Chapter Text
The prince’s day started like any other, his night guard, Sam, knocking on his door.
“I’m awake,” he replied back, tiredness dripping from his voice. His sleep was sporadic lately, which was even more unfortunate since it was his only respite from the preparation for his coronation.
“You sure?” Sam called out from the other side of the large walnut door.
“Yes.”
“Okay, I’m heading out then. Dream is finishing up breakfast and he’ll be up.” With that, the prince peeled the covers off of himself, the cold of the room giving him goosebumps and the comfort of his bed willing him back to rest, but he sighed as he stood and pulled the blanket over the imprinting spot where he had laid.
Unfortunately, the king of Kinoko doesn’t believe in rest days. This is something George knew about his father before he even understood that he was a prince. His childhood bedroom was on the other side of the castle, near his parents’. On nights he couldn’t sleep he would slink down the halls and always saw the light that peaked out from under the door of his father’s study. George doesn’t know if he’s ever seen his father sleep. The only time it seemed that all his worries would drop was when he would plant flowers in the garden, a surprising and undignified activity for a king to participate in. George remembers those as the best days with his father, a carefree smile plastered on his father’s face and pink hairs sticking out of his single braid, a contrast to his usually perfectly tamed mane.
George’s coronation is long overdue, delayed time and time again because of university, traveling, and “not being ready.” His parents supported him through it all, but they all knew the time would have to come. It wasn’t until George started noticing his father slowing down that they began the preparations. The palace doctors have been monitoring his sickness intensely, but are unsure how fast it will progress. George wants his father to rest, so in two weeks' time, he will become king of Kinoko.
George walks towards his large closet and flicks on the light. He looks towards the large chest of drawers and opens the top drawer to the far left side. Different colors of trousers look back at him, he pulls out a navy blue pair with a subtle plaid of black and yellow stripes. He walks towards the mirror on the far end of the room and admires his exposed body before slipping his legs through the trousers. He is sculpted like a marble statue, alabaster skin and all, and he has no shame in recognizing it. In fact, everyone recognizes it, especially Dream. The dark-haired boy hears the knock on his door and turns, quickly zipping up his pants but looking down at his bare chest with a slight nervousness as the knight opens the heavy door and rounds the corner. When greeted with the sight of a shirtless prince he immediately covers his eyes.
“I am so sorry, Your Highness. I should have waited for you to call out,” he panics. Your Highness, the words drip with honey so sweet George feels an ache in his teeth. He has told Dream a million times before that he doesn’t need to address him in such a way. Mostly, he doesn’t… but when he does it is filled with unbelievable tenderness. It is a choice, it does not reek of obligation like every other person who says it.
“It’s alright,” George smiles. “I should’ve warned you.” The silence is deadly and allows time for his thoughts to fester, “Why don’t you help me pick out a shirt?”
“Oh- uh- Alright,” Dream slowly opens his fingers to peek through, making George laugh. Dream steps into the closet and his armor clinks slightly, George can smell sandalwood wafting off him and it feels like a campfire that warms him up from inside. It’s dangerous, the way that Dream could easily thaw his everpresent ice, a strong wall he’s been building since he was a child. George thinks he sees Dream's gaze linger on his chest, but knows it was probably his imagination. The knight turns to his right, examining the long row of button-ups hanging along the wall. Dream gravitates toward the large section of white, taking up practically half the rack. His nimble fingers scan through the hangers, black gloves covering his palms and the smallest strips of fabric threading their way between his fingers. George can’t help but be entranced.
He finally grabs at one shirt, a normal white button-up at the torso but the long sleeves are transparent, tulle covered in lacey white flower details. George slips it on and buttons it, tucking it into his pants. Dream looks down at the shoes and starts to consider a pair while the prince fumbles with his cufflinks, silver metal with circular blue lapis stones held inside. He sighs and Dream stands with a pair of shoes, catching the prince’s frustration in the mirror.
“Let me help you,” he says softly. Before George can protest, rough fingers find the cufflink and start to pinch his left sleeve, his right arm dropping back to his side as he watches the knight’s concentration in the mirror. Only once does one of his fingers brush against George’s wrist, so soft it aches once the brief touch has left. Once Dreams places the other cufflink on his right wrist, George reaches down to tug on his shoes and suddenly realizes how close he has gotten to the knight. He looks up for a second and backs away once he meets sage eyes. He is the sun and George is Icarus, longing but never close enough to touch.
There’s a knock on the door and a familiar voice rings out, “Your highness?” The way it drips with silliness makes the heat start to drain from George’s cheeks, glad for the chill once again. Dream clears his throat and steps out of the closet and stands in the foyer of George’s room, allowing the prince to step out as well and open the door.
“Good morning!” Karl’s smile beams towards both of the men, Dream standing in proper position a foot behind the prince’s right side.
“What is it today Karl?” George’s voice drips with dread but he can’t help but smile at his friend’s unwavering enthusiasm.
“Don’t sound so miserable, Georgie.” The coronation planner starts explaining the itinerary for the day as he turns on his heel and quickly starts walking down the hall, the prince and the knight racing to keep up.