Chapter Text
The King of the Elven Kingdom faced the same insurmountable obstacle each and every day.
“Apologies, your highness, but may you pass me the salt?” The knight asked him as Kyle at his dinner, his tone indicating he was apologetic for asking even such a simple favor.
Stanley Marshwalker. The highest ranking knight of Larnion, one of the only humans residing in the Elven Kingdom, and Kyle’s own personal guard. He valued the king’s safety much more than his own, as much as Kyle reprimanded him for it, though he was by far the best guard the king could have ever asked for.
And oh, how Kyle loved him. Treasured him above all else, second to only the kingdom he ruled.
“Your highness?” Stan repeated, his shimmering sapphire eyes staring at him with concern. A small drop of red wine dribbled from his fading smile, and Kyle couldn’t tear his eyes away as much as he desperately tried.
That was the issue that plagued him so deeply. A king couldn’t fall for his guard, especially not when that guard wasn’t even of elven blood. It was one of the unwritten rules of being a member of the royal family, and as foolish as Kyle believed those rules were, his kingdom always came above all else. Admitting how deeply he’d fallen for his dearest Marshwalker would cause distrust to brew of both him and Stan, and it simply wasn’t worth it to put his kingdom in jeopardy over something so trivial. He couldn’t possibly do that to Stan, either— he was already looked down enough for simply being a human in the elven kingdom, and Kyle could only imagine just how much the persecution would worsen if word of his feelings got out.
So, as much as it hurt his heart, Kyle kept his feelings buried deep in the chambers of his mind. It was better for everyone that way, and he silently hoped that maybe with enough patience, they would fade away entirely.
“King?” Stan repeated again, concern littering his voice. “Are you feeling alright? Perhaps we should call this dinner early so you can get some rest?” Kyle shook his head, taking those unwanted romantic thoughts with him. That was his Marshwalker— always giving him the utmost care and respect. His heart swelled with a mixture of positive and negative emotions that felt impossible to categorize.
“I appreciate your concern, but I’m quite alright.” He finally passed Stan the salt shaker, and turned back to his own dinner in a feeble attempt to avoid looking into Stan’s impossibly charming eyes any longer. He took a few bites as he listened to the idle chatter of everyone else at the table, and successfully managed to calm himself down from his outburst. He had to learn how to better manage his feelings, or he would eventually get caught red-handed one of these days. The rest of the dinner passed by as normal. He and Stan spoke about their day as Kyle tried his hardest not to get lost in his adoring eyes or his sweet smile, until everyone else in attendance finished their meals and returned to their quarters. Kyle waited for Stan to offer his goodbyes as well, the closeness between them starting to creep up on him once again, but he instead clutched his stomach with a hurt expression. “Is something wrong?” Kyle stood up and peered down at his knight, making sure to offer him the same amount of care Stan always offered him.
“Just feeling a little ill, it’ll pass.” Stan stood up from his chair and looked at him with a determined smile. “Thank you for your concern, though.” The two looked at each other for a few seconds, neither saying a word as they did so. Kyle knew he needed to stop staring, knew that he was putting a lot on the line in exchange for a selfish indulgence, but he couldn’t stop himself. It didn’t seem that Stan minded, staring at him with adoration and making no attempt at getting him to reply.
“You always offer me the same care, it’s only natural.” Kyle finally broke the gaze, shifting his eyes between the floor and the wall behind them. “I’ll talk to the chefs, perhaps they changed an ingredient in your dinner.”
“There’s really no need for that, it’s not a—” Stan cut himself off as he froze in place, his face paling ever so slightly. Kyle clenched his fist; he was going to have a stern talking to with whatever chef had done this to his dearest knight.
“Allow me to walk you to your quarters, I think you need some rest.” He grabbed Stan’s hand before he could allow himself to think about the consequences, and began to walk him up the palace’s stairs to his bedroom.
“I appreciate your kindness, but I still have other duties to attend to tonight. I can’t just go to sleep when there’s so much work to be done!” Despite his words, Stan didn’t make any attempt to let go of his hand or move away.
“I’m granting you the rest of the day off. You always work so hard, you’ve more than earned it.” Stan looked at him with shock, his eyes sparkling with adoration. He looked as if he was about to protest, but he knew better. He often tried to resist being given things like time off or simple gifts, but Kyle was always adamant that he take them. It was painful to see him working himself to death the way he did, and that simply wasn’t something he would allow in his kingdom.
“Thank you, your highness.” Stan smiled at him, bright and thankful. He ran a gentle thumb across the back of Kyle’s hand, and, intentional or not, it made his heart flutter in his chest. “You’re too kind.”
“No, I’m not.” The two reached the room labeled ‘Marshwalker,’ and Kyle used his free hand to turn the knob. “I’m just treating you with basic respect.” Stan didn’t attempt to argue, instead passively following Kyle into the bedroom. He situated himself on the bed, and switched on the fire-magic fueled lamp on the desk next to him. He looked as if he was about to say something, probably offering him yet more praise for such a simple nicety, but no words came out of his mouth. He blankly stared up at Kyle, his eyes unusually lifeless. Kyle had well familiarized himself with Stan’s eyes by this point, through a mix of their time spent together and sneaked glances when he wasn’t paying attention, and he had never seen them so devoid of life. It scared him, admittedly, sending a worried shiver down his spine as he considered the possible implications of this. Could he have been poisoned? Fallen seriously ill? Worst-case scenarios clouded Kyle’s mind, and he was quick to speak up. “Stay here, I’ll have the mages check you for any spells. You don’t look well.” His expression didn’t change, still staring at him with blank eyes. Kyle couldn’t have rushed to open the door fast enough, but his hands froze on the doorknob as Stan finally spoke up.
“Have I ever told you how beautiful you are?” Kyle turned back to face him, alarmed by such a shift in tone, only to find that Stan’s worrisome gaze had faded away. It had been replaced by a bright, giddy smile and widened eyes filled with such sickening amounts of affection that Kyle had to look away, lest he be burdened with even more traitorous thoughts.
“I… don’t believe so?” Stan’s words didn’t quite feel right, and Kyle was still unconvinced he hadn’t been put under some sort of mind-altering spell. This was so sudden, especially from someone like Stan, always addressing him with the utmost respect and authority despite Kyle’s assurance he didn’t need to. Even despite that, he couldn’t help the way he smiled upon hearing them, his heart once again betraying him and doing backflips in his chest. He’d received many compliments on his appearance before, though it was difficult to tell how many of them were genuine and how many of them were poor attempts at sucking up to him to get closer to the throne, but never one from Marshwalker himself. The words immediately implanted themselves in the forefront in his brain, repeating over and over again like a mantra.
Beautiful. Stan thought he was beautiful. He couldn’t believe that was coming from someone like Stanley Marshwalker of all people, with his shimmering sapphire eyes and fluffy jet-black hair. To Kyle, Stan was the embodiment of beauty itself, though he’d never admit it aloud.
“Well, you are.” Stan giggled, uncharacteristically, then made his way over to the door near where Kyle stood. Before he had the chance to order him to stay in bed and rest, every thought he’d ever had died in his throat. Stan leaned in and pecked him on the lips. Kyle’s eyes widened, stumbling backwards with an embarrassing display of shock and giddiness. It was over impossibly quickly, not even giving him time to soak in the reality that Stanley Marshwalker had just kissed him. The experience was slightly soured with the knowledge that this was almost certainly the result of whatever ailment was plaguing him at the moment, but it was still overwhelmingly wonderful. Serene. Perfect, like everything he’d ever imagined it to be and more. He shouldn’t have been having these thoughts, shouldn’t have been brightly smiling at his dearest knight, and most certainly shouldn’t have wanted to pull him in by his helmet and kiss him again, but the sheer shock of the situation rendered him unable to care about such things in the moment. Perhaps, just this once, he could allow himself to indulge in his feelings. For just one split second, he could let himself love Stan without consequence. And it was the best damn second of his life.
“Can’t believe I’ve never kissed you before,” Stan murmured against his lips. Like a drug, Kyle couldn’t move or speak, enduring every second of whatever the hell was unfolding in front of him. “I love you, Kyle.” Stan moved a hand up to his hair, running a finger through a curl that wasn’t hidden by his crown.
Charm spell, Kyle realized later than he probably should have. That has to be what this is. The sudden compliments, kissing him out of absolutely nowhere, calling him by his first name— all obvious symptoms of a charm spell or love potion, and an unusually strong one at that.
“You’re coming with me,” He forced out of his mouth, unsure if his heart could take any more of this. Kyle hated the way he felt saddened by the realization that this was all the result of love-manipulation, as if deep in his heart he had hoped this was truly the way Stan had felt about him. He quickly shook the thought aside; he didn’t have time to worry about things like that right now.
“Okay!” Stan happily obliged, wrapping his arms around Kyle’s waist and looking up at him. “Where are we going, Ky?” Kyle had to force himself to look away, the sheer love shimmering in Stan’s eyes doing unspeakable things to his heart.
This was going to be more difficult than he thought.
“Ky?” He sputtered, completely taken aback. Charm spell, he reminded himself, though that did little in the way of calming down the fluttery feelings that flooded through his body at the nickname. It had been overwhelming enough to hear Stan calling him by his first name at all, something he had always vehemently refused to do, but a nickname? It was so unlike Stan to say, yet it still sent warming shivers down his spine nonetheless.
“Yeah, cute, right?” He tightened his grip around Kyle’s waist, the giddy smile plastered across his face not getting any lighter.
“Sure.” Kyle waited idly for a few seconds, hoping Stan would choose to let go himself so they could make their way out of the room without being completely ridiculed, but he didn’t seem to have any intention of moving. Kyle sighed, preparing himself for what he presumed to be a very long and annoying conversation. He’d heard that dealing with people under charm spells could be very difficult, and with Stan under the influence of one this strong, he didn’t exactly anticipate this to be easy. “You can let go of me now,” he started simply.
“Mmm, no thanks.” About what he had expected. “You’re too pretty for me to let go.”
“Ah, thank you?” Kyle hated the way he felt his face warm at such a simple comment. He mentally weighed his options, even briefly considering just stepping out into the commons with Stan attached to his waist like this, before he remembered something he’d learned in his brief training on how to properly deal with people afflicted with love potions or charm spells.
You must feed into their delusions for the period of which they’re afflicted, or until an antidote can be safely administered. Otherwise the patient may become hostile and violent, as the spell or potion has significantly altered their brain chemistry to fixate on the person the spell or potion has forced them to.
It felt almost wrong. As though he was taking advantage of his dearest Marshwalker being in such a state, and using it for his own selfish romantic desires. He debated with himself for a while, attempting to think of any alternatives that wouldn’t result in either of them being injured, but came up empty handed.
“I’m sorry, Stanley,” Kyle mumbled, mostly to himself, his first name slipping past him with a shocking amount of ease. He played with the way the name felt on his tongue, and found himself smiling as he lingered on the thought. It wasn’t as if Stan ever had to know, did he? “I promise I’ll make this up to you once you’ve recovered.” Stan cocked an eyebrow at him, and he continued before he could he questioned. “If you let go of my waist, I’ll… I’ll kiss you.” Kyle winced as he said the words, a light wave of guilt hitting him. Stan, meanwhile, looked as if he was in heaven. He released his hands from his waist immediately, looking up at Kyle with a want so intense he wasn’t sure he’d ever seen anything like it before. He leaned down and gently kissed him on the lips, feeling just as warm and fluttery as he had the first time. He tried his very hardest not to feel anything, reminding himself that this was a necessary evil in getting Stan cured, but as it always seemed to do, his heart betrayed him. Skipping a beat in his chest, forcing his mind to only think about how warm and sweet Marshwalker’s lips felt on his own. He pulled back quickly, in a poor attempt to get those traitorous thoughts to leave him alone, and took Stan’s hand as he led him out the door and down towards the commons.
“You have such nice hands, Ky.” There was that nickname again. He could get used to it, if he was being quite honest, though he knew that a sober Marshwalker would rather die than call him anything so informal. “They’re very soft.”
“I quite like your own.” Kyle spoke without thinking, allowing his true feelings to spill out for a minute. He supposed he may as well finish his thought, as he doubted Stan would let that off the hook in the state he was in. “They’re very rough and calloused. Shows how diligently you work.” Stan looked up at him, for a moment looking like his regular self. Eyes widened, a shocked expression, and face flushed ever so slightly. Just as beautiful as he always looked.
“Thank you, your highness.” Kyle raised an eyebrow. It appeared that whoever had cursed Stan hadn’t done a very great job, if inconsistencies like this were already this glaringly obvious. The two made their way downstairs, thankfully without further comment from Stan, and Kyle looked around for any expert in curses and potions that would be able to help him. He didn’t want to have to call an assembly for this, not wanting to cause Stan any further embarrassment when he recovered from his condition. Just as it was starting to look as though it might be a necessary evil, Kyle’s eyes locked with just the person he needed.
Jimmy Valmer, the kingdom’s highest ranking bard and expert in curses and potions. Quite possibly the perfect person to deal with this nightmare.
“Valmer.” Kyle called out, and the bard quickly turned to face him.
“Hey, King. What’s up, something the matter?” He stuttered out. If he was being honest, Kyle had always preferred the more casual way Jimmy addressed him to the pure formalities Marshwalker and the other knights used when speaking to him. It made him feel more down to earth and like an average Larnion citizen, rather than being regarded as nearly god-like simply due to his blood.
“I need your help. I believe Marshwalker here has been afflicted with either a charm spell or a love potion. Could you run a check for me? I don’t want it to get any worse.” As if on cue, Stan once again latched himself onto Kyle’s waist, staring daggers at the bard across from him.
“Ooh, a love potion? Someone’s got drama! Who’s he in love with? One of the new warriors? Or one of the knights he’s friends with? Or maybe it was that really hot human princess? Or—”
“Me. It’s me.” Kyle knew that if he didn’t say something Jimmy would keep going on forever, and he didn’t necessarily enjoy hearing about people that could have potentially been in love with Stan. For no particular reason, of course.
“Really?” Jimmy looked at him with a mix of suspicion and shock, before waving it off with a shrug. “I’m not one to judge, but I really wouldn’t have expected that from you, your highness. If you wanted Stan to fall for you you could have just come to me, I know a thing or two about—”
“ I didn’t do this myself!” Kyle raised his voice, almost offended at the implication that he would ever stoop to something so low. “He felt ill after dinner, and after I took him to his quarters he started, well—” Kyle gazed down at Stan, still aggressively glued to his waist, and realized he probably didn’t need much further explanation. “Doing this. ”
“Oh, I see.” Jimmy still looked like he didn’t believe him, his tone almost sarcastic, and in any other circumstance Kyle would have reprimanded him. But he was so emotionally overwhelmed by everything that had just happened in the past few minutes that he didn’t have the energy, and just wished to get Stan cured before he could be burdened with any more romantic thoughts creeping up on him. “Well, love-manipulation spells and potions are easy to check for. I do need his hand, though, so if you wanna get him off of you, that would be great.” Great, he had to deal with this again. Except this time they had a witness, so it would be even more difficult to get Stan detached from him without doing something to get him mocked for all eternity.
“Why’re you talking to him so much?” Stan mumbled, annoyed, still not breaking eye contact with Jimmy. “I thought you loved me?” Wow, this curse must have been even stronger than he’d thought. Kyle hadn’t had much experience with love manipulation himself, but even he knew this was irregular. It was supposed to be believable, like the feelings were natural and there wasn’t magic involved at all. This was anything but, with Stan acting almost as a completely different person.
“I do love you.” Kyle pretended not to notice the way Jimmy nearly laughed at him as he spoke, and focused on calming down his exceptionally clingy knight. “I just need him to check you for magic, okay? You need to let go of me so Valmer can examine you.” Stan finally broke the death glare he was giving to Jimmy, at the very least, and stared up at Kyle instead.
“Will you kiss me again?” Dear lord. The one thing he’d hoped Stan wouldn’t say out loud, and he’d done it in the most direct way he could. Jimmy was in hysterics across from him, and even though Kyle’s eyes shot daggers at him, he refused to quiet down.
“Not a word.” He commanded as the bard finally began to calm down from his laughing fit. “It was the only way to get him to listen to me. Whatever he’s been afflicted with, it’s incredibly strong.” He leaned down and gave Stan one more peck on the lips, and sighed with relief as the grip on his waist loosened.
“I can tell. Whoever gave him this, who I totally believe wasn’t you, must be really inexperienced. This is the strongest love manipulation I’ve ever seen, there’s no way someone would believe this.” Jimmy took his lute into one hand, and held Stan’s palm in his other. Stan looked about ready to murder him and run back into the king’s arms at any second, and Kyle could only hope this ended quickly. “Let’s get this over with, then.” Jimmy played a gentle song on his lute, a familiar tune Kyle had heard many times before, until a sufficient amount of magic had been built up. He shut his eyes, squeezing Stan’s palm and focusing deeply, until he opened them with a worrying amount of shock.
“What is it?” Kyle asked, worst-case scenarios flooding his mind once more. If even the head bard who regularly dealt with scenarios like this seemed worried, that certainly couldn’t have been a good sign.
“It’s a well-crafted love potion, made with phoenix feathers, dragon’s blood, and some other gunk I can’t remember,” Jimmy stuttered out. “It’s not too difficult to cure, I can have one done in about twenty minutes and he’ll be fine by morning.” That sounded wonderful. This nightmare would be over by morning, and Kyle could focus his energy into figuring out who had dared do something like this to his dearest Marshwalker. But that didn’t explain why Jimmy had looked so shocked, did it? “But I, uh, have something to tell you.” Stan scampered back over to Kyle like he couldn’t live even a second without him, and interlocked their fingers together once more.
“And what could that be?” He prayed that whatever it was, Stan wouldn’t be harmed. Kyle could never live with himself if Stan ended up permanently injured because of this.
“Well, the potion used is actually pretty difficult to tell apart from real love. But as you can see, uh—” Stan leaned down and kissed Kyle’s hand, then nuzzled himself against Kyle’s shoulder like an affectionate animal. “Yeah.”
“So why is it affecting him like this? Is his immune system unable to handle love manipulation?” That thought only made Kyle want to get Stan an antidote even faster, as much as he was secretly enjoying seeing him like this.
“That’s what I thought, but nope. From what I could gather, the potion was missing the dragon scales that typically ensure it will work even if pre-existing feelings exist from the person taking it.” Pre-existing feelings? Could that mean Kyle himself had caused this to happen? His traitorous feelings had come to attack him once more, this time bearing real tangible consequences. Guilt swelled in his chest, hitting him like a tidal wave, and it was difficult to even speak.
“What do you mean by that?” Kyle wasn’t even sure he wanted to know. He knew he didn’t, in fact, but he had to push for Stan’s sake.
“I don’t know how else to break this to you, but Stan’s, like, totally in love with you. Love potion or not. That’s the only explanation for it affecting him like this.” What? That wasn’t what he expected, and Kyle wasn’t sure what to feel. How could he? Stan was in love with him. Even after all these months of secretive pining behind closed doors, he’d never entertained the thought of Stan ever reciprocating his feelings for longer than a passing second. He still couldn’t quite believe the idea, wanting to reject it for his own sake. Wanting to believe that his sweet Marshwalker had fallen for someone else, as much as it hurt, so he could have an excuse to finally let his feelings cease.
But Jimmy was the professional here, wasn’t he? He was most likely telling the truth, as impossible as it was for Kyle to believe.
“I see.” Kyle’s heart was running faster than it ever had, and his brain clouded with every emotion imaginable. If Stan reciprocated his feelings, then could he finally allow himself to indulge in them? But that still didn’t solve the issue of the relationship breaking the unwritten rules of elven royalty, and would it really be right of him to place his own love over the prosperity of his kingdom?
“Of course I’m in love with you!” Stan, having no idea the effect his words were having on Kyle, beamed. “I’d love you no matter what, Kyle. You’re beautiful, smart, talented, and a wonderful ruler. You’re also very pretty, did I mention that?” Kyle’s throat made an uncategorizable noise, and he held onto Stan’s hand for dear life. Jimmy must have noticed his poor attempt at hiding his lovestruck dilemma, and spoke up.
“Do you love him too?” His voice was calmer and more genuine than it usually was, not a hint of sarcasm or ill will in his tone.
“Not a word,” Kyle repeated, more threatening than he had been the first time. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust the bard, it was that he didn’t even want to think about the fallout that would occur if this information got out. “Or I’ll have your head.”
“Alright, alright, geez. Just wondering.” Jimmy smiled at him, and it momentarily made Kyle feel just the slightest bit better about the situation he found himself in. “You two have fun. I’ll bring up the antidote as soon as it’s finished.”
“Bring it to my quarters.” Kyle softened his tone, biting back his feelings for just a moment. “And thank you for your service.”
“You’re taking me to your bedroom?” Stan looked at him with a bright smile. Even in the state he was in, he still shared the trait of getting overly excited over simple things. And even now, it was still adorable. Kyle smiled back at him.
“Yes, I can’t leave you alone in this state.” A part of him wished that wasn’t the case, as dealing with the dilemma he was faced with would be much more difficult with Stan fawning over him the entire time, but an equally large part of him was content. Lying alone with his favorite person in the world, sharing a bed as they drifted to sleep together— it made his heart skip a beat in his chest.
Would it really be so bad if they were in a relationship together? For once, Kyle didn't immediately shove the thought to the back of his mind. He lingered on it for a moment, finding more positives than negatives of the proposition.
“You’re welcome,” Jimmy answered after a while. He was looking at him with a smirk, and Kyle suspected there must have been some sort of tint on his face to indicate the way he was feeling right now. “And, uh, good luck. Hope everything works out.”
“Thank you, Valmer.” Stan tugged on his hand, clearly eager to be alone with him once again, and who was Kyle to deny him that? He led him back upstairs and into his personal quarters, quickly shutting the door behind them.
“Go ahead and lay down, you’re going to need a lot of rest.” Stan was quick to listen to him, setting his helmet on the nightstand and snuggling himself onto the left side of the stupidly large mattress. Kyle had always found the size of his bed to be yet another useless display of his status, but seeing Stan so comfortable and knowing there was more than enough room for both of them to lay next to each other made him rethink it just a bit. “Just don’t fall asleep quite yet. You’ll need to drink an antidote prepared for you by the bard.”
“Antidote for what? I feel perfectly fine.” Stan sat up, thankfully changing the subject so Kyle didn’t have to explain anything. “Are you going to come lay with me? I want to hold you.” With his conversation with the bard taking up most of his energy for the past while, Kyle had forgotten just how much this love potion had messed with his own heart. And now, knowing that there was a very real possibility that this was how Stan genuinely felt about him, it increased tenfold.
“Of course.” He couldn’t have reached the other end of the bed fast enough, situating himself underneath the covers. Almost instantaneously, Stan’s arms found their way around Kyle, pulling him closer as he rested his head on Kyle’s neck. He had never been held so intimately before, certainly not by someone he cherished as dearly as Stan, and he mentally cursed himself for missing out on such a wonderful experience for so long. “You’re beautiful,” Kyle realized he’d let those words slip from his mouth all too late, but he couldn’t muster a care within him. Stan felt the same way, after all, didn’t he? He doubted he would protest, even if he were in a sober state.
“Really?” He looked surprised to hear that, as if he wasn’t the most beautiful person Kyle had ever laid his eyes on. “That’s shocking to hear from you, your highness.”
“Why? You have the most heavenly eyes I’ve ever seen, your hair is, ah, cute, for lack of a better word, and your smil—” He was cut off as Stan closed the miniscule distance between them with a kiss. It lasted longer than their previous ones, though not by much, but Kyle was still left with an overwhelming feeling of want. Almost as if he himself were under the influence of a love potion, Kyle leaned in again, reveling in the warm feeling of Stan’s lips pressed against his own.
To hell with the rules, Kyle decided as he opened his eyes. Stan’s shimmering sapphire eyes were staring at him with a sweet cocktail of surprise and affection, and, like always, it was impossible for Kyle to tear his gaze away from them. Only this time he didn’t make an attempt to— simply indulging in the warm, giddy feeling in his heart. I love him, and he loves me. I couldn’t care less if the kingdom disapproves. For him, it’s worth it.
“I finished the antidote early, so I— oh!” Kyle’s head whipped around as fast as possible, though with Stan’s arms unmoving from his waist it didn’t do much in the way of hiding what they were doing. Jimmy smirked at him, and Kyle hated that he hadn’t had the forethought to lock the door.
“Please learn to knock.” Kyle didn't have the energy to offer him anything more than an exasperated sigh.
“Nah.” Jimmy walked over to Stan’s side of the bed, handing him a small goblet of clear liquid. “That’s the fun part.”
“What is this for?” Stan asked, noticeably directed at Kyle rather than the one who had handed it to him in the first place. It appeared he still hadn’t quite gotten over his jealousy.
“Just to make sure you don’t fall ill in the near future,” Kyle lied through his teeth. “I wouldn’t want anything to happen to you, dearest.” That seemed to convince him, quickly drinking up every last drop of the antidote. Kyle was just grateful it hadn’t been as painful of an effort as he’d been expecting.
“Well, I’ll leave you to it then.” Jimmy winked at him as he shut the door behind them, making sure to lock it when Kyle himself hadn’t. He rolled his eyes— he loved Jimmy, he really did, but dear lord could he be insufferable.
“I really love you, Kyle,” Stan said suddenly after a few seconds, pressing a gentle peck to the top of his forehead. “I love you so much.”
“I love you too. More than anything.” Kyle didn’t even need the thinly veiled excuse of keeping Stan content anymore— he could be fully honest with his feelings now. Because Stan loved him too, as difficult as it still was to believe. Stan loved him too, and Kyle wasn’t afraid to face backlash from his citizens anymore. They still had a lot to discuss, but they could do it together. And when thinking about it through that lens, it became a hell of a lot less scary.
“You’re so pretty.” Stan repeated for the umpteenth time, as if Kyle could ever possibly let those words leave his mind. “So—” He cut himself off with a yawn, most likely the result of the antidote’s effects. “So pretty.” He shifted himself to lean on Kyle’s shoulder again, pressing a gentle peck to his neck before peacefully drifting off to sleep.
Together. They were going to overcome this together. Kyle smiled with a warm hope, for once shameless and unafraid of his feelings for his dearest knight.