As a warning.

As heartbroken and betrayed as he was, Ricardo still found himself calling out for the only person who could protect him. The only person who ever had. “Hyung- hyung- help-”

The man paused. Maybe he knew Ricardo’s brother was The Crown Prince, known for his swordsmanship and his sense of justice. He'd cut him down.

Noticing his retreat, Ricardo tried to break free from his grasp, but the man smashed their lips together again, this time, alternating between kissing him and biting him, as if angered.

The man pried Ricardo’s mouth open just so he could entangle their tongues together. 

Ricardo tried to raise a hand, so the man pushed it down, and for a moment, a very real sensation of pain shot up his arm.

Ricardo felt like he didn't know what was real anymore.

His hands restrained, the man's hands left his chin to trail down his spine, as if trying to etch the curve of his skin around his spine to memory. Ricardo couldn't help but arc his back to escape from the touch, only to end up pushing his chest onto the man's.

It felt so familiar. It was so big, tense, and-

Before his brain could connect the dots, the man's hand slipped under his pants.

That is when he started thrashing around. He tried opening his mouth to scream, “hyung- hyung-”

The man abandoned his body to grip his neck, shutting him up with a kiss. It felt gentle. As if the man was placating him. Calming him down.

The man's soft kisses reminded Ricardo of his hyung. 

His hyung, his beloved, his untouchable prince, his cruel god. 

He wouldn't be able to give him freedom, or his first kiss.

Ricardo had been saving himself. He knew his hyung harbored no romantic thoughts about him, he knew something was wrong with him to feel that way towards his brother, to steal his clothes, sniff them and pant his name as he came into his hands, fantasizing about how it would feel if it was his hyung holding him down. Fucking him. Claiming him.

Ricardo knew, he knew Schweichen wanted none of it. He only looked at Ricardo with the gentleness and love expected from an older brother. It was Ricardo, ill, and wrong. Wrong from birth, which is why he should've tried to do something good for his hyung. Die while doing it, because good people like Schweichen deserved freedom.

But he'd been rejected. Ricardo found himself crying. But he was dreaming. How could he cry?

The man stopped his assault to hold his face, his hands, full of calluses, lifting up his head, fingers coming up to wipe his tears with all the gentleness they were capable of. It reminded him of Schweichen.

God, how could Ricardo live without him?

How could Ricardo continue seeing him be gentle with another person?

He didn't want to. He didn't have to.

That's the last thought Ricardo remembered. That, and whispering a pathetic, “love… you…” before fainting.

The night fell. The fourth night since Prince Ricardo had fainted in his room. He'd yet to wake up.

There was a knock on the door. “Prince Schweichen—”

Schweichen held onto his lifeline longer. Had anyone come inside, they'd have seen how ravished Ricardo looked. Marks and bruisers littered across his neck, disappearing underneath the thin undershirt he had on. Connected the dots. Found the kind and gentle Schweichen’s secret. “Leave us.” 

· · ─ ·✶· ─ · ·

When Ricardo came to, he thought he saw his hyung.

It was the same scene as their childhood. The sky was clear, Ricardo could smell fresh cut grass. The sounds of their personal soldiers running drills filled his ears. Ricardo, in Schweichen’s lap, drifting in and out of sleep, and waking up to his hyung softly petting his hair, brushing through the strands. 

“Hyung!” he said, voice rough, trying to smile despite his inner turmoil. It hurt. Everything hurt.

“...Your highness, Schweichen had to attend to some matters and couldn't be here.”

Ricardo remembered, then. Similar to how he’d blink awake to a reality that he loathed from dreams of a happier life, back then. In a garden filled with sounds of an easier life, Schweichen and Ricardo in the middle

The fight. The rejection. 

The prince wouldn't come.

When Ricardo tried to go back to sleep, the attendant's shrill voice, full of panic, stopped him, “your highness, you mustn't, I've summoned the doctor, he'll have to look you over. You were asleep for five days—”

The doors opened, a flurry of doctors coming in, all chattering, the cacophony of their bags full of vials lulling Ricardo into sleep. Ricardo thought he saw a black robe move away from the doorframe, his hyung's favourite colour. 

But that couldn't be right.

· · ─ ·✶· ─ · ·

They said Ricardo had fainted from the stress and lack of food. He hadn't been eating for a while, and apparently two days of not eating and drinking had nearly sent him to deaths door.

Everyone had apparently been worried sick. Everyone, except his own family, because none had visited him.

Ricardo didn’t care. He only cared about one person.

But his pride wouldn't let him ask others if his hyung had visited.

He had so many questions. That man. That dream. His hyung.

But he felt fixated on that last thought, like he always had. 

Schweichen had been rejecting all his plans and suggestions to stop the marriage. Schweichen ignored him in favour of his spouse. Schweichen was mad enough at the proposition that his marriage should be stopped to ignore Ricardo for a day.

Ricardo decided to give up.

He wished he felt free. This was a predictable end. He always knew this story would come to this conclusion. He knew, he knew all too well how it would go— but he still wasn't prepared for how much it would affect him. That realization. This all encompassing despair.

He couldn't help spiralling more, thinking back to that man's words from the banquet. Since he couldn’t stop the marriage, would his hyung want to get rid of him next? Worse, what if their spouse recognised Ricardo as the danger he potentially could be to Schweichen’s rule?

Ricardo wanted to believe that Schweichen would never believe that. But a month ago, he'd thought Schweichen wouldn't accept a marriage proposal.

So really, how well did he even know him?

Ricardo thought of how he'd feel if Schweichen tried to kick him out.

He couldn't think. He couldn't even entertain that thought. He wouldn't be able to live through that.

But he'd have to live through it, because dying after that would implicate his brother.

What if he wasn't kicked out? Would Ricardo handle seeing his brother with someone else, loving them? Would Ricardo be able to love Schweichen's kids? Would he be able to see Schweichen be in love with someone else?

Instead of being kicked out, instead of years of torment, Ricardo chose another path forward.

The destiny that would cruelly rip apart his brother from him.

He'd leave first.

Underneath this decision, someone else brewed. An intemperate heat. That dream. Those hands. 

Seeing Schweichen for the last time. 

His hyung. His prince. His love. Hyung, hyung, hyung—

· · ─ ·✶· ─ · ·

In the royal courts, Schweichen and Ricardo were called opposites. The sun and the moon of the empire. It was a natural comparison because they were so different, one blonde and obsessed with white, another with dark hair and always seen in black. Schweichen a warrior, and Ricardo a strategist. Schweichen a perfect crown prince, gentle and calm, and Ricardo the perfect brother, ready to support Schweichen through it all. 

It was all said in good jest, of course! How could the courts dare to pass judgement about royal blood?

But what the courts knew, what the kingdom knew, what their allies knew, what anyone who'd met these two knew, was Ricardo’s “support” wasn't lending a helping hand. Ricardo wasn't just a supporter. He wasn’t just a convenient prince left behind.

Schweichen would cut you down. Schweichen would hunt you down until justice was served. He’d kill you in one clean swipe of his sword, no extra blood spilled.

Ricardo wasn't like that. 

Not because he was weak, but because Ricardo was insane.

Ricardo would enjoy laying in his brother's lap as he orchestrated your torturous death. Ricardo would let your worst enemies hunt you down. Ricardo would plan how your body would be disposed of. If he was angry enough, he'd plot your family's slow, excruciating descent into nothingness. Families would disappear into obscurity, all linked to the fourth prince. And when you were dead, Ricardo would make your death look like an accident, so his hyung wouldn't be sad.

When Ricardo had become an adult and Schweichen had allowed others to see him, there was a rumour that Ricardo was simply letting Schweichen be the crown prince. 

The rumor ceased to exist years ago. Mostly because everyone who spoke of it had somehow disappeared. No one's managed to find where they are so far.

The courts knew two things about Ricardo, mostly because that's all he'd let them know. No one spoke of it out loud, but it was a fact. 

First, Ricardo was powerful. Second, Ricardo loved his brother and everything he did was for his brother.

Thus, Ricardo found it very easy to find an aphrodisiac for his brother. He'd never hurt his brother. He'd never had any interest in anyone else. His lackeys happily handed over the thing to him. “Has someone finally caught our prince's eye?” winked the messenger.

Ricardo had only ever had one person in his eye for over a decade.

He'd have him. He'd have him no matter what.

Ricardo before he'd gone into coma would never even dream of committing such an awful act against his beloved. But that dream. That man. That rejection.

That man’s similarities to his hyung. Same strength, same body size. Would hyung feel the same when he’d hold him down? Would he be just as brutish? Perhaps gentler in comparison? 

It had woken up something in him. A monster. A worse monster than what he was before.

He wanted more from his hyung now. He wasn’t satisfied with what he was given, friendly pats and hugs. He wanted something no one else could have. It was cruel. It was far more cruel than what his hyung had ever done to him, but god, Ricardo wanted it so bad.

Ever since the thought had popped up in his head. It seemed like someone had lit a fire in his belly, because he was always hot, it was always burning, and whenever he’d so much as think of his brother, it would start rising. 

The only way to get rid of it seemed to be by cumming, but even that would barely satiate him.

Was he a worse pervert than before? To even think of such blasphemy, to betray his prince, to defile him?

Ricardo sat with the thought for days. He’d spend days thinking in silence, alone, with no invitations for tea, their relationship no doubt broken beyond repair, and would spend nights breathing his hyung’s scent from the clothes he’d asked one of his attendants to steal from him.

Then, he’d fantasize. He’d try to pretend the furious fingers that were inside of him right now weren’t his own, he’d pretend that his hyung was opening him up, getting him ready, so he’d fuck him, fuck him until the sun rose again, then stay with him till the morning. Next day, they’d go back to how they were, just two people, in their own world.

It usually ended with Ricardo catching his cum inside his fist, so as to not soil his brother’s clothes. It would usually end up with him feeling so guilty, so awful about what he’d done, that he’d contemplate if he should die instead. 

It’d end with him hoping Schweichen would’ve never rescued him, would’ve left a scourge like him to rot and die within the palace walls he was abandoned in.

Wretched. That’s what his attendants used to say, before his brother found him. Wretched, that's what the rumours said, when he first debuted, hand in hand with his hyung. Cursed thing, his father had said once. 

Ricardo didn’t disagree. 

He was wretched, he was selfish, he didn’t have any morals, his moral compass began and ended with his hyung. His hyung should’ve never let him inside his world. Ricardo knew his sins. He knew the amount of people he’d disposed of behind Schweichen’s back, how many times he’d manipulated the justice his brother respected so much.

Ricardo did not care. Sinning had never stopped him from getting what he wanted.

Ever since he chanced upon the picture books that described sex in his personal library, he’d been closing his room’s doors, locking them. He’d laid face down in his bed, hastily pushing down his pants so they’d pool around his knees. He’d reached towards his nightstand to pull out the bottle of oil he always kept there. He’d coat his fingers in oil, grab at his cock, frantically jerking himself off, pretend it was his hyung doing it. He’d pretend it was his hyung’s strong arms manhandling him, hurting him, yet bringing him to the brink of pleasure.

Today followed a similar ritual. He’d uncapped the bottle, uncaring whether it spilled on his bedsheets. He inserted one finger in himself, thrusting in and out of himself, face twisting in pain. He felt too much, and too little. Today would be his last time in this room. The room he and Schweichen had decorated together, every trinket, every piece of furniture placed after intense debate and with immense care.

His gaze swept across his packed bags. He felt a pang in his heart. He ignored it. A voice kept whispering to him, to simply leave, to not do this, to not hurt his hyung. Ricardo ignored that, too. 

His other hand came to his front as he grabbed his dick. He pushed another finger inside of his ass. It hurt, but at least it was easy, his wrist not aching anymore. Mostly because this was all he’d been doing past week. Fingering himself like a wanton whore, moaning out his brother’s name, muffling it in his pillows so no one would hear.

Not like he cared if people did, but hyung would.

A genuine moan left his lips at the thought of that man. It was no secret how handsome Schweichen was. He knew. The courts knew. Their kingdom knew. Hell, knowing how many proposals he got, he’s sure everyone knew.

But others weren’t Ricardo. Ricardo had seen him grow up, from a lanky boy with overly beautiful features to an awkward teen, to the man people saw today. Ricardo had loved him the moment he saw him.

His hyung, his saviour, his world.

No one would ever know what it felt to love him like Ricardo did.

No one could ever love him like Ricardo did.

By the time his third finger was in, Ricardo was half hard. Stretched enough, patience running out, he suddenly stopped. 

Because today, Ricardo wasn’t trying to chase pleasure. This was the day he ended his dilemma. Executed the plan to break his brother’s heart. Ricardo would be Meticulous. Cruel. This was a means to his end.

He was done opening himself up to take his hyung’s cock. He’d take Schweichen’s first time, whether he liked it or not.

· · ─ ·✶· ─ · ·

Schweichen was many things, petty, rude, brash, but he wasn’t someone who could hold onto his anger for more than a few days.

So when his dear brother knocked on his door, tea tray in hand, inviting himself into his room, opening the doors of the balcony, shivered, turn to steal one of his jackets after setting the tray full of tea and pastries down, saying, “hyung, why don’t we drink tea underneath the moonlight today?”

Schweichen was never going to say no. 

Anyone who knew him, knew he wouldn't. He couldn't. Not with Ricardo.

Ricardo put on Schweichen’s jacket, the one he wore to court. It smelled like him. It was as if he knew he’d be chided for being underdressed if he didn’t.

When Ricardo sat by the balcony, he looked like he was drowning in Schweichen’s clothes because of how small he looked. The clothes should have restricted his movements. Tea preparation was an art. But Ricardo didn’t seem to mind, as if used to wearing these clothes. Or being forced to wear them. He prepared his own cup first, showing blatant disregard for etiquette. Schweichen didn't comment on it. For how disrespectful Ricardo’s actions were, he was the splitting image of the illustrations found in etiquette books as he prepared tea. Perfect posture. Perfect hand placement. Perfect tasting tea too, Schweichen could tell, without even drinking it.

When Ricardo was done, he looked at Schweichen. The moon reflected in his eyes. They curved up, like they always did when he saw him. This was a smile only Schweichen was ever graced with. 

“My Prince.” he said, handing him the cup. Schweichen ignored his outstretched hand and took Ricardo’s cup instead. 

Ricardo had a bad habit, bad according to Schweichen, nothing important according to himself. He'd pay the utmost attention and care for making Schweichen’s tea, but disregard his own cup’s taste.

Ricardo smiled at Schweichen at the gesture. He placed his arms on the table, resting his chin on his hands, looking at Schweichen sip his tea.

“Don't you think I'd have made that cup well, knowing what you'd do?”

Schweichen took a long sip. His eyebrows twitched. Ricardo kept staring. “I can't play your mind games this late.”

Ricardo huffed. “You hate playing them no matter the time.” 

Schweichen fixed his gaze on Ricardo. “I have to. You use them to hide your emotions from me.”

Ricardo leaned back into his chair, breaking eye contact. He hoped his face wasn't flushed. He hoped Schweichen hadn't caught onto his lie. “I can never hide anything from you.”

Schweichen paused, staring down at his tea. Ricardo’s heartbeat picked up, wondering if he'd noticed. Would he hate him if he did? Would he feel sad? Angry?

“You do. Like how you haven't sipped your tea once, and how you've avoided me for weeks.”

Ricardo’s heart ached. He picked up his tea cup, but didn't move to drink it. He didn't want to lie either, it was just—

Schweichen chuckled, sounding resigned and tired, as if laughing at himself. He placed his cup back down.

Ricardo immediately picked up his cup, drinking all the tea in it. It was hot, not meant to be drunk that quickly, so he ended up scalding his tongue, shouting in pain as he swallowed the tea.

Schweichen was immediately by his side, yelling, “Ricardo!” Taking his handkerchief to dab at his mouth, holding up a glass of cold water so Ricardo could feel better. He blew at his mouth, hoping to bring some coolness to his tongue.

His lips were so perfect, thought Ricardo.

Instead of accepting the glass of water, Ricardo grabbed his wrist.

“Hyung, please, can't we drink tea together again? Like before?”

Schweichen sighed in resignation. It sounded like he'd accepted how he'd spoil Ricardo once more, putting his own anger aside. Happy, Ricardo leaned into Schweichen’s hand that had the handkerchief, holding it in place so he could nuzzle into it.

“Are you a cat?” Asked Schweichen, making no move to remove his hand from Ricardo’s grasp, instead, putting down the glass of cold water to run his finger through Ricardo’s hair. Indulgence bursting in his tone and eyes. 

Schweichen let go of his hair and wanted to sit down again, but he found that his balance was off. There was a sharp buzzing in his mind. His grip on the cloth loosened.

Ricardo kept nuzzling into him. “Hyung, do you love me?” Asked Ricardo.

Schweichen opened his mouth, but felt like his tongue was swollen to the point where it had filled up his entire mouth, making him unable to answer. He had a hard time standing. He gripped the table, hoping to find some stability. 

He did not call for help from the guards outside his door.

The buzzing filled his head, the night feeling twice as dark as before. Ricardo’s eyes, bright and lovely, still shone just as brightly as they did when he first saw him, years ago. But his expression was blurry.

“No? It doesn't matter. Because hyung, I love yo—”

· · ─ ·✶· ─ · ·

When Schweichen came to, he was tied up. 

His hands and legs were tied to his bedposts. He felt like his limbs weren't his, felt like he was numb all over. 

Only one part of his body felt alive.

Ricardo must've felt him stirring awake, because he stopped playing with his hands from where he was standing, near one of the bedposts, near the bedside table, to look into his eyes. He smiled, again. With the moon behind him, the expression on his face wasn't clear. But the smile didn't seem to reach his eyes.

Schweichen blinked to gain some vision back. His limbs felt weird. His brain felt hazy. 

Everything seemed off.

“You're awake.”

“Ricardo, what—”

“You won't remember this tomorrow, so I don't have to sugarcoat this. Hyung, I'll be taking your virginity tonight.”

Schweichen blinked. His eyes were still unfocused. “What?”

Ricardo let go of his hands to move away from the bed. He started unbuttoning his shirt while looking at Schweichen.

Ricardo’s eyes shamelessly roamed across Schweichen's naked body. He trailed his own fingers across his chest, stroking his body. Maybe he was wondering how it would've felt for the man in front of him to caress him.

Ricardo’s shirt slipped off from his shoulders, and he lowered his hands to allow it to drop to the floor..

“Hm, are you confused? Mad?,” asked Ricardo, his hands back on Schweichen’s body, trailing his hand from Schweichen's neck to his forehead. Schweichen tried to move, but couldn't.

Ricardo sounded genuinely apologetic as he continued, “Or is the drug not letting you think? Sorry, I wanted you to be conscious, but I had to modify the dosage so you'd forget this ever happened. It'd break your heart if you remembered.” 

“How—” Asked Schweichen, shaking his head, neck craning, as if the fog in his head would dissipate if he did so, “how many times have you done this?”

What an awful accusation. That hurt. Ricardo couldn't read his expression. He wondered what Schweichen was feeling right now. 

Angry? Disappointed, like he was before?

Ricardo untied his waist belt to get rid of his pants next. He was already hard.

It was hard to not be aroused when Schweichen was in front of him, in all his naked glory. Subdued, pliant, just ready for the taking. He'd been coming to the thought of his cock in him for years. Seeing the real thing was enough to make him cum untouched. 

But he held out, because patience had been one of his best virtues. He continued to stare at Schweichen. 

His body was so perfect. His legs, impossibly strong and full of strength, as Ricardo could see now with how muscles currently flexing underneath the restraint. When he rode on a horse, you could see the ripples on his thighs, the way his muscles flexed, like the skin of a panther in the wind.

His thighs, big and powerful. They'd often stretch his pants out because of how big they were. Ricardo knew how they felt to put his head on, but he'd so desperately wanted to rest his head on them after he'd been sucking that cock of his.

Speaking of that, Schweichen’s cock. It looked more like a weapon than a cock. Ricardo wasn't small, but his hyung was nearly twice his size. The thing was huge, purple at the bottom, thick and girthy, curved, with the tip bulging out. It was as big as Ricardo’s thigh, and it was still only half hard.

Ricardo would fix that soon.

Ricardo drooled at the thought of having that in his mouth. His lower half clenched at the thought of having that inside him.

Schweichen's lower body flexed, as if identifying Ricardo’s impure intentions. Ricardo glanced at Schweichen's perfectly curved bottom. So good looking and round. Ricardo loved staring at it whenever he stood behind Schweichen.

Often, as if noticing his gaze, Schweichen would turn to look at him with a twinkle in his eye, as if he knew what Ricardo was doing.

Ricardo wondered if he'd expected these were his intentions.

Ricardo finally tossed his pants aside and climbed the bed, getting on top of Schweichen. He sat upright on the same thighs that had been his safe space for a decade. Their cocks were nearly touching. Ricardo was tinier in comparison when they were so close together.

He loved that so much. He loved his hyung so much. 

He trailed his eyes up, from his cock to the abs that were so perfect you'd think they were carved from marble. To his chest, tight and broad, because every time Schweichen hugged him, Ricardo disappeared into them. They'd hold him with so much power and security, as if no one in the world could hurt Ricardo.

Under Schweichen, no one could. 

To take a man who had sworn to protect him. His source of comfort. Schweichen was so well built, it was like every part of his body had persevered to become capable of protecting him. 

It was only fair that Ricardo thanked him for that. Served him for it.

His eyes then noticed his arms, which were flexing under the hold of his restraints.

They were usually so full of power. Years of swinging that sword around had given him the capacity to take out multiple people in one swing. 

And when he was done with his sword practice, he'd take off his shirt, sweat all over him, highlighting each curve of his upper body. Often, his pants, low at his hips, would drop lower, and Ricardo could see the dark trail of hair that disappeared below his pants.

Everyone would turn to stare. Ricardo would have to enter with a towel and a glass of water to cool him down, turning to glare at everyone who was staring.

Why was he so big? Why was he crafted in a way that ticked every one of Ricardo’s standards? Everyone's standards? Was he the reason those standards existed?

Ricardo loved and hated how perfect Schweichen was.

Seeing the red marks on his wrists, Ricardo got on his knees to lean down, their cocks briefly touching, to kiss them as an apology. Schweichen stopped flexing them.

Ricardo confessed.“It's the first time and last time, because this is the only thing you won't let me have. But I want to have you, whether you want it or not.”

“What do you mean?”

Ricardo didn't respond. His never ending patience had finally bent down and run out. He slipped down from Schweichen's thighs, legs now resting on opposite sides of Schweichen's lower body, so he'd be face to face with the cock that had haunted him for years.

His hands trailed up from Schweichen's thighs to where his balls lay, massaging and caressing.

Ricardo shuddered when he finally grabbed it, needing both of his hands to properly get a grip. The size of it was still such a marvel how something of this size could exist. Ricardo hadn't even seen something like this in the wildest of books.

He rotated his hands as he pumped his cock. And finally, finally, he bent down to take the tip in his mouth.

Schweichen jerked. His entire body trembled in response. Since he was drugged with an aphrodisiac, that was a normal reaction.

But that was nothing in response to how Ricardo’s body reacted. He felt a surge of current pass through his body, from the tips of his fingers to the ends of his toes. 

God, so he was big. His tip barely fit Ricardo’s mouth. The taste was nothing like Ricardo had ever had. Bitter, salty and Schweichen. Ricardo was obsessed. He wanted more.

Ricardo let go of the tip to continue to simply lick his cock, tongue trailing from the bottom where a bush of unkept hair greeted him, to the very tip, where nectar lay. 

He licked it, tasting the precum. His tongue then circled the entire tip. He'd heard it wasn't an enjoyable taste, but maybe because it came from his hyung, Ricardo licked it up, ignoring the rest of his cock. It felt good to have the taste of his cock on his tongue. The actual taste didn't matter. His kittenish licks seemed to annoy Schweichen however, because he jerked his hips up, nearly choking Ricardo.

A sigh left his lips as he went down on Schweichen, trying to take the entire top half inside his mouth, constantly sucking, as if trying to squeeze out every single drop of precum from the man.

Unfortunately, his mouth simply wasn't big enough. Even just the tip made him feel full. So he compromised, sucking on just the cockhead.

He twirled his tongue around, trying to slip it underneath the foreskin. His hands somehow found themselves jerking his own cock off. They came up to wrap around the length, the touch leaving him shivering in delight once more. 

He could never get used to it. The weight of it, the size, everything was catered to him. Made for him.

He felt his own cock harden to the extreme, erect to the point of being painful. His entire body was on fire. This was his dream. This was everything he'd wanted. If Ricardo as much as touched his cock once again, he'd cum, that's how hard he was, how much arousal swirling was within him, vying for an outlet.

He then straightened out his neck, opened his mouth wider, mouth moving lower, trying to take more than just the tip. His tongue on the underside of his cock, teeth hidden, he kept going down, until the cock hit the back of his neck, where he almost gagged, but controlled it. Hyung couldn't feel uncomfortable now, he had to be fully satisfied.

Schweichen's cock was already somewhat erect because of the aphrodisiac, but now, it was fully hard. Ricardo could feel the arousal increasing.

The feeling of his cock getting bigger inside Ricardo’s mouth had him letting out a moan in pleasure.

The aphrodisiac only did so much. 

He'd done the rest. Ricardo had done that. He had made his brother hard.

Schweichen had gone from the occasional jerking of his hips and the twitching of his legs to constantly trembling underneath him. He felt him fighting his restraints, thighs flexing under Ricardo’s hands, but Ricardo knew him, knew his strength, knew him enough that he had modified the aphrodisiac dosage to the exact measurements. He'd made it so it was powerful enough that Schweichen would barely have any power to fight back, but not potent enough to leave any lasting effects.

Schweichen's arousal wasn't contained to his dick, he'd let out soft moans or groans every few seconds.

It felt better than all the music Ricardo had heard throughout his life. 

Ricardo wanted to let go of his cock to gloat. To say, ‘see, we were made for each other, who else would know you so well? Who else could make you feel this way?’

But to make that point, he'd have to let go of Schweichen's cock. He didn't want to. He'd say it later.

He marked how much of Schweichen's cock he could take as head back up, to the point where Schweichen's cock almost slipped out of his mouth. He went down again, swallowing it back up.

His head started bobbing as he enjoyed Schweichen’s dick the most he could. At the time, his hands kept moving. They moved down to grab hold of his balls, massaging them, urging them to give him Schweichen's seed.

He'd have those in his mouth next.

Sometimes in his excitement his hands would hit his lips, but he didn't care about the pain. His lust was so intense he thought his heart would stop. He was feeling the horniest he'd been in his life.

Schweichen was sweating by now, and had decided to muffle his voice by biting down on a pillow. Ricardo wished he could hear his voice again. So he bent down to suck on his balls, moving up while kissing the trail of hair that moved from his cock and disappeared near his stomach. 

Sometimes, he'd bite down on the skin, angry that he wasn't getting what he wanted. Schweichen would hiss in surprise. Ricardo would smile along his skin.

When satisfied, barely, because even if Ricardo spent the rest of his life with this cock in his mouth he'd still have regrets, Ricardo leaned away from Schweichen’s body to look at his masterpiece. 

Strongest man in the kingdom, reduced to panting and moaning, cock hard, marks littering his skin. Ruined. By Ricardo.

Then his eyes locked onto his face. Their eyes met.

Ricardo had so far been trying to not look at Schweichen’s face. This time, he couldn't help but take a look, transfixed.

This was the face that he'd fallen in love with. The face of his saviour. This was the most beautiful face on earth. 

Schweichen's face looked like a statue a person had spent their lifetime carving, bit by bit, piece by piece. There was not a single imperfection on his face. His eyebrows were straight, making him look serious, even when he wasn't. When Schweichen raised one of his eyebrows, he looked so attractive people would gasp in surprise. His eyes were set in a serious brow, yet when they glinted with delight, no gem on the planet could compare. His nose was straight and pointed. His lips were the perfect shade of pink, the bottom one bigger than the other, which should've made him look pouty, but somehow didn't. They always managed to look soft. Ricardo had wished to kiss them for years. 

Schweichen's face didn't have a single scar. It delighted Ricardo, because it meant not a single man had managed to best Schweichen in battle. As if the rest of his body wasn't enough to show his prowess in battle, he even had his face as the proof.

Now, his eyes were cloudy, his brows set in a frown, and his lips had been bitten red from trying to muffle his voice. 

Ricardo wanted to kiss him. He could do it. He should have been able to do it, but he hesitated. 

He found himself distracted. That man in his dreams. Would it feel the same? Would Schweichen kiss back? Would he be brutal? Would he hate it? Would he be gentle?

As profane as Ricardo was being right now, he couldn't make his body move to kiss him on the lips, remembering how important first kisses were for married couples.

He'd taken everything from Schweichen already. He should leave this alone. 

He turned his attention someplace else. There was still a lot of unmarked territory. It didn't have to be his lips.

Ricardo felt irrationally angry. In his fury, he placed this hand on Schweichen’s chest and bent down to bite his neck. His other hand moved up to stroke his cock.

He bit down, hard. Schweichen hissed in pain. Ricardo soothed the bite using his tongue, licking at the same place. He then tried to leave hickeys, not knowing how to. The manuals he'd been reading didn't specify how to leave marks, just to leave some.

So he tried to bite him with less power this time, making sure to monitor Schweichen's facial expressions and body language to see if he was getting close to his release and stopping his hand movements when he felt like he was.

Feeling braver, he moved up, getting close to Schweichen’s face. When Schweichen’s eyes turned to look at him, Ricardo immediately turned his head away and looked down, hiding in the crook of his neck. 

Schweichen wasn't conscious right now, but Ricardo still couldn't bear to do this to him like looking into his eyes.

As an apology, he placed a soft kiss behind his ear.

Schweichen shivered. Ricardo giggled in response. Cute. “Hyung, aren’t you sensitive here?” he whispered.

Schweichen flinched and leaned his head away from Ricardo.

Ricardo’s smile dropped. Even drugged, he managed to reject Ricardo.He bit his ear in retaliation and ignored how Schweichen let out a soft whimper of pain in response. 

He then moved onto his chest, biting and licking. Then his arms. Then his thighs. Then his waist.

After a few bouts of this, Schweichen buckled his hips. Ricardo, thrown off balance, nearly falling off the bed.

Ricardo looked up from where he was kissing skin, glaring at Schweichen. 

Getting impatient himself, he went down to take his cock into his mouth again. Ricardo’s hands went exploring once more. After furiously sucking in his cock, the thing started feeling heavier in this mouth. Schweichen started moaning and got louder.

And then, finally, finally, he filled Ricardo’s mouth with his cum.

It was overwhelming. Ricardo felt unprepared, when this is all he'd wanted from life. It was salty and musky. Tasted like everything and nothing at the same time.

Ricardo came on the spot. 

He drank all of it down like it was an elixir. He let go of Schweichen's cock, still hard thanks to the drug, and caught all the drops that had spilled out of his mouth because of how much Schweichen had cum, licking them off his fingers.

Ricardo wondered if the drug affected semen production. This much couldn't have been the norm. But he ignored that in favor of something else.

Ricardo’s vision was blurry, own eyes filled with tears of pleasure, but he still looked up at Schweichen, Schweichen looked so beautiful when he came undone. 

His Body tensed up from head to toe, eyes crinkled at the edges. He’d raised his neck, tilting his chin up in pleasure, the muscles of his jaw pulled tight. He looked so satiated. So calm.

He'd never seen him this vulnerable. 

No one would have. 

How Ricardo wished he'd be the only one who could. Would this seed one day give birth to one of his children? Spill for petty desire and love?

Ricardo laughed at himself. The receiver wouldn't even need to drug Schweichen to get it, unlike him, a thief.

Ricardo was once again filled with grief. His tears of pleasure quickly turned into tears of grief. To distract himself, he got down from the bed.

Immediately, he heard a loud creak behind him. This heart almost stopped, thinking Schweichen had managed to break free from the restraints.

He turned back around with a vial of oil in his hands. He found nothing amiss. 

Alarm bells went off in his head. The logical thing now would've been to leave, quickly. 

Ricardo found himself ignoring that logic. He'd see this through till the end. For now, he tightened his hold on the vial of oil he'd bought with him and coated his fingers in it for the second time that night.

He got on the bed and emptied the rest on Schweichen’s cock.

Schweichen hissed.

Ricardo made the mistake of looking at him when he did so.

One look at Schweichen's face made him lose nearly all of his bravado.

Ricardo was selfish, cruel and dishonest. He was throwing his hyung’s kindness back to his face. He knew doing this would not bring him any happiness.

Ricardo knew this wasn't his dream.

His dream had sex, yes, but that dream had Schweichen looking at him with hazy, conscious eyes. That had Schweichen choosing him, over and over again. That had Schweichen marrying him. Not this, Ricardo being a scum and violating his hyung.

He had half a heart to turn around, unable to look at Schweichen's face when he did this. But then the monster in him reminded, “he won't remember, this'll be the last time you'll see him.”

The last time.

Ricardo didn't need more convincing. 

Placing his legs on either side of Schweichen's legs, he moved up with his knees until he'd perfectly positioned himself on top of Schweichen's cock. 

His hand went to grab said cock, lining it up with his hole.

Ricardo felt buzzed. Guilt, anger, sadness, love, insanity, arousal, all permeated within his body, overwhelming his brain, not letting him think straight.

All that came to a head stop the second Schweichen’s cock breached the entrance of his hole, Ricardo saw stars.

His eyes rolled back, and he almost lost his footing in pleasure. Had he not cum minutes ago, Ricardo was sure he'd have painted the tanned skin of Schweichen's abs with his cum that instant.

He wondered if he could.

The stretch was overwhelming. It was painful. It was everything Ricardo had ever wanted. It felt like something was impaling him, trying to split him apart. It felt the closest he'd been to Schweichen.

He wanted to stay here, on top of Schweichen. To stay like this forever.

How could anyone walk away from this? How would Ricardo leave after this? How could he take his bags and run, never to see this man once again?

It was so cruel. The agony of separation washed over him like tidal waves, flooding his mind, all encompassing and drowning. He wanted to be here forever. He wanted his hyung inside of him forever.

But he couldn't be. Hyung was someone else's.

Unknown to him, he’d started crying. He must’ve looked pathetic to anyone who saw, forcing someone to fuck him, yet crying on top of them, heartbroken. 

He was glad that Schweichen wouldn’t remember any of this. 

Tomorrow, with the arrival of dawn, Ricardo would leave this kingdom, this house, his hyung forever. He wanted to be remembered as a brother who loved his family. As a respectable member of the royal family. Not as the monster he was, who had managed to roam the walls of the palace for years, hiding as a human.

Before he could wallow more, he felt a surge of tearing pain.

It was so sharp, so abrupt that for seconds Ricardo forgot to react. And then he looked down.

Ricardo’s heart nearly stopped.

His hyung had managed to shove his entire dick inside Ricardo, and was now panting in pain, trying to pull out only to jerk his hips up again, by himself. Trying to rut inside Ricardo, trying to chase his own pleasure.

Except Ricardo’s body had seized up in pain, clenching on the foreign body with all his strength.

Pain like no other overcame him.

No matter how much he’d stretched himself, no matter how much he’d prepped, he could've never prepared himself for how big his hyung was. He felt so uncomfortable, like the back of his throat had been stuffed shut, like his entire lower half was rendered unusable now.

Ricardo was not ready to handle this. Ricardo’s body was not built for this.

In his grief, Ricardo forgot what he was actually here for; fucking his hyung. He’d also forgotten what he’d done; drugging his brother with the most potent aphrodisiac that was available in the kingdom. But it seemed like the drug had finally taken over his brain.

For a moment, Ricardo had thought his hyung had done it by himself.. But of course, that was impossible. Ricardo had made sure he wouldn't be able to stay sane while they were doing this.

A sane man would cut his losses short. A normal person would stop here, walk off.

But Ricardo was not sane. Ricardo was not normal, had never been. Perhaps being abandoned by his parents had made him set out a path, leading him towards this ending. Perhaps their parents were to be blamed for him turning out this way.

Because more than pain, what Ricardo felt was pleasure.

Raw, unadulterated pleasure. His toes had curled up from how good it had felt. To be taken without his knowledge. To be fucked with force. How full he felt because of it.

He’d long given up on getting any response from Schweichen, knowing this wasn't a dream.

But in his dreams, Schweichen was not his gentle and kind hyung. Schweichen was the kind who’d throw him against a bed, not listen to his pleas as he entered him, roughly, harshly, and would set a brutal pace, chasing his own pleasure, selfish to the extreme. He'd use Ricardo as a rag roll to vent his desires, then when he’d cum inside of him. He'd ignore Ricardo’s cries, ignore how his body was not made for such rough sex, and would drag Ricardo around, attending meetings. Ricardo’s shaking legs would get him stares. It would ruin his reputation in the court.

Schweichen would not care. He only cared about one thing, making sure Ricardo knew who he belonged to. 

That was Ricardo’s dream. Every night, he’d get as rough with himself as possible to chase this fantasy.

His dream had been realized. His body would forever remember this, his body would be moulded with his hyung’s cock, forever unsatisfied with anything but him. 

Just like his heart, he was ruined for anyone but one man. Schweichen. His hyung. His prince.

His god.

The fantasy had come true. Ricardo’s cock stood tall, leaking in desperation of a release.

“Did you get impatient? Do you want this as much as me, hyung?” he gasped in delight, pain still hitting him in waves. He asked, knowing Schweichen couldn't answer.

Then, he lifted himself up, tip barely inside of him, and dropped down again. The sound of their bodies colliding echoed in the room, Schweichen's balls slapped his ass, what rang louder was Ricardo’s own moan. Loud and winding.

Ricardo no longer cared if anyone heard. Ricardo cared about nothing except making sure he remembered everything about this moment.

He placed his hand on his stomach to support himself, only to notice it would bulge every time Schweichen’s cock was fully inside of him, as if Schweichen was changing his body.

His toes curled up in delight when he saw that for the first time.

He noticed how the tip of his cock was curved, and he would feel it hitting his prostate, the pleasure building with each thrust, strangely always targeted at the perfect spot. Ricardo could no longer care about the discrepancies. The strange things that were building up. The best strategist in the kingdom now had his tongue out, head thrown back, barely holding himself together. The nation's jewel, Schweichen's best kept possession, now cock-drunk like a common whore. 

He noticed everything, and he memorized each and every minute. Ricardo wanted to remember this moment until the day he died. 

Ricardo would remember it.

He couldn’t help but smile when Schweichen’s moans grew louder, more frantic, joining his. His face scrunched up like it had earlier when he was close to an orgasm. Ricardo noted every expression of his, etching it into his memory. He was getting close. Ricardo clenched his ass, hoping it would pleasure him more.

Only the best for Schweichen.

As they got louder, too loud to ignore, Ricardo couldn't help wondering if others were hearing them.

Did the guards stationed outside his room know? Did they know the two rulers of their kingdom were now fucking like animals in heat? Did they know how well they fit? 

Did they know Ricardo was right? 

Right about how Schweichen was made for him, and him for Schweichen? Right about how their bodies were made for being connected together, like this? Right about how no one could bring their precious crown prince pleasure like Ricardo did? How Ricardo was right about everything related to Schweichen?

They didn’t. No one except Ricardo knew, would know. But that was okay, because he knew. He was proven right.

As full of enthusiasm as he was. Ricardo’s body wasn’t built for such strenuous exercise. Soon, his legs gave out, and he flopped down, laying his chest on Schweichen’s.

Schweichen, currently chasing his own orgasm, continued to lift his hips up to drive his own cock inside of Ricardo, trying to rut inside him as best as he could with his limbs still tied up. Ricardo tilted his head up to look at Schweichen’s face.

Against his better judgement, he found himself lifting himself to Schweichen’s eye level, meeting his gaze head on.

Then, he did the one thing he promised to never do.

He kissed him.

His lips were soft, just as soft as he’d imagined. He kissed him once, then stopped. Stared at him in disbelief of what he’d done.

But like a man who’d finally had a sip of water, he leant down again, swooping in for another kiss. Lifted his head up once more, trying to stop. But he did it again. And again. He kissed, he licked, he nibbled, He bit them raw. Meanwhile, hips constantly moving to try to meet Schweichen’s own, as Schweichen's jerky movements to chase his own pleasure rocked him around, cock still wedged inside his ass, pleasuring him greatly. 

Soon, Ricardo got bolder. He forced open Schweichen’s mouth and pushed his tongue in, gently massaging Schweichen’s tongue with his own. He explored the entirety of Schweichen’s mouth, slowly and softly, afraid to hurt him. It was the sweetest thing he'd done all night. It felt like they were lovers at that moment, enjoying a simple kiss amidst the throes of pleasure. 

Until Schweichen got impatient. Frantic. His hips started plummeting into Ricardo’s like he was some animal. Ricardo lost his concentration and his mouth fell open in pleasure, the endless pleasure reducing him into whimpering into Schweichen’s mouth, stopping his kisses to enjoy being fucked.

When Schweichen came, he fully pushed his entire cock into Ricardo’s ass till the hilt, and filled him up with a groan.

Hot, heavy seed filled Ricardo. There was so much of it, he felt like his entire half was full of it. Because of how deep Schweichen was, the outline of his cock was now visible on Ricardo’s stomach. Ricardo looked almost pregnant.

Pregnant with his hyung’s child.

With a gasp, he came to that thought.

Neither of them made any move to detach themselves from one another. Ricardo looked up, basking in delight. But as his eyes moved past his hyung, who was slowly blinking his eyes shut. The effect of the drug wearing off.

Ricardo’s stomach twisted in guilt. And then he saw the sky, only to notice the beginning of dawn starting to arrive.

All arousal left his body. The previously heavy and loaded atmosphere disappeared, only for dread to take over him.

The night had ended, and Ricardo had to run.

He placed his hands beside Schweichen’s face and immediately got up, almost dropping back down because of how everything hurt. He winced in pain when Schweichen’s cock slipped out of him. Schweichen groaned in dissatisfaction. Ricardo paused, and then kissed him, as if placating him.

When he got down from the bed, he nearly fell down from the pain that shot up his back. “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he gasped, trying to dress himself as Schweichen’s cum leaked out of his hole, making a mess out of everything, his clothes getting transparent because of the fluid.

How could a person come this much? Ricardo wondered.

Why had Ricardo worn white? He cursed his own stupidity.

Everything hurt, there wasn’t a part of his body that wasn’t screaming in pain, but Ricardo had steeled his heart already. One night of passion almost changed his mind. But he couldn't. His brother hadn't taught him to give up.

He had to go. He would leave today, and never look back.

What else could he do, besides leave? Die? That would hurt his brother. Stay? That would destroy him. Ricardo wasn’t selfish enough to doom his brother to an eternity of pain and judgement, neither was he wasn’t selfless enough to stay and let the love of his life marry someone else before his eyes. 

The plan was set. The plan was meticulous. The plan was perfect.

Yet. 

Yet, Ricardo turned. Ricardo turned back to look at his brother, who was slowly losing his consciousness. He’d soon wake up, effects of the drugs all gone. 

The aphrodisiac's effect wore off if you came once, so he was close to getting back his senses. He’d wake up confused, but he couldn’t remember Ricardo’s betrayal. Ricardo would leave a letter explaining his absence. 

All would be well. It was an ending Ricardo didn't deserve, but he'd yanked it from fate's hands to make it his.

All Ricardo had to do was walk away.

But Schweichen. Schweichen, who had rescued Ricardo. Schweichen, who got into trouble because of him. Schweichen, who'd seen gold in an abandoned child. Schweichen, who sacrificed his own childhood to make sure Ricardo was happy. Schweichen, who pretended he was happy so Ricardo wouldn't be sad.

His mind was filled with one thing

Schweichen, Schweichen, Schweichen, Schweichen—

He turned. How would Ricardo be expected to leave without any regrets?

He walked towards the sleeping Schweichen, placing a palm beside his head, simply looking at the face that had haunted him for years. 

His beloved. His heart. His soul. 

Ignoring his own rules, ignoring all common sense, he leaned down once again. This kiss was silent, quiet. A tear fell from Ricardo’s eyes onto Schweichen’s cheek.

Like the coward he was, he whispered a confession that would be heard by no one except himself. “Bye, hyung. I love you.”

He tore himself away from Schweichen to stand back him. He took a moment to gather himself next, and turned away from the life he’d lived so far. This was the best decision, he kept repeating. He never turned to look back. If he had, he’d never leave. He’d ruin both of their lives. This was the best decision, he repeated.

Then, there was a loud sound. 

His hand was grabbed.

He was yanked back, back towards the bed.

A hand grabbed his waist, lifting him with just one hand. and threw him on top of the bed. His hyung’s bed. Where they’d just had sex.

““Running away already?”

Chapter Text

Schweichen hated his life.

His life was set in stone before he was ever born. He would be the most powerful entity in the kingdom. A child brought to life with the expectation of being a king, a being closer to a god than human. 

He was loved. He enjoyed riches and luxuries that most would only ever dream of. He’d never lifted a finger in his life. His life was as good as it got for anyone. 

He hated it. He loathed it all.

He knew it was selfish. Schweichen understood the pain most people went through, how his problems amounted to nothing in comparison to how most in his kingdom lived. In poverty, in hunger, in starvation. He knew what it was, he had seen what it did to people.

He still hated it all. He hated how his parents only saw him as the next heir. He hated how his brothers, the family he was supposed to rely on, saw him as competition. He hated how his teachers saw him as nothing but a future king. He hated how the people around him saw him only as a crown prince, someone they needed to suck up to. Someone they needed to impress, leave a favourable impression on, every interaction brought on with the intention of a king owing favour to them. With the hope that when in time, their act of kindness would result in them being helped by a king. Make their life better. No one saw him. All people saw was a crown. 

It didn’t matter who it was. It could’ve been any of his brothers, they’d behave the same with them. 

When people saw Schweichen, they saw a potential ruler, a king who’d help them in the future, they saw how they’d be able to get the most benefits out of being nice to him. No one wanted to let him be him— just Schweichen, a child figuring out his life. No one wished to interact with a young boy still learning how the world worked. People wanted to make an impression on the king he’d become in the future.

He hated that, he hated his life. He’d received no love from anyone, for the love was never without strings, never without any attachments or expectations. This vessel of love came laced with conditions.

In return, he felt no love towards anybody who claimed to “love” him, nor did he feel happy when he was ”cherished”, neither did he enjoy how everyone fawned over him.

He knew they only did so with the hope of a future yet to be realized.

Schweichen knew his disobedience would cause issues. His brothers would jump at the chance to dispose of him, climb over his dead body to claim a throne he had no interest in. His parents would abandon him. Schweichen cared little for the throne, but he hated losing even more. 

If he lost, if he lived, what would he be?

He’d only ever been a crown prince.

Thus, he had no other choice than to become everything that people expected of him. 

Kind. Gentle. Understanding. Powerful. Capable. 

A future king. 

Everyday felt like a fucking chore. He felt like he had to live life because that's what was expected of him. This expectation was drilled so deep into him that on some days he wondered if he was anything more. 

What did he like? What did he love?

Schweichen did not know. When others talked of hobbies, of interests, he did not know what that was. He did not know what that should feel like.

Because he was the prince. Next in line for the throne. Future king. Future god.

He thought this is how life was. The farmer had to toil away at the fields that kept their family fed, a gardener found no joy in tending to the gardens that would sprout weeds no matter how many were yanked out. Such was how the world worked: a series of misfortunes accompanied by an existence that brought you no joy. But it was existence. Perhaps joy was to be obtained by continuing to live. 

Momentary happiness was fleeting, and the joy poets talked about, the happiness? It must not exist. 

Schweichen was fine with that. Schweichen was fine with living like this, dissatisfied, unusually angry, but well-fed. He was luckier than most.

Until one day, when he met a boy. 

It was an unassuming day, nothing unique or memorable about it. The days blended together, Schweichen was once five, and then ten. The sky was the same boring shade of blue as it always was, his classes as boring and repetitive, and the courts he was forced to attend as dull as ever. 

He’d only been more annoyed than usual at how his teacher kept trying to butter him up, assuring him that he was doing good, when they both knew he wasn’t. In his irritation, he’d taken a different route to his quarters, the one that took longer but rewarded you with a path that led through rows of gardens, the kind he couldn’t usually take because of how tight his schedule was. 

In one of those gardens, rough and not well maintained in ways that signified this part of the castle wasn’t as important as the rest, his eyes fell on a boy sitting on a bench, staring at nothing. There was something about him that pulled Schweichen towards him. He felt like a string being pulled taut with no give. He blinked. He found himself standing in front of that boy, transfixed.

The boy took a while to notice him. His clothes were clean, but they were wrinkled in places, and stained in some. It showed his class; the boy must’ve been a commoner, or a neglected bastard child of a noble who had made his way to the royal palace. Schweichen’s mind was running, trying to understand everything he could about this boy. 

He had to have been poor. In comparison, Schweichen didn’t wear the same set of clothes more than twice. Neither did the rest of his family. 

Perhaps the boy was clumsy and in the habit of spilling his food. Perhaps he had a habit of holding onto his clothes with clenched fists when he was nervous. Schweichen found himself wanting to know every detail about how this boy lived. How he’d lived so far. He found himself wishing to be present in his future.

The boy was also thin. Too thin. His back was hunched, shoulders slouched, as if protecting him, further contrasting with Schweichen’s straight back, a habit after years of etiquette classes. The boy’s eyes were slow, as if he needed a moment to focus on Schweichen. Then, he looked up.

At that moment, his years of etiquette classes and manners, years of listening to how he must stay look detached and aloof, all rules that had been beaten onto him were long forgotten. Schweichen let out a low gasp when those eyes finally landed on him, eyes widening in response.

They were the prettiest eyes that he’d ever seen. No person, no object, no gem in this world could’ve compared to how beautiful they looked. Dark, with specks of light that seemed to swim in them, constantly moving, as if there was a galaxy contained within, as if the sky itself had decided to take refuge in this boy. His dark eyes contrasted beautifully with his golden hair, which made it look like he had a halo on his head, like a fallen angel.

Schweichen was eleven, then. He’d seen a lot of the world. He’d seen visiting diplomats that looked nothing like the people in his kingdom, with different eyes and hair. He’d met with princes and princesses. He’d seen consorts renowned for their beauty, married to powerful, ugly kings. Nothing had moved him like this. Nothing had made his heart race like this.

The boy’s lips curved, maybe in response to his reaction. A smile, but not really. Polite, but distant. Apprehensive. He did not look at Schweichen with confusion. He must know him, them. So young, yet so guarded. 

Who was he? Where was he from? How had he never seen him? These questions took over Schweichen’s mind.

And then, a singular thought, like a misplaced speck of snow becoming an avalanche that brought nothing but ruin, a thought that overwhelmed him, would become the centre of his universe for the rest of his life. 

‘I must have him.’ 

Schweichen had never wanted anything in his life. Not like this. Is this what wanting someone felt like? Schweichen felt like he’d die if he left now. He would take this boy under his wing, he’d offer all the gold in his personal treasury for this boy. 

He was so beautiful, he had to be someone’s most precious treasure.

Schweichen would have him. He’d snatch him, kidnap him, if must. He would own him. This was his person now.

A prince mustn’t indulge, but Schweichen would. He needed to have him forever. 

Schweichen was so well-behaved. His parents wouldn’t mind if he asked for him. If he threw a tantrum to have this boy. He was owed that. Weren’t princes supposed to be arrogant? His brothers were always demanding riches and gifts. He’d become arrogant if that’s what was needed. He’d disobey everyone. He’d become a menace if necessary.

Schweichen would change his life around for him. 

At this moment, he understood the power his teachers talked about. The power people approached him for. The power which had ruined his life.

If he was a king, no one could take this boy away from him, right? He would become one. He’d become the king of kings if it meant this boy could be his and his alone. 

He felt entranced, like his soul had been captured by this boy. As if he’d handed over the leash to his own heart in his hands to someone who didn’t know what he was holding. His mind didn’t think it belonged to himself any more.

It felt unreal. It felt dangerous.

His heart was beating so loud it was all he could hear.

For the first time, Schweichen understood what it meant to be alive, with his pulse quickening and heart on overdrive, heat taking over his entire face.

The boy jumped off from the bench. His teacher would call that unsophisticated. 

Schweichen found it cute. The boy was so small. 

“Crown prince. Hello,” Said the boy, bowing. His voice was scratchy, his words slurred. He wasn’t taught how to speak like nobility yet.

Schweichen tilted his head in confusion. The bow was perfect. Commoners shouldn’t know how to bow like that. 

Who could it be? Minor nobility? A servant boy? But Schweichen wasn’t known to the public yet, so how did this boy know his identity?

The question took over his mind. “And you are…?” Schweichen asked, his palms sweating. He was nervous, uncharacteristically so. He tried not to let that show.

“Me…?” The boy stared blankly at him in response, as if unused to anyone asking him about himself. Schweichen couldn’t help but wonder how it was possible that a boy this lovely hadn’t been spoiled to the heavens yet. Or how Schweichen hadn’t met him yet.

There was a pause where both of them looked at one another, unsaid thoughts filling the silence, “...Your younger brother,” said the boy.

Schweichen blinked.

The boy started fidgeting, his bravado slowly crumbling, as if his courage had run out. A child this malnourished must have been abandoned and neglected. Try as he might, there was no way he could act for so long, especially in front of someone so different from him. A figure of a much higher authority than him. So high, he’d be considered as a different type of human altogether. Put together, loved, cherished by all. 

Unlike him, an ingrate no one wanted.

“I’m the… fourth prince…” he said, voice going so low he was whispering at the end.

It was then that Schweichen remembered. He did have a younger brother that he hadn’t seen yet. His two other brothers had proven to be nothing but additional headaches, so he’d chosen to not bother with the last one, all hopes of family and love distinguished. But he didn’t think his youngest brother would be someone like the boy in front of him.

He internally cursed himself for not meeting him for so many years. How cute would the boy have been when younger? Had anyone even recorded how he’d looked? Were there portraits of him, like there were of his other two brothers?

Looking at his clothes, the chance was slim.

Schweichen looked at this boy, neglected and forgotten, in this garden no one ever visited. He saw how his skin clung to his bones, how he shivered if Schweichen looked at him for too long. This boy, who’d tried to appear nonchalant in a way a royal should be, without ever having been trained for it.

He then looked at himself, spoiled to filth, yet so ungrateful.

If you’d managed to come across this secluded area of the castle at this time, you’d see this:

The crown prince, usually cold and aloof, was on his knees, holding a young boy’s hand. He then traced circles oh his wrist, as if calming the boy down. The expression on his face was something no person had ever seen yet, including his parents. 

Schweichen was smiling. 

“Would you like to be mine, Ricardo?” asked the crown prince.

Ricardo’s lowered head shot up. “You know my name…?” he asked, shocked. His lip wobbled.

Schweichen knew him as a distant relative, someone he knew existed, but had no interest in getting close to.

He took it on himself to get up and hug the boy, gathering him in his arms. So small, so bony. He was eight, yet he looked younger, no doubt malnourished and neglected. Schweichen must right this wrong at once. 

Ricardo, an unloved child, was someone who’d trust anyone who showed him the tiniest bit of affection. He raised his arms to hug Schweichen. His grip was tight, as if he wouldn’t let go even if Schweichen tried to pry him off.

Acting out of character once again, Schweichen found himself softening and kissing the top of his head. “Hm, I know your age too. Hyung will take care of you now, little prince.”

The boy in his arms sniffled, putting all of his weight on the crown prince. “...Promise?”

Schweichen’s grip on him tightened. “Till the day I die.”

· · ─ ·✶· ─ · ·

When Ricardo felt a hand grab him, he stilled. His heart felt like it had stopped beating. His throat felt like it had something lodged inside, restricting airflow. 

He felt all the blood in his body rushed to his head. It was dizzying, overwhelming, like he’d collapse any second. Brain working on overdrive, he wondered if it was a guard who’d defied orders and entered without knocking. He thought of how he’d be able to dispose of the ingrate. 

That trail of thought came to a head stop when the grip on his hand tightened and he was yanked back to the bed. All of a sudden, a shadow fell over him. Then, his hyung’s voice, ringing in his ear, his hyung on top of him, looming over him like a devil who’d crawled out of hell, eyes fiery and very, very conscious. Ricardo’s eyes glanced up to look at his hands, the same hands that he’d chained up himself, hands that were supposed to be shackled, only to find the chains broken. 

Ripped apart, as if the idea of restraining the man was laughable.

Legs on either side of Ricardo, Schweichen had him trapped below him. Schweichen grinded down, and Ricardo felt the curve of his still-hard dick trace his own growing arousal.

Then, as if to challenge Ricardo, Schweichen tugged, and with a loud clang, he broke off one of the restraints that was holding up his leg in place.

His eyes were clear. The haze in them was long gone. For a moment, Ricardo wondered if it was possible to talk his way out of this.

That is, until Schweichen let go of his arm to trail his hands down, tracing the contours of his lips and neck. Ricardo, as scared as he was, as terrified as he felt, shivered at the touch, back arching in response, wishing his hyung would touch him more. Then, Schweichen grabbed the collar of his shirt and yanked.

Like paper, Schweichen ripped his shirt apart. It fell down by his hands, as if it was nothing. There were no marks on this torso, so his mind was still running to try to get out of the situation, just an excuse, hoping his hyung would entertain him, until the hands kept going down further, and reached the waistband of his trousers.

Ricardo’s blood ran cold. He pushed his hyung back and tried to run, managing to successfully get one leg off the bed, but a hand grabbed his other ankle and he was dragged back on the bed.

His back hit the mattress and Schweichen flipped him like it was nothing. He slapped Ricardo’s ass, hard. 

His thighs, that were on top of Ricardo, were forcing Ricardo to stay put by pushing down on him. Almost like a warning.

It stung. Ricardo moaned.

He grabbed at his waist to tear at his pants. With his strength, it didn’t even take a second until they were in tatters. 

Schweichen would now see everything. The blood near his rim, the drying cum on his thighs. Ricardo, whose hands were trying to push himself away from Schweichen, went on below his head to hide his tearful eyes. He was going to start sobbing. When he tried to speak, he found himself breathing so hard he could barely get out the words.

“I- I’m sorry, hyung- sorry-”

Ricardo couldn’t see Schweichen’s face, but he could tell he was angry. Angriest he’d ever been. His anger felt like it was coming off him in waves. 

“What are you sorry for?”

This tone was the one he took when torturing prisoners. The tone he’d speak with his parents to. Devoid of any emotions. So cold it felt like the frost of winter had managed to reach Ricardo’s heart. He wanted to die. He’d rather be dead than be spoken to this way.

Ricardo still found it hard to speak. Breathing felt difficult. His heart was beating so loud he could barely hear Schweichen. “For— for, drugging, sir, for-”

“That’s not what you should be sorry for.” Said Schweichen, yanking his arms away from his face, pulling him backwards so Ricardo was leaning back, just so he could look into his eyes. Schweichen turned him around, took both of his hands and pinned them above his head, the other hand coming to grab at his chin with a death grip, not letting Ricardo move his head around. 

The fury in his eyes was blazing. His tone was so cold, yet his naked body and his eyes so hot. 

He was fully restrained underneath this man, unable to move an inch. Forced to take all of the anger.

Ricardo’s tears wouldn’t stop falling. He tried again. “Lying—”

“Hm,”  Schweichen said, moving up, so their dicks touched. Ricardo nearly moaned, but bit his lip to silence himself, “You always lie to me, not that either.”

“Hyung— hyung, no—” Ricardo shook his head, overwhelmed. Schweichen’s face came closer to his own, and then turning around, he approached the side of his body bit at his neck, hard. Ricardo yelped in response. His sobbing slowing down in confusion.

Then, Schweichen shifted to whisper in his ear, his voice filled with so much anger it could melt steel, “What you should be sorry for, is trying to fucking run away.”

Ricardo shivered. Schweichen never cursed. He felt his dick twitch in excitement, that pathetic thing driven by lust. His hyung would notice and toss him out quicker. It was overwhelming. Ricardo had never thought it would come to this. That they’d ever have this exchange. In his confusion, his sobs had nearly come to a total halt. “Huh?”

Schweichen moved away from his ear to look down at his cock. He let go of his chin to grab at his dick. Ricardo whimpered. This was the worst punishment known to mankind. Schweichen, however, traced the tip with his finger and started stroking the thing. He looked into Ricardo’s eyes as he said, “For taking hyung’s first time and not taking responsibility. For trying to run away from me. Leaving me behind, as you always do. For trying to get yourself killed. For thinking hyung didn’t love you. Apologize, Ricardo.”

Ricardo, overwhelmed, didn’t register the meaning.“Sorry, sorry— forgive me, please.”

“Who did you say you loved?”

He sobbed. Schweichen’s speed in stroking his cock increased. At Ricardo’s lack of response, he stopped. Ricardo shamelessly cried out loud, “You, you, you! Hyung, love hyung! So much—”

Schweichen spat into his hand, using his own spit as lubricant for Ricardo’s cock. “Only me?”

Ricardo was nearing his limits. His hyung kept stroking him, his weight was on him, he was pinned with nowhere to go. This was humiliating. This was everything he ever wanted. He was about to cum and die because of the treason of stealing his hyung’s first time. “Only you, always you, trust me…”

Schweichen quickened his strokes. “Again.”

“Love you, love you so much, want to die because of how much I love you,” through whimpers, Ricardo bared his soul for the man in front of him to see. He didn’t know what was going on. Too much had happened, he’d done too many things. His mind felt like it couldn’t string a single thought along to its conclusion. He was so hot, so aroused, and he was helpless and unable to resist. 

He was terrified. It was well within Schweichen’s rights to kill him. 

Would he? 

His life beginning and ending with Schweichen? 

Ricardo moaned at that thought.

“Don’t stop saying it until I allow you to,” said Schweichen, before he lifted him by his waist, placed him in the center of the bed. He flipped him around, so his back was facing Schweichen.

Then he manhandled him into forcing his head down, so Ricardo was left arching his back, ass in front of Schweichen’s face.

“Hyung, don’t—”

Schweichen smacked his ass. Hard.

Ricardo winced and curled up in shock and pain.

“Do I need to ask you for permission, Ricardo?”

Another smack.

Schweichen’s voice took on a dangerous edge, as if he was holding onto the last shred of his sanity. “Reply when talked to. Do I need to ask you for permission?”

Ricardo made a sound that was between a moan and a sob. “No.”

Smack. “Who owns you?”

“Hyung.”

Schweichen’s reply was his fingers filling Ricardo’s ass. In response, Ricardo let out the loudest moan he had so far. He was sure the entire castle heard.

Schweichen’s pace got faster. Harsher, almost punishing. “I didn’t raise you to be a whore, Ricardo, who did you learn to do this from?”

Ricardo shook his head. “Hm— books, thought of you while learning to do it….”

“More lies?”

“No, no, no, promise, only you.”

“Hm… I know,” he kissed the side of his thigh, gentle, like the hyung he knew. It felt out of place in the atmosphere. He was so angry, so unlike him. This kiss felt so much like the Schweichen he knew that it disarmed him. It felt like an executioner kissing their victim before landing the final blow.

“I’ve heard you come to my name for years, after all.”

· · ─ ·✶· ─ · ·

For years, Schweichen did not know that he loved Ricardo.

He knew love was to compromise. Like his father and mother. They ‘loved’ one another, they didn’t see one another much, but they ‘loved’ one another, so they had to stay together. They ‘loved’ one another, so they were in love with people who they could never be with beyond closed doors. They ‘loved’ one another, so they promised to never sire children with any of their lovers.

To Schweichen, Ricardo was everything. And to Ricardo? He was everything. He saw it in the way Ricardo only ever had him in his eyes. He knew his importance in Ricardo’s life. They could never ‘compromise’ for anything.

He knew love to be that of a man who couldn’t let his lover marry another, even though he had nothing to offer them, and would make no changes in his life to do so. Impulsive and foolish.

Schweichen had made sure Ricardo would be given everything. He’d changed himself, molded himself to be the perfect crown prince, a competent heir, so he could throw his weight around and protect Ricardo no matter what happened. Ricardo had the best rooms, the best teachers, the best food, the best clothing. 

The day they met would be the last anyone saw of the fourth prince that way, as a shivering and hungry child, with clothes too long, hair too dull, eyes not bright enough. Schweichen had found out the eyes he loved so much could get brighter, the first time Ricardo had bravely asked to sleep in the same room as his. Not even the bed. Just the room, the floor would do, he'd said. The boy just wanted to be close to him.

Never would anyone be graced with a Ricardo that fragile.

The fourth prince was now the most important member of the Royal family. And he would be till the day either of them died.

Schweichen had made sure of it.

There was no one in their palace, in the capital, in the kingdom that could touch his brother. The one time his brothers had tried to, he’d shown them what would happen if anyone tried it again. They were left in ways that had horrified his parents. But Schweichen was older. Stronger.

None had, none could interfere in the punishment he doled out if Ricardo was ever harmed.

That day, when Schweichen had returned with blood on his hands, Ricardo had kissed his cheeks as thanks. He hadn't been scared, or disgusted, like his parents. He'd tip-toed, reaching up to Schweichen’s height, attempting to kiss his cheek. He was just as short back then, too, so Schweichen had to lift him up. He had told Schweichen that he loved him.

He didn’t think what he felt for Ricardo was the ‘love’ that was described in sonnets and plays. In Schweichen’s mind, he hadn't managed to find a word that could be used to describe what he felt for him.

Ricardo was his everything. He was his light at the end of the tunnel. He was the guiding moon in his night sky. He was the stars in a moonless night. He was his sanctuary, his escape. What he felt for Ricardo came as easy to him as swordplay or breathing. It was natural. It was a part of him. It felt as inevitable as being a prince. It felt like it was destiny to feel all this for him.

It was another unassuming day that changed this thought. Ricardo had made his debut into high society in the grandest ball the kingdom had seen. It was a moment of celebration.

Schweichen hated it.

Schweichen had found himself glaring at everyone who stared at his brother for too long. Ricardo was in his arms, and Schweichen had to constantly remind himself to be calm, because his grip on Ricardo kept bordering on being crushing. Ricardo made no move to show it, adjusting casually, but Schweichen noticed.

He'd pat his waist as thanks every time it happened. Ricardo would look up at him with those bright eyes and smile, as if enjoying their secret moment amongst the bustling crowd.

Schweichen would want to smile back, but he'd notice someone eyeing his brother from the corner of his eye, plunging his mood into the abyss once more.

Most people got the hint and averted their eyes, leaving the two of them alone after minor introductions. Most, except that one irritating advisor that Schweichen hated, who brought his equally as irritating son along with him.

When Schweichen hinted that they should leave, they either did not understand, or refused to.

“Now that the fourth prince has debuted, don’t you think it’s time for his majesty to look for a marriage alliance?” proposed that pathetic excuse of a human that Schweichen was growing to strongly dislike.

Ricardo had frozen at that. The fossil’s equally ingrate son had stepped in, and took Ricardo’s hand, intending to kiss it. Schweichen saw how his eyes took in Ricardo, his brother, his little prince. 

Particularly the blond’s hair, which Schweichen fussed every day over, the eyes that were Schweichen’s personal jewels, and then the rest of his body, tbe body Schweichen had nursed to health after the traumatic childhood Ricardo had. 

He remembered seeing red. He had snatched Ricardo’s hand away from that creep. Ricardo let out an ‘ow, hyung!’ but Schweichen had pushed him behind him, as if protecting him.

“Distasteful, impudent, and audacious. With what authority do you think you can touch him?” He’d asked.

No, not asked. He'd raised his voice, made a scene, berated the man publicly.

Schweichen was a gentle, kind man. He was the perfect prince. Perfect princes didn’t raise their voices. Perfect princes didn’t grab for their swords when their brothers were being courted. Perfect princes did not curse out their subjects.

Schweichen was never really perfect, though. He’d just pretended to be, for Ricardo. To protect him.

Ricardo had put his hand on his arm, slowly guiding him into sheathing his sword once more. He'd said, “Ignore the idiot,” in a whisper. 

As Schweichen glanced back at the person involved, Ricardo had smiled back, his hands trailing past his arms to intertwine with his own.

He felt a storm brewing, a storm that wished to destroy anyone who saw Ricardo like this, beautiful and playful, lovely in ways no poet could describe, no artist could recreate.

Jealousy.

Schweichen had known, then.

He loved Ricardo. 

· · ─ ·✶· ─ · ·

Ricardo went very, very quiet after hearing that. His moaning ceased. He went so quiet that you would think he'd fainted. 

Schweichen felt his entire body shiver, then felt how goosebumps rose on his skin.

“What?” He asked. 

Of course he didn't know. Unlike Ricardo, who wore his heart on his sleeve, Schweichen had learned how to be more secretive about his affections. He had to be, or else the courts would try to harm his love. He'd hidden it, much like how he'd hidden his desire to die as a kid. He had to learn to appear more princely. Princes didn't love their brothers this way. This all consuming need to protect him that he’d formed the rest of his life around. The obsession that drove him mad and kept him up at night.

He'd faked it all. All for Ricardo. After all that, what had Ricardo done to repay him?

He’d drugged him. Lied to him, then tried to run away and abandon Schweichen.

Schweichen kept hammering his fingers inside Ricardo, pace unrelenting. He hoped Ricardo felt the anger he had within him through his actions. Hearing how Ricardo kept making these tiny, wounded sounds, but Schweichen knew what he was actually feeling. He knew him so well that he knew he was simply enjoying the rough housing.

So he turned him around once more, uncaring if it hurt Ricardo, and stared into his eyes. They were red from all the crying, corners looking like an artist had dotted them with specs of pink to make him all the more alluring. His blonde hair laid scattered across Schweichen’s pillows, dousing the demon that had haunted Schweichen for years into an angel that came with a halo meant to entrance Schweichen, overtake his life.

Schweichen lifted Ricardo’s legs up to rest the bend of his knees on his shoulders. He ignored the sound of displeasure Ricardo made at that, because he knew he was not comfortable, not flexible enough for this. He’d skipped all of his exercise classes after all. Schweichen had let him, being the soft-hearted hyung he was.

“Every time you stole one of my shirts, returned it with cum splattered all over it, did you think I wouldn’t know?” said Schweichen, lifting Ricardo’s dropped hand back and making Ricardo hold his cock, lining it with Ricardo’s own hole. It was a stretch, Ricardo flinched. Schweichen didn't care.

He had to recreate what Ricardo messed up. Their first time would be perfect. Ricardo, still not believing what was happening, spluttered in disbelief; as if his secret of coming all over his hyung’s clothes was worse than that of him violating him.

“How? But I—”

Ricardo was interrupted when Schweichen tip entered him. His throat choked and he gasped at the same time, as if unsure of what to do.

Then came the pain. Before, with the adrenaline, he wasn’t feeling how painful this could be. Now? He was scared and confused, and he’d already hurt himself earlier.

“Stop, it hurts… hurts so much… hyung, stop, please…” He complained, tears staring to stream down his face again, clearly overwhelmed and unsure of what was happening. His tone was whiny, like that of a spoiled brat who refused to do something that they didn’t want to. He'd used the same tone countless times before with Schweichen before. He'd given in, every single time.

Schweichen sighed, because Ricardo was a brat. A spoiled brat of a prince. He’d personally made sure he would grow up as one.

Taking responsibility for his own decisions, he leaned down and captured Ricardo’s mouth using his lips to placate him and distract him from the pain.

Schweichen might have been ‘coaxing’ Ricardo, but he was not soft with his kisses, because his anger had not managed to subside. 

He wasn’t gentle. 

He was nothing like what Ricardo had imagined their first kiss would be like. Gone was the hyung who always held back his power while touching him, gently brushing his hair at night. 

Schweichen was harsh, biting. He nipped at Ricardo’s lips, drawing blood. 

Had he done this? Ricardo wanted to cry at the thought of ruining their relationship to this extent. Had he burned all his bridges? Destroyed the only meaningful relationship in his life? Ruined it so far that Schweichen didn't want to be gentle with him any more?

With blood on his lips, he drove his tongue inside Ricardo’s mouth, kissing him so deep that breathing became difficult. He didn’t give any time for Ricardo to adjust as he licked and sucked on Ricardo's own tongue. To the point where Ricardo started gasping for air. The pace was unrelenting. Punishing. He was trying to devour Ricardo.

Worst of all, it was familiar. Too familiar. As if Ricardo had already been kissed this way.

When Schweichen let go of his mouth, Ricardo immediately went quiet once more. 

“That man… from the dream.” He said, as if something had finally clicked in his head.

Schweichen smiled. It was uncanny, because Schweichen only smiled with genuine affection. This one didn’t reach his eyes. His eyes were just as dark, and remained just as angry as before.

Schweichen lifted him up, lined up his cock. Ricardo had long let go of it. Schweichen didn't care. Without warning, he pushed himself in, until his entire cock was inside Ricardo. Ricardo let out a cry of pain. Schweichen looked at him, unblinking, ignoring his cries of pain, and asked, “Who else would ever be allowed to touch you, if not me?”

Then, Schweichen grabbed Ricardo’s waist, grip tight, bruising and started fucking him.

It felt like everything Ricardo had wanted. It felt like the worst punishment he'd known. It hurt so much he wanted to claw his way out of Schweichen's grasp to escape. It felt so good he wished this is how he'd die, on Schweichen’s cock.

He tried to escape. But he failed. His strength was nothing compared to Schweichen's. 

Meanwhile, Schweichen continued to use his body like his personal cock sleeve, like a rag doll with no feelings. He dropped Ricardo to the ground, letting his aching back rest, only to lift one of his legs straight, causing immense pain in his hamstrings, entered him once again and started fucking him once more.

Throughout all this, he wouldn't stay quiet, either.

“Did you think you could walk away? Like I'd let you? Huh?” His pace somehow got rougher, as if his anger rose every time he remembered how Ricardo had tried to leave.

Ricardo tried to speak, but could only utter a few words, hoping his hyung understood. “But… hyung's marriage, wedding…”

Schweichen chuckled. He sounded like a man on the verge of losing his sanity. “The wedding you never said you didn't want me to do. Instead, you chose to leave me.”

Ricardo gasped in disbelief. “I did! I did! I even made a plan!”

Schweichen slowed down his pace, one hand coming to draw circles on Ricardo’s stomach and pressing down alternatively, where it bulged every time Schweichen buried his entire cock inside of him. The brief touch felt so warm that Ricardo wanted to cum on the spot, but before he could get used to the pleasure, Schweichen would press down, and Ricardo’s mind would fill with pain. It was as if Schweichen was placating him, only to punish him later. His fingers trailed the shape of his cock inside him, hands skating across, like a bird touching still waters while still in flight.

“No, Ricardo,” said Schweichen, with a well timed thrust to Ricardo’s prostate that had been stimulated enough that Ricardo was starting to feel growing pleasure from it, his hips jerking with more power than necessary, “you said I didn't have to marry them. Then,” he said, pressing down on his lower stomach, where they were connected. Ricardo arched his back. It felt so good. It hurt so bad. He was so close to coming. “You made a plan, a plan that’d get you killed.”

As if noticing his building pleasure, Schweichen let off his stomach and started stroking his cock, urging him to come.

No matter how angry, Schweichen was so attentive with him. Always giving him what he wanted.

Schweichen's hands were so different from his own, Ricardo didn't even know why he'd jerked himself off pretending it was Schweichen doing it.

His hands were callused from years of training, and the calluses stuck to his cock, giving him rough treatment, making him flinch a few times in surprise. The friction was unlike anything Ricardo had felt.

He came in seconds, gasping, his cum painting Schweichen’s abs white. Ricardo’s marks on his body were still visible, his cum adding another layer of indecency on top. Like a painting that got prettier as you added more layers to it.

Schweichen’s cock was still sheathed inside of him. It felt a bit uncomfortable, the pain growing intense after how sensitive he’d got after coming. But Ricardo didn’t mind now. 

Schweichen looked like a god Ricardo had dragged down to ravish. He looked impossibly sexy.

Ricardo knew Schweichen was angry, but he still tried to get up to get a kiss. That should have been allowed? Right?

But Schweichen pushed him back down. Ricardo’s heart broke.

Had he misunderstood? He just said that this was something  they both wanted. Schweichen might not love him, but he desired him. Why wasn’t a kiss allowed?

Before Ricardo could tear up again, Schweichen started fucking him once more. Ricardo cried out in pain.

“Stop, stop, it hurts!”

“You ignored me for days, for what?” he said, ignoring Ricardo’s cries, He bent him over, so he could get more of his cock in him. His balls were slapping Ricardo’s thighs. Ricardo’s dick twitched at the thought of them leaving an imprint on his easily bruised skin. The violent pace made such loud sounds that it reverberated throughout the entire room  “A plan that had you dead, and you thought I’d be happy. You thought I’d let you go? And after I said no, instead of coming and apologizing to me, you starved yourself sick.”

Through tears, Ricardo saw Schweichen’s face scrunching up, eyes furrowing. He must be close. Ricardo tried to move, but realized he couldn’t, his arms and legs bruised from the manhandling. His back aching from the overexertion. 

Ricardo’s heart hurt more, knowing how much he’d hurt him. How much he’d hurt the last person he ever wanted to harm. “Sorry, I’m sorry,” he repeated like a madman.

Schweichen's unrelenting pace stayed the same. “Sorry won’t fucking cut it, Ricardo. You’ve betrayed me, time and time again. Atone. Ask for punishment. Beg, Ricardo. ”

“Anything, anything to not have you this angry any more, I’m sorry,” cried Ricardo, through sniffles, opening his heart.

When Schweichen’s thrusts got faster, Ricardo started letting out softer moans, whimpering in between, no doubt in some pain. 

As much as he was heartbroken, he also was aroused once more. It's as if he’d trained himself to enjoy everything Schweichen would give him, pleasure, kindness, love. Even the pain.

When Schweichen came, he plunged himself into Ricardo so deep that Ricardo was sure Schweichen had been holding back so far. The stretch felt like it would tear him apart in two.

Then, Ricardo fainted.

In his last waking moments, he felt someone press a soft kiss to the side of his head. 

He sighed in contentment. “Love you, hyung,” he said.

“If only you did.” said the other man.

· · ─ ·✶· ─ · ·

Schweichen had to learn how to understand people’s emotions pretty early in his life. 

His childhood was spent trying to access how he could use someone's feelings to his advantage. The disgusting men who eyed his mother who were baited with little to no effort into spilling secrets. The little girls who looked at him with a twinkle in their eye, hoping for something more, thinking of them as their special confidante, acting like spies without knowing what the significance of what they were doing.

He'd been uncomfortable, disgusted while doing it, vowing to keep this to himself. 

Schweichen wanted to give the world to Ricardo. A world he wished someone had given him. He wanted to protect Ricardo.  He had to do it, for him.

He’d tried his best to hide it. Ricardo had known anyway. He could see the marks on Schweichen’s hands, the bruises on his legs, smell the perfume on him. He'd frown, wrinkle his nose in disgust. 

He’d hold him extra tight at night, asking him to not hurt himself. Schweichen never listened. Ricardo never stopped asking.

In a way, none of them got a normal childhood. But Schweichen never thought he'd saved Ricardo. He did not consider himself as a saviour.

It was Ricardo who had saved him. He'd hugged Schweichen to sleep. He'd sung half-baked lullabies to him. He’d fought with his teachers, he’d tried fighting his much older and stronger brothers, all for Schweichen. It was brave, it was stupid. But it was lovely, like the rest of Ricardo.

Ricardo was a gem he’d unearthed, only for him to look at, touch, and love. In the middle of a filthy world, a solidarity gem that Schweichen had found and kept for himself. Would keep for himself till he died.

They'd helped each other grow up. As much as he'd spoiled him, Ricardo had done the same.

Sometimes Schweichen wondered if fate would've bought them even if they weren't related. He wondered how life would be like without him, without Ricardo. Ricardo was his heart, the reason he’d come to appreciate life. Schweichen thought he’d be a far different person without him. Crueller. Lonelier.

Schweichen understood what living life felt after finding Ricardo. No praise, no amount of power could bring him greater joy than simply talking with Ricardo.

Hearing Ricardo talk about the books he was reading. Hearing Ricardo gossip about the maids. Having Ricardo beside him in boring meetings, whispering insults and cracking jokes at the expense of the advisors they both hated in secret. His hand would be on top of his, and if Schweichen didn’t know any better, he’d think it was possessiveness that drove this behaviour.

Ricardo, his heart, his star, his little prince.

It didn’t take long for Schweichen to realize what Ricardo felt for him in return. Ricardo had made no moves to hide it, Schweichen had just been too blind to notice. It was obvious, by how someone as cagey as Ricardo told him everything. 

Why Ricardo, who hated being under the sun and working out, would accompany him to practise sparring. He’d be so easy to defeat, just a slight push would have him dropping to the ground. Then, with the same eyes that had captured Schweichen’s soul, he’d stare up at him, pupils dilated, an emotion in them Schweichen couldn’t place till now.

Schweichen knew he was attractive. He'd never cared. It helped him be the person he was. It was the means to an end.

He had no interest in how others saw him, thus, he’d foolishly ignored that hint of emotion in Ricardo’s eyes. 

It was attraction. Not what a brother should feel towards him. Not love, not admiration. 

Attraction. Unabridged, shameless lust. His eyes, dark and deep, would trail over Schweichen’s entire body, often shirtless and sweaty underneath the sweltering sun.

He couldn't help but wonder how Ricardo’s hands always found themselves on him, touching his chest, his shoulder. How Ricardo often ‘fell’ on him, and his hands would be on his thighs, casually groping him.

Feeling his hyung up, like a pervert. Taking advantage of him being Schweichen’s spoiled little brother to not be suspected of any wrongdoings or ill intentions.

Had anyone else done that, touched him, Schweichen would cut off their hands and bleed them dry. Ricardo knew this, yet he’d done it anyway, shamelessly, without any inhibitions, every time he found himself to be alone with Schweichen. Often, even when people were around him. Ricardo’s hands were always on Schweichen, somehow always managing to weasel their way into touching him inappropriately.

Did he think Schweichen wouldn't mind when he found out? Did he think he'd be forgiven like usual? Did he think Schweichen loved him too much to take note or be alarmed? DId he use the blanket of safety being his brother bought him to his own advantage, knowing no one could ever ask him to stop, including Schweichen himself?

It angered Schweichen. The audacity. The impudence.

It angered him because Ricardo’s presumption was right. Schweichen  wouldn't do anything. He couldn’t. He'd spoiled his brother too much, so much that Ricardo had become insolent. Insolent enough to think he could hide something from Schweichen. To think that he was allowed to keep anything about him to himself, away from Schweichen. The arrogance in keeping that a secret, going around hiding feelings of love towards his brother.

Schweichen had only been angry that Ricardo had hid something from him. Ricardo had promised to hide nothing, yet he'd broken his promise.

In his own room, Schweichen had came in minutes when he'd connected everything, just at the thought of Ricardo’s hands on him.

Ricardo, whose hair shone in the hallways hit by candlelight, as he stood on his tiptoes and kissed Schweichen on the cheek, whispering, “good night,” every evening, without fail. Whose eyes twinkled when Schweichen ruffled his hair as thanks to his kiss.

Ricardo’s small, soft hands, that had been placed on Schweichen’s chest just moments ago, when they were dancing. Schweichen knew them better than he knew his own hands. He had a habit of holding onto them when bored, tracing all the marks on them. Not that there were many, they were unmarked by any scratches or calluses, very much unlike his own roughed up hands, because growing up, Ricardo had sulked and pouted until Schweichen had agreed he could get out of sword practice. Schweichen had no other option than to say yes, faced with that pleasant smile and wonderful boy.

All those hands had done growing up was read books. Turn pages, come crying to him over paper cuts, as Schweichen tended to his own bruised and broken body. Schweichen had been prepared to protect those hands with his own scarred ones till the day they died. Schweichen had pushed himself till he fainted from exhaustion every day to be as strong as he could be to protect him.

As if the world was laughing at his dreams, Ricardo ended up as a strategist instead.

Unlike Schweichen, he didn’t need to break his own body everyday to get power. He’d read his books, he’d make notes. He’d observed.

What it did was give birth to the most brilliant mind the kingdom had ever seen. He'd navigate court politics with such ease, Schweichen thought he was born to be the crown prince, instead of him.

He was so well suited to the role even before he was ever allowed to step into society that most who met him found themselves wondering what he could achieve after his debut.

Schweichen's fists clenched whenever he saw Ricardo meeting new people. For years, he'd managed to hide Ricardo like a secret. He was his. He found him, he raised him, he loved him. Others came along and smiled at Ricardo, praised him, praised Schweichen’s hard work, and tried to get closer to his brother. 

Schweichen wanted none of it. He tried to delay it, until he no longer could.

Delaying Ricardo’s debut was one of the few things Schweichen had ever requested of Ricardo.

Ricardo had been pink in the cheeks when he'd asked, cheeky as ever, “Why? Scared of me helping someone else behind your back?”

Schweichen had shaken his head as no. Where had his hand been, when he'd said that? Probably on Ricardo’s waist, as they danced together, practising for his debut. Schweichen had forbidden the teacher to touch him. What had Ricardo’s reaction been at that? “Scared of everyone seeing what's been mine so far.”

Ricardo had excused himself. Schweichen thought he'd been tired.

Once, he'd even heard of people suggesting Ricardo was simply letting him be the crown  prince. Internally, Schweichen had agreed. 

One day, as they both lay in the same gardens they’d both met on that one unfateful day, with Ricardo’s head on his lap, he'd asked what others had been wondering, himself included, “Do you want to be the king?”

Ricardo had shoved his hand away and jumped up to his feet in anger. Schweichen immediately missed the feeling of caressing his hair, like silk slipping through his fingers.

Ricardo’s eyes looked like they were doused in fury, “Do you suspect that too? Like everyone else? Is that what you think of me?”

Ricardo had gone on to curse out every person who’d ever mentioned it. Schweichen had let him rant. Then, from where he'd been sitting, looking up at Ricardo, red-faced and angry, a new Ricardo, but adorable nonetheless, he’d taken his hand. Brought it near his cheek, pressing a soft kiss to the inside of his wrist before leaning his head on it. “I want to give you everything you want. If you want to be king, I will make it happen.”

Schweichen remembered the way red had climbed from Ricardo’s cheeks, traveling from the tip of his ears, to his neck, disappearing below his shirt. He'd mumbled something like, “No, hyung will be the only king I will ever accept,” and settled himself down back into his lap, snuggling in. He’d picked up Schweichen’s hand, the same one he’d shoved away, and placed it on his head, as if asking to be pet.

Schweichen had smiled at his antics. He’d leaned down to kiss his forehead, adoration bursting from his chest.

Had they looked like they were kissing, then? Their faces close, in a secluded garden, with no one to interrupt them?

Thinking of all their interactions, their feelings, this relationship looked like it had never been about a simple platonic brotherly bond.

Especially when Schweichen often found himself wanting to kill anyone who'd come close to Ricardo. His mild irritation had turned to silent anger after Ricardo’s debut. It wasn’t a secret. 

“Common jealousy,” others laughed, when describing it.

It wasn't. It probably wasn't ‘common’ to think of skinning a person alive who'd send a letter to Ricardo with ill intentions. It probably wasn't ‘common’ to burn all the letters your brother got from so-called “suitors.” Schweichen had ensured all of them were banned from even coming close to the royal palace.

Schweichen justified his actions because none of these people were worthy of Ricardo.

Ricardo needed someone strong, who understood his tantrums, his sadness. They needed to be understanding, with near to no ego of their own. Ricardo hated being alone, so they needed to be with him constantly. A workaholic just wouldn’t do. He needed to be assured that he was loved, so they had to have had no previous partners. The person wouldn't put their work above Ricardo, but they needed to be politically on the same level as Schweichen to protect Ricardo, so, a powerful noble who could reassign work to others could do.

That's what Schweichen had thought back then.

Thinking of it now, the answer to who that person could be seemed obvious.

It was him. Schweichen Von Kaizenix, Crown Prince of the Kaizenix Empire.

Who else could it be?

Schweichen would allow no one else to marry Richardo.

His heart had only ever had him in it. Faces blended together, the world disappeared into hues of grays and whites, Ricardo was always different, coloured, full of love. Love for Schweichen.

How would any human alive be able to allow such a person to escape their grasp?

Schweichen could've proposed on that day, on the day he realized. Hold a wedding the very next week.

But Schweichen found Ricardo’s love adorable. Sweet. Innocent.

Frustrating, because he'd kept his devotion to himself, when Schweichen had always bared his heart out from day one.

In their relationship, Schweichen had always taken the first step forward. He'd found Ricardo. He'd brought Ricardo out of his cage. He'd turned Ricardo from a scared little bird to an alluring fox.

Schweichen was called kind and gentle. But he was selfish. He wanted Ricardo to come to him, to stop hiding his emotions. He wanted Ricardo’s attention, he wanted to see more of Ricardo’s endearing attempts at getting close to him.

Most of all, he wanted Ricardo to reach out. He wanted Ricardo to make the first move. He wanted their beginning to be full of the sincerity and purity that defined Ricardo’s love for him.

Unlike his own, full of murky and violent desires no one could ever know about, including Ricardo. To Ricardo, Schweichen was a kind, gentle prince. He wanted to stay that way.

Thus, he waited. Days passed, then weeks, then months.

Days passed, and it was apparent that to Ricardo, unlike Schweichen, their current dynamic was just fine. The same Ricardo, who'd steal his clothes and shove his own fingers inside his ass every night, was deluding himself into thinking this would work. Thinking this would work. That it was fine.

It wouldn't. It wasn’t. Not for Schweichen.

Every time he did it, every time he hid in his room like a weasel finding treasure and burying themselves in a hole, on the other side, in a room connected to Ricardo’s that he didn't know about, Schweichen would fist his own cock, fantasizing about how his hand was his brother’s ass wrapped around his cock. Same brother who was separated with him by a wall, moaning into his own desperate hands, hoping it was his hyung.

It was laughable. It was pathetic. 

Schweichen didn't believe in not having something he wanted. He’d only ever wanted Ricardo. He had him then, when they were younger and they had nothing. He wanted him now. 

He was angry, angry that Ricardo didn't want this as badly as Schweichen did. 

Schweichen's arms physically ached with how much he wanted to hold him, his lips tingled at how badly he wanted to kiss Ricardo, his cock ached everytime Ricardo touched him, or bent over near him, his ass in perfect distance to grab, roughly fuck up into.

His growing anger became obvious as days passed. He'd slip up sometimes. He'd already been pissed, his advisors thinking they had more authority over him. Expecting his usual hug and kiss from Ricardo, he’d exit the chambers, only to come face to face with another one of Ricardo’s stupid suitors all over him, chatting him up, smiling at him. Trying to touch his prince.

Schweichen had lost it. He’d sneaked up behind Ricardo, bent down and lifted him by the shoulder, his legs over his own chest.

“I need my brother,” said Schweichen, as courtesy. The person Ricardo was talking to froze, as if shocked. Shocked? When everyone knew who Ricardo belonged to? 

He needed to kill that fool’s entire family.

Ricardo, who had his hackles raised, arm reaching towards his dagger, had turned pliant after realizing it was Schweichen. 

He’d said, ‘Hyung, missed you,’ in a cheery tone. Ricardo ignored how un-brotherly this was, just like Schweichen ignored how Ricardo’s cock was poking at his shoulder.

As the number of Ricardo suitors increased. Ricardo’s behaviour towards them changed, too. He was no longer disgusted or repulsed like he used to be. He’d stay stone faced. But he was no longer avoiding them.

For the first time in his life, Schweichen felt fear.

Ricardo had been hidden away for years. Schweichen had hidden him away from prying eyes, afraid of someone stealing him from him. Maybe now, after seeing more of the world, Ricardo had understood Schweichen wasn't anything special. 

It wasn't wrong. Schweichen wasn’t special, after all. Ricardo was smart, brilliant and beautiful. Schweichen in comparison was a barely decent warrior, molded into a swordsman after years of toiling away at the grounds.

He wasn't born with boundless talent like Ricardo. He'd worked till his bones broke to get here.

Maybe Ricardo realized that. Maybe he even had someone he loved now, Schweichen mused. 

Their interactions slowly reduced. Ricardo no longer came to greet him.

Schweichen's heart ached.

Desperate, Schweichen had pretended to accept a marriage. He wanted assurance. He wanted Ricardo to react. Ricardo could do anything, throw something, hurt Schweichen, he'd accept it all. He wanted to know if Ricardo still loved him, if Ricardo still cared. He needed a sign 

Anything to make him feel less heartbroken.

Instead, Ricardo had looked at him with pity, with worried eyes, and asked, “What plan can we make to not force you into this?” like Schweichen would ever be forced by anyone into doing anything.

Schweichen had wanted anger. Hurt. Sadness. 

What he'd got was a sense of guilt, no doubt brought on by Ricardo’s sense of gratitude towards him.

Gratitude. Thankfulness. It was nice. It was sweet. 

It wasn’t love. 

Maybe it never had been. Schweichen had deluded himself, like he had when they’d first met. 

Had Ricardo even needed him? With how smart he was, Ricardo would no doubt have paved his own path forwards. 

But what about Schweichen? What would become of him without Ricardo?

Who had Schweichen really saved Ricardo for?

Schweichen had dismissed him, then he'd torn his room apart. He broke things. He punched walls till his knuckles bled. 

He tried again, trying to reach Ricardo. Dancing with someone he didn't even remember the name of. It felt wrong to be touched by them. But he did it for Ricardo.

Ricardo barely looked at him. Instead, he chose to talk to another one of his foolish suitors, leaving when Schweichen appeared, as if hating how his overprotective useless brother had interrupted his romance.

Schweichen had lost it, then. He'd followed him to his room, etiquette and ongoing banquet be damned. He'd crossed all lines. He'd rutted into Ricardo’s cock, he'd growled into his ear like an animal, trying to claim him.

Ricardo had reciprocated. Ricardo had got hard. 

Schweichen thought it was progress. 

Then, Ricardo started ignoring Schweichen.

Ignored him for days.

Seven days. Schweichen's patience wore thin with every passing day. He didn’t want to eat, he didn’t want to hold court. He wanted nothing but Ricardo in his arms. 

But Schweichen couldn’t scare him. His brother was so fragile. He would've been surprised. So he gave him seven days. On the seventh day, Schweichen would drag him out and fuck him in open court, no matter what Ricardo thought of it. He'd make sure the kingdom knew who Ricardo belonged to. 

He'd coax him if he was angry later. He'd pampered that brat too much anyway.

But what greeted him? Ricardo smiling, presenting him with a wonderful plan, perhaps the best one Ricardo had ever crafted, all to make sure his sense of obligation was fulfilled. Because all Schweichen was to him was a saviour, nothing more.

So he'd hurt Ricardo. Let go of his instinct to protect Ricardo, rejected his heart, tore the plans he put all his effort into pieces. Pieces that resembled the pieces his own heart had been shattered into. 

Hurt Ricardo as much as he'd been hurt. Vengeful and petty, but his anger could not be contained. His eyes clouded over and all he saw was anger and betrayal, that too from the only person that mattered. So he spilled over. Got angry. Anger he'd never shown his star.

Ricardo looked broken. When the fog of Schweichen’s anger cleared, all he'd felt was guilt and hatred. Guilt towards Ricardo, and hatred towards himself.

Schweichen understood too late how selfish he'd been, how awful this was. How expecting Ricardo to return his feelings was unbecoming of a prince. His brother needed him to be the crown prince, not Schweichen.

No one had ever loved him for himself. Why would it be different now? 

He had left the room to cool down, promising himself to return as the same prince everyone knew. The prince Ricardo loved. Not as Schweichen, who no one needed.

If that mask was what he had to wear for the rest of his life to be around Ricardo, so be it. He'd come back, as a gentle and kind prince, and everything would be okay again.

He’d promised to kill his own self to continue to get a chance to love Ricardo. Instead, he'd found a near corpse. Ricardo, pale and blue, nearly dead in his stead.

He'd opened the doors of Ricardo’s room to the smell of rot, and medicine. Schweichen did not know how he'd walked to him. Schweichen did not know how he didn't kill everyone in the room for allowing this to happen. Schweichen did not know how he didn’t kill himself for failing Ricardo this way.

All Schweichen remembered was getting on the bed, and holding Ricardo.

“Don't let him die,” he'd said. That's all he'd say that week. It wasn't an order, it was barely a threat, but everyone knew what would happen if Ricardo didn’t live.

Schweichen only loved one person in this world. It was Ricardo. If Ricardo died, Schweichen would burn the kingdom to the ground. He had the strength, the anger. 

Ricardo was his anchor. 

The love of his life.

Schweichen had sobbed. He'd cried for the first time in his life, and pleaded to the gods. He'd stolen a kiss, cried into it like a wounded animal.

The only saving grace, why Schweichen hadn't stabbed his own heart out, was that Ricardo had responded. He'd whimpered into the kiss, as Schweichen knew he would, he'd tried to lick Schweichen’s lips.

Like a scared cat, he'd called out for his hyung. For Schweichen. Like this, half dead and unconscious, he'd wanted his hyung to rescue him.

Schweichen just held onto him tighter. How could he be faulted for falling in love with someone like Ricardo?

Schweichen had promised himself then, that he would never let him go. He'd chain Ricardo down. If meeting others had made Ricardo stop loving him, he'd lock him in a room. He'd force Ricardo to love him back. He could never let him go.

What if this happened again, if Ricardo found love, moved away, and no one took care of him? If he ended up sick, half dead, in a place where Schweichen couldn't take care of him.

Schweichen had a taste, and now he wanted more. No longer could he go on with the illusion of feeling nothing for it. He'd never be loved back, so be it. As long as Ricardo was his till he died.

Schweichen couldn't let anyone have him. He couldn't imagine someone kissing Ricardo like he had without clawing at his own skin in frustration.

Ricardo would probably hate it, but he probably wouldn't say anything because of how indebted he felt towards Schweichen.

That was all he ever felt. Unlike Schweichen, who loved him so much he could die with just a word from him.

In his anger, Schweichen had kissed him again with more force. Ricardo had struggled, but with how usually weak he was combined with his current sickly state, Schweichen overpowered him easily.

When Ricardo woke up, he called for Schweichen once more. 

Schweichen avoided him, not able to look straight at him without trying to jump his bones, and set out to dissolve a sham of a marriage alliance. It had never been of any significance. Ricardo needed not to sacrifice a single strand of his hair to “rescue” Schweichen from it.

Schweichen’s consort could only ever be one person.

That night, when Ricardo approached him by himself, he knew his little prince was up to no good. He'd grown up with this self sabotaging idiot. He knew his tells, how his blinking eyes gave away his nervousness. Regardless, he was responsible for everything Ricardo did, so when he smelled the drug in the tea, because princes got trained for being resistant to drugs, he'd drank it one gulp, pretending to faint. Felt Ricardo’s struggle to tie him up.

Felt Ricardo trail his fingers throughout his body, shamelessly assaulting him. 

It's only thanks to the darkness of the night that Schweichen could hide his smirk at that. His heart wavered, his mind went through so many things.

He'd acted, then. A mask was what Schweichen was best at wearing. It was the greatest performance of his life.

His heart had nearly burst out of his chest when Ricardo confessed.

Same anger from that day had filled him when Ricardo had tried to run, but now that he knew what Ricardo thought, how he was ‘far too high up’ to love him back, some nonsense about Schweichen being his god, too out of reach, thinking he ever wanted to marry that person he only arranged for to make Ricardo jealous, he had grabbed onto Ricardo.

Fucked him, as he'd wanted to for months. Years, if he'd known what love was like earlier. Showed him how much he loved him, because Schweichen wasn't good with words.

He'd ignored all pleas, all attempts at Ricardo’s begging for the first time in his life. Schweichen felt like a monster had been unleashed, a monster that would stop at nothing except to devour Ricardo whole.

Ricardo, his most prized possession. His star, his beloved, his heart. 

Schweichen had noticed everything. How he'd cried on top of him, heartbroken. 

The way his eyes had brightened, in disbelief and then understanding, when Schweichen had told him what he'd done wrong. 

The way he'd lit up in happiness and contentment when he understood that he was loved. How he'd let his hyung fuck him in any way he desired, trusting his body and soul to Schweichen. Even though it hurt, even though he was in pain.

That innocent, sincere love Schweichen so desperately needed, now laid bare open for him to take 

When Ricardo had fainted, he'd kept fucking him, hoping to mark his insides like how he'd marked his body.

When he felt that any more and Ricardo would break, he'd stopped. Because he knew Ricardo’s limits. He knew everything about him. His limits, his pain, where he was sensitive.

He swung one of Ricardo’s hands across his neck and lifted him up by the back of his knees with one hand, grabbed a towel with another.

He ran a bath, to the exact temperature that Ricardo liked, and cleaned him up. 

Settling down in the tub with his chest to Ricardo’s back, he'd gotten distracted at the marks that littered his spine now. All his doing. He started trailing kisses down his spine. Ricardo had murmured something in his sleep, opening his eyes for a minute, then twisting around to kiss Schweichen, eyes closed. Just like that day when he'd fainted from malnutrition.

Schweichen wondered if this is how the kings that destroyed cities for love felt. He wondered if this was why that man chose to cling to a lover he couldn't feed.

He felt so much, his heart felt full enough to burst. 

He'd held Ricardo so tight as they slept that he was sure he'd break a few bones. Fine if he did, he'd nurse him back to health. That way, he could hold him in his arms for longer.

He felt satisfied. Satiated.

Alive.

· · ─ ·✶· ─ · ·

When Schweichen's attendants entered and saw the mess inside his room, they looked up, locked eyes with him and bowed, leaving without lifting their gazes from the floor.

Unlike the brazen attendants Ricardo had managed to collect around him, Schweichen's attendants gave him the due respect a royal deserved.

Ricardo was sleeping peacefully, and very naked, covered underneath brand new blankets, as if an angel had descended down to earth amidst snowfall. The proof of their previous night rendezvous marked every part of his body. 

Schweichen’s masterpiece.

It's not like Schweichen would ever let anyone see him this way.. Schweichen dressed by himself, making a mental note to increase the amount of high collared clothes in Ricardo’s closet. He didn't wake his spoiled brat up, hoping to let Ricardo rest more.

But as soon as he'd left his rooms, an unexplainable feeling of dread filled him. What if Ricardo still tried to leave, unconvinced? What if he didn't like the sex? What if Schweichen had scared him?

Schweichen went back into his room just as quickly. “Don't disturb us, we'll have late lunch,” he barked out to the guards that stood near his door, before closing and locking them.

Ricardo was still sleeping. Schweichen took a sleeping Ricardo with him to settle down on his desk, placing his thighs on his lap, holding him in place.

Schweichen felt more reassured this way.

Ricardo, never the one to let him exist without grief, started misbehaving immediately, moving around, rubbing his tiny ass on Schweichen's cock, tempting him. Even like this, unconscious, he was seducing Schweichen. 

Schweichen could not be blamed for how hard that made him, and how he chose to unfasten his belt to slip his cock out and thrust it inside Ricardo.

That grounded Ricardo.

“Were you made for my cock?” Schweichen couldn't help but wonder out loud, to no one in particular. 

He kept at his work, working at a speed which should have left all of his aides stunned. He felt refreshed. Rejuvenated. Like he’d gone through a rebirth, became a new man. 

When he took breaks, he’d kiss Ricardo, rewarding himself. Indulging in the gift that Ricardo was. Ricardo’s soft skin became red, new marks joined his neck when Schweichen couldn’t hold himself back from biting into his skin to give him a few hickeys.

He was indulging, after all.

· · ─ ·✶· ─ · ·

When Ricardo woke up, he realized he was no longer in his brother's bed. Some idiot had wiped his body clean of his hyung’s cum. His mood immediately soured.

Slowly, as he came to, he realized someone was holding him, and Schweichen’s cock was still in him. He realized that he got so used to it that it was the last feeling his brain registered.

So Schweichen was the one who had cleaned him? His mood brightened at that. 

He looked around. Schweichen pressed a soft kiss on his neck when he realized he was awake. Ricardo was on Schweichen’s lap as Schweichen sat in his personal office, working on edicts and official work. 

Every part of Ricardo’s body hurt. He tried to twist away and get off, wanting to lay down, but Schweichen’s arm was wrapped around his waist, keeping him put.

Ricardo stopped moving. He let him go, grabbing another document to review. 

Ricardo felt miffed at being ignored for the sake of some stupid documents. Gone was the well behaved younger prince he'd pretended to be. Ricardo had been given something by Schweichen, so he'd take more, cross more boundaries and keep taking as much as he could. He would be as spoiled as can be.

Out of nowhere, Schweichen jerked his hips up, as if he'd read his mind and realized Ricardo’s plans.

Ricardo moaned. Then came the pain. He whined, and he turned around to glare at Schweichen, punching his chest in anger. 

He couldn't help but keep looking at him after that. His hyung’s cock was still in him, and he couldn't help but smile at that. 

He touched Schweichen’s face, his finger tracing over the shape of his eyebrows, his cheekbones, then his lips. They were red and bitten, obvious to all that he'd been kissing someone last night. 

He'd been kissing Ricardo. Happy, he grinded down on his hyung’s cock, his head dropped, enjoying the sparks of arousal that travelled through him at the motion.

He looked up once more, looking for Schweichen’s reaction. He was looking at him, eyes curved. 

He placed his hands on Schweichen’s shoulders, got up to kiss him in return.

He seemed to have reverted to his role of being a spoiled younger brother. 

Ricardo didn’t know what god had smiled down upon him, but his hyung loved him, loved him the same way he had. He’d ask questions, a lot of them, but now, he was still the Ricardo who had grown up spoiled by the man behind him.

Schweichen sighed when Ricardo kissed him. Anxiety seized Ricardo, but then Schweichen was kissing him back with such passion that the pleasure it brought went straight to his dick. In just a day, his hyung had grown to be such a good kisser. His toes curled, and he opened his mouth wider, enjoying the way Schweichen led the kiss and held him in place, restraining him.

Just like what Ricardo had dreamed of.

Schweichen let go of him, and placed Ricardo back on his cock, turning his attention back to word.

Ricardo started thrashing around. Schweichen’s dick slipped out of him.

He loved Schweichen like this, serious and brooding. Princely. But after yesterday… he found a new version of Schweichen to love.

Thus started his one-man play. He tried to get up, saying, “Hurts, hurts, hurts, hyung get out! I can’t. It doesn't fit.” 

Schweichen sighed once more, as if used to Ricardo’s antics, his tantrums for attention. He pressed him down on his cock by placing one of his hands on his shoulder. He was using none of his power, but Ricardo found himself unable to move. This was his hyung’s power. The difference in their strengths. “It won’t hurt, we've already done this.”

Ricardo shook his head, trying to move around still. It just made Schweichen’s cock in him reach places it wasn't before, and they both hissed in response when it drove into Ricardo’s ass even further. He pouted. “Hurts from before, don’t want to, pull out.”

Schweichen turned his head to the side and captured his lips. “You won’t let hyung taste you more? Hm?” His tone was teasing, ending on a higher note than it started. It felt like the Schweichen he knew, the sincerity in it, a tone he only talked to Ricardo with, unlike the mask he had on, of the perfect prince. Something only Ricardo could hear. Combined with the undercurrent of what he wanted to do to Ricardo, how he’d just gone about his day with Ricardo still inside.

Displaying the most carnal sort of obsession.

Did the others see? Did everyone know who Ricardo belonged to now?

In response, Ricardo arched his back, titled his head back so he could get kissed better once more. Fucked better.

He wanted to be fucked. Taken against his will. His hyung was too sweet to do it.

His tantrum didn't go unpunished, as he ended up sprawled over the desk with his hyung’s cock ramming into him like it wanted to impale him, forcing orgasm after orgasm from him till he fainted once more. He was smiling throughout it all, physiological tears painting his cheeks red. He looked like a satisfied nymph.

Schweichen was satisfied. Ricardo would only ever be this way with him, in front of him. He would only show this side to him.

Schweichen kissed his forehead to show the love he felt for him. Fucking him, claiming him, would only calm Schweichen down for a while.

When Ricardo fainted, Schweichen went to the bathroom to wash him up again once more. It didn't feel like a hassle, because this was Schweichen taking care of him, like Ricardo had tried to do with his stupid plan. He knew it had been out of love.

A love more gracious than his, because Schweichen could never let Ricardo be happy without him.

He still bit Ricardo’s neck in anger at trying to run. 

A shame, Schweichen could no longer use the chains he'd prepared on Ricardo. The gold would've matched his hair. 

Ricardo stirred, blinking awake. He looked around, and noticed himself in Schweichen's arms. He promptly raised his arms to hug Schweichen, as if their closeness wasn't enough to him. 

Ricardo clung to him, head resting on Schweichen’s shoulder. His waist was twisted, and he wasn't this stretchable at all, so this could not be comfortable, thought Schweichen. Still, he rubbed circles on his back.

“You cleaned me up twice, you're so good to me,” Ricardo said, mouth muffled by Schweichen's shoulder. His hot breath constantly warmed up Schweichen's neck.

“Hm, we need to continue your punishment, after all.”

Ricardo raised his head up from his shoulder to look at him face to face, his eyes glinting in delight. 

Schweichen narrowed his own. “Oh? Enjoying being fucked by your brother? Not afraid of what others might say?”

Ricardo leaned down to press a soft kiss on Schweichen's lips. “I'll kill anyone who objects.”

Schweichen smiled in return, kissing back, forcing Ricardo’s mouth open to grab at his tongue. He found himself obsessed with this, with taking Ricardo’s breath away.

With Ricardo’s life in his hands, his anxieties about his own insignificant existence became negligible. 

To decide the fate of a star made him someone special. 

His hands moved from his back to his ass, fingers entering, opening him up for another round. 

He'd tightened up again, like his hole had to be molded again and again to remember Schweichen’s shape.

Schweichen would fuck him until he did.

“Hyung, I love you,” Ricardo whispered into the kiss.

Schweichen found his prostate. Ricardo shivered. “I know.”