Unchosen Crown

FIX IT TO BREAK IT

A week had passed since those three words finally escaped Ian's lips — the same ones Oliver had longed to hear for so long.

He still felt a shiver run down his spine whenever he recalled that moment. 

Needless to say, the night that followed was the most wonderful and unforgettable they had ever spent together.

Since then, everything seemed to flow almost dreamily.

Oliver discovered a side of Ian he had only glimpsed before — gentle, affectionate, and much more comfortable sharing his dreams and ambitions beyond the walls of that castle. On the other hand, Oliver no longer hesitated to reveal his writings, especially those inspired by Ian.

Occasionally, Ian would whisper "baby" in Oliver's ear.

When the clock struck midnight, Oliver heard Ian's muffled footsteps in the hallway even before he knocked on the door. Eagerly, Oliver tossed aside the covers, the cold breeze hitting his bare arms.

As he entered, Ian's smile was as radiant as the sun after long winter months.

In his hands, he carried two mugs of hot chocolate, steam rising in lazy spirals. As Ian entered, he brought with him the enticing aroma of spices and caramel.

"Laura sent this," he said, settling on the edge of the bed.

Oliver accepted the mug, letting the warmth radiate through his fingers. After the first sip, the creamy liquid warmed his chest, but not as much as Ian's presence.

Oliver watched as Ian placed his mug on the bedside table and stood to remove his shoes and formal clothes, leaving only dark boxers covering his body.

"I missed you today," Oliver confessed after another sip. "Where have you been?"

"I've been reviewing thousands of documents about abdication protocols," Ian revealed casually, settling beside Oliver on the bed. Oliver noted a serenity mixed with the unmistakable weight of responsibility. "Apparently, the Queen is determined to keep the truth under wraps."

Oliver nestled against Ian's chest as he leaned back against the headboard, delighting in his fresh lemon scent mixed with his natural essence. The closeness made Oliver feel deeply connected to him.

"Do you still not know what happened?" Oliver asked, his voice almost a whisper.

"No idea," Ian replied, kissing Oliver's neck slowly, as if making up for the lack of a proper greeting. Then, with his free arm, he wrapped it around Oliver's torso while reaching for his mug. "I only know the Queen wants secrecy."

"Strange," Oliver commented, a bit distracted, as Ian's fingertips slipped into his shirt, the delicate touch on his skin making him shiver involuntarily.

The power he had over Oliver was surreal.

After a long sip of his chocolate, Ian asked:

"Don't you have contact with your brother?"

Oliver did the same before responding:

"Well, Colin and I were never that close," he said. "I haven't seen him since I moved to Paris, a little over a year ago." Ian merely responded with a thoughtful "hmm" as the tip of his nose wove through Oliver's hair, and he smiled at the unexpected contact. "But Alice is my shadow. You'll love her."

"That's right, you have a sister," Ian noted, as if just registering the fact. "Why have I never seen her around?"

"The Queen is skilled at keeping secrets," Oliver explained, turning his body slightly to look at him closely. The disheveled strands in front of Ian's eyes almost distracted him, but he refocused: "Alice is undergoing treatment for depression issues. Things got out of control after my father's death."