Work Text:
Prince Kyle loved ranger Marshwalker more than anyone else. More than he loved the sun above them, the stars at night, and, hell, sometimes more than the kingdom of Larnion itself.
It was truly embarrassing just how quickly he’d captured his heart and refused to let go of it. It only took a mere soft embrace and gentle compliment before Kyle was completely incapacitated, his ears lowered in embarrassment and his heart running a mile a minute.
But, as much as Kyle loved and cherished him, Marshwalker wasn’t perfect. He certainly seemed like it a vast majority of the time, but tonight was one of the nights his greatest bad habit shone through.
Kyle stood, alone, in Marshwalker’s personal quarters, staring up at the clock on the wall. 9:38. He wasn’t quite sure where he was, but he knew exactly what was keeping him out so long. He’d been working himself to death as of late, nervous about Kyle’s upcoming coronation and his own knighting ceremony.
Marshwalker wanted to be Kyle’s personal guard. It had been his dream ever since they were children, playing pretend out in the garden with toy swords and staffs infused with only the most rudimentary magic. The issue was that it wasn’t exactly an easy position to get into, especially for a human, with nearly every knight in the palace fighting for the role in order to get closer to the throne. And as often as Kyle assured him that he wouldn’t want anyone else for the job, he vehemently denied having any favoritism placed upon him. He was determined to get the position through his own strength, even if it meant working himself to death in the process.
So, when Marshwalker walked into his room several hours later than he normally did, visibly exhausted and weakly clutching onto his sword, Kyle wasn’t surprised. Disappointed, and immediately worried for his well-being, but not surprised.
“Prince?” Marshwalker’s eyes widened as he noticed his presence, his sword clattering to the floor with a mixture of shock and exhaustion. “What— What are you doing here?”
“I came to see you, my dear.” Kyle walked over and pressed a gentle kiss atop his forehead. He looked even worse up close, with his cheeks covered in dirt and his face a bright scarlet from overworking himself. “But it seems you had other plans.” Kyle tried to keep his tone neutral, not wanting to let his worry and anger seep through just yet, but Marshwalker picked up on it regardless. He always knew just how to read him, and sometimes Kyle wondered whether Marshwalker knew him better than he knew himself.
“My sincerest apologies, my prince.” He shook his head, eyes flickering between Kyle and the ground in shame. “I was not aware that you were here waiting for me. I would have returned immediately if I had known.” Finally, he decided to look into Kyle’s eyes, and his heart swelled. His eyes were reddened, exhausted to the point he looked as though he would collapse any minute. Without letting another second pass, Kyle grabbed Marshwalker’s palm and led him over to the bed.
“I am not upset that you were not here. You had no way of knowing where I was.” Kyle grabbed his helmet off of his head, and it was clear that it had seen better days. Scratches littering the sides, dirt and mud covering it to the point of making the deep blue look like a dirty brown. “I am upset that you continue to overwork yourself like this.”
“But Prince Kyle, I—” He interjected, voice full of sorrow and guilt. It hurt Kyle to hear him speak in such a manner, so he cut him off.
“You’re training for the knighting ceremony. I’m aware.” He set aside the helmet, and ran a gentle finger through Marshwalker’s hair. It was typically unimaginably soft and well-kept, one of Kyle’s favorite features of his dear knight in training, but it was clear it hadn’t been properly taken care of in a while. “But some things are more important.”
“I do not wish to speak out of turn, my prince, however—” Marshwalker cut himself off with a yawn. Kyle gestured for him to sit down atop the bed, and the both of them took a seat next to each other. Almost out of routine, Kyle grabbed onto Marshwalker’s hand. Sweaty, calloused, and littered with new bruises and scrapes, but still just as comforting as it always was. Marshwalker shot him a smile. “I cannot risk losing this position. Not only that, but if I do attain it, I need to be as prepared as I possibly can. If you were to get hurt or worse under my watch, I would never forgive myself.” A dagger of guilt twisted into Kyle’s heart. He wished Marshwalker would understand that he didn’t need to care for him as much as he did, but after all their years together, he still prioritized his safety above all else. It was unimaginably sweet, but Kyle wished he would value his own well-being above his.
“You’re not taking care of yourself, my dear.” Kyle pulled Marshwalker closer to him, pressing another gentle kiss to the top of his forehead. “You certainly will not be granted the position of my personal guard if you’re dead before the ceremony.” Marshwalker sighed, tugging at the ends of his hair. He knew Kyle was right, he always had, but he never wanted to admit it. Kyle wished he had mastered mind manipulation magic, wished he could get inside his lover’s head and figure out what made him work himself to exhaustion, but for now, he would just have to wonder.
“I suppose you’re right.” Kyle’s eyes lit up with hope, but it was short lived. “If I go to sleep as soon as I get back from my spar with Red and Nichole, then I will get four hours of rest before my next training session. That is nearly—”
“Marshwalker.”
“What’s wrong with that?” The fact that he looked genuinely surprised by his interjection told Kyle all he needed to know.
“You will not be going anywhere tonight.” Marshwalker looked as if he wanted to interrupt, but kept his mouth shut. As complicated as Kyle’s feelings were towards his royal title and Marshwalker’s insistent adherence to it, it was extremely useful in getting Marshwalker to take breaks when he needed to. “Clear your schedule for tomorrow. If anyone gets upset with you, inform them the prince ordered it.” Marshwalker looked terrified for a brief moment, before yawning again. Then, his expression turned to one closer to gratitude.
“Thank you, prince, but are you sure you need to grant me the entire day off? I am a bit tired, however I certainly do not need that much rest.”
“I would grant you the entire month off if I could. Unfortunately, I do not yet have that ability.” Kyle couldn’t wait to be king— then he could force Marshwalker to take as much time off as he deserved. But for now, one day would have to suffice. “But yes, you do need the entire day. Do not try to get around it, either, as I will be with you the entire time.” Marshwalker’s eyes widened, and anyone who didn’t know his facial features as well as Kyle did may not have noticed the sparkle in his eyes. “Once you’ve rested up, I wish to take you to the garden. It’s been so long since we’ve had the chance to go out there. I’ve—” Kyle pulled Marshwalker in for a kiss, a real one this time. It seemed to have taken him by surprise, but he kissed back nonetheless. He wrapped his arms around Marshwalker’s neck, pulling him closer. “I’ve missed you,” he whispered against his lips as he pulled away, as if speaking any louder would ruin the moment.
“I’m so sorry, my Prince.” Marshwalker kissed the back of Kyle’s palm. “I should have thought about how this was affecting you.”
“It is alright.” Because now, with his lover in his arms, it was alright. And Kyle had a sneaking suspicion that with a few kisses and gentle touches, he could make sure Marshwalker would never overwork himself again. “Rest now, so we have as much time as we need in the morning.” Kyle ran his hands through his hair once more, before quickly regretting it. “…And so we have time to figure out your hair situation.”
“Hey, what’s wrong with my hair?” Kyle giggled as Marshwalker laid down in bed. His eyes fluttered shut almost immediately, which wasn’t a surprise given his earlier condition.
“Nothing, dear. Rest well.” He stared down at Marshwalker, and, as if he’d stared directly into the eyes of Medusa, he couldn’t bring himself to move. He looked so cute, finally getting the rest he deserved, and an idea came to Kyle’s mind.
This bed did seem a little big for one person, didn’t it?
Walking over to the other side of the bed, Kyle climbed into it. Certainly more compact than his own bed, even when sharing it with his lover, but it was still comfortable enough. He wrapped his arms around Marshwalker’s waist, pulling him as close as he could without risking waking him from his sleep, and pressed a kiss to his neck. Kyle smiled, brighter than he had in recent memory.
“Goodnight, my dear.”