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The street was empty when Dion finally got out of his car.
It hadn’t been a planned choice, that of waiting until the remnants of traffic had dispersed, but rather a fortuitous happening: as a being of extreme routine, Dion had always made it a point of sitting in the driver’s seat of the inconspicuous car he’d rent every time from different car rentals (as to never give them any reason to recognize him on the spot), staring at his phone until the digital clock ticked to 9:00 PM. They had never truly agreed on a time, it simply just… Happened as the days went by, or rather, as the dates went by, because now there was no real reason for him to lie to himself and say that they were meeting for any reason other than the fact that they wanted to.
(That they needed to.)
The bar wasn’t particularly distant from his parking spot, but the walk over was still long enough for Dion to worry about everything that could go wrong between the closing of his car door and the opening of the café’s entrance- Someone could recognize him, despite the fact that his face wasn’t particularly well known (or well liked) in that corner of Rosaria, someone could bump into him while on the way out and spill coffee on him, he could very easily trip on the sidewalk and land unceremoniously on his face- Truly, the list could go on and every single option would either hinder, or completely ruin the night ahead. Both things he sorely wanted to avoid, as the chances of them managing to organize a meeting- A date were getting slimmer and slimmer.
Dion tried to push those thoughts away as he crossed the street, pulling the coat tighter around himself as he bemoaned his idea to forego a scarf on his way out. Not because he was feeling cold (the weather was so much more clement than that in Sanbreque, especially during winter), but rather because it would’ve given him some form of temporary wall to hide behind, a smidge of extra privacy in his needlessly anxiety-inducing walk. Honestly, what kind of man spent this much time worrying over everything? How did Joshua even put up with him, without wanting to smother him with the closest feathery object, or with his bare hands? Truth was, Joshua simply had too much patience with him, and Dion knew he didn’t deserve half of it- He was grateful for whatever blessing it was that had brought them together in the first place and that had gifted the son of the current Rosarian chancellor eternal patience.
How did they even end up like that, anyway? Forced to sneak around like criminals or rats, hoping and praying that no man would ever look at them and immediately recognize their faces? Forced to hold a low profile, no matter what they did. Forced to be apart for months at a time, because either of them visiting would be seen as peculiar. Just another way of saying weird, unexpected, unplanned, unconventional, wrong.
Heaving a sigh, Dion placed his hand on the doorknob, he closed his eyes and tried to will it all away. Concentrate on the good, not on the bad, on what was awaiting him beyond that threshold, not of what haunted him right outside.
How did they end up like that, truly?
---
Their first meeting had been one of pure chance, their gazes crossing briefly at a summit their families had taken part in, and Dion had never felt so immediately drawn to someone in his life- But as the crown prince of Sanbreque (a title that still held so much weight, even in a world that was slowly forgetting what royalty meant), he’d never been allowed to follow up on such things, not when there was a substantial list of people that would give an arm or a leg to spend time with him. How ironic that he’d never be allotted the same amount of freedom as those who had wished to pursue him.
Still, Dion was a good son. And a good prince. He’d always followed rules, never once stepped out of rhythm, never dared push past the invisible walls that kept him rooted on the spot, under his father’s keen eye and society’s magnifying glass… Until he got to meet Joshua Rosfield. One would argue that that had been his downfall, but Dion would vehemently disagree. Ever since the well-spoken, fiery, beautiful son of the Rosarian chancellor had spoken to him the first time, Dion knew for a fact that he’d just started living for real. Never one to take bold-faced risks, the prince suddenly found himself pushing against the boundaries that had been set around him since the day he was born, fighting more with his dad for the freedom that had never been offered to him, arguing with his father about matters that he’d never looked into, clashing with the king over the life that had never been truly his.
A victory to flaunt, a prize to put on a pedestal, a symbol to be lorded over people whenever they’d talk about their own children, making their achievements pale when confronted to those of the young prince- And Dion could only smile, a strained pull of lips over his teeth, a painful exercise of fakery that hurt him far more deeply than he could’ve ever imagined back then. How ironic that it had been someone like Joshua to shake him out of the numbness that had accompanied him for his entire life, how his excited recounting of a theatre play he’d seen just the weekend before had been enough to make Dion think about how wonderful it would’ve been to share in such excitement, how it would’ve been truly nice to have something like that to talk about.
They started texting each other, because the wait between one soiree and the other was simply too long, because they had so much to talk about, because they had never felt such ridiculous ease when talking to anyone else.
And Dion felt so old, so decrepit, even if they were the same age, because Joshua used so many emotes and so many colorful little images to accompany every sentence of his, the liveliness seeping through the screen with every typed word, every little smiling face, while he could only write out his thoughts, or what was left of them after they got through the filter in his head, so stoic and lifeless, that he wondered why Joshua even entertained the idea of talking to him in such a manner.
But Joshua never complained, never stopped writing.
On a dreary Sanbrequois night, in the middle of a snowstorm, Dion smiled at the screen of his phone, idly caressing the glass with his thumb as if he could somehow feel warm skin under his fingers rather than the cold touch of plastics. He smiled, because Joshua had written to him at a godawful time, and he should’ve been long asleep, but he couldn’t miss out on the rare chance of actually exchanging messages with his friend without having to wait hours between one reply and the other.
And he smiled, smiled so hard, smiled until his face hurt, because he was so unused to the feeling of giddiness overtaking him in such a way.
He smiled, because Joshua had just sent him a text that would veer their lives away from the beaten path, without either of them knowing it would.
[Joshua] “Do you think we could meet? I miss you.”
Despite what his father might’ve thought on the matter, Dion was extremely aware of the risks (perhaps overly so) that would come with pursuing such a childish and silly thing such as a friendship, at the cost of ruining his societal standing, at the cost of having people talk and mumble behind his back- But wasn’t that just an everyday affair for the crown prince of Sanbreque anyway? Their house was always targeted by less-than-orthodox photographers trying to snatch a shot or two, Dion himself didn’t know what for, considering nothing of import ever happened around them, but leave it to tabloids to always find something to write on.
Which, in the end, was the root of his problems, of their problems: should they be caught going out together, everyone would be on it like vultures, picking at their relationship until only the bare bones remained, taking away everything that made it meaningful in any way.
But it was a risk worth taking.
They agreed to meet in a small café at the very edge of Rosaria, so that it wouldn’t take Dion too long to get there by car, making his absence as inconspicuous as possible- Even if Joshua had joked more than once about how difficult it must’ve been for Sanbreque’s most sought after bachelor to hide in plain sight.
“How does one go about hiding the most beautiful man in Valisthea?” He had asked, a mischievous smile on his face and a twinkle in his blue eyes as he propped his head up on the table using his arm.
“You tell me.” Dion had answered, tapping his finger against the rim of his coffee cup, brown eyes unwavering as they met Joshua’s gaze head on, a satisfied smile plastered on his face. “How did you manage to hide and come here?”
That had been the first time Dion saw Joshua sputter and lamely attempt to hide behind his hand, muttering something about him being an extremely annoying guy and he knew, without the shadow of a doubt, that he wanted to do this again.
Wanted to meet again.
Wanted to make him giggle again.
Wanted to see him blush again.
---
The extremely familiar smell of coffee beans and old wood welcomed him into the café, his body relaxing almost immediately, as if he’d just stepped into what he instinctively knew to be a completely safe place- Perhaps he’d just tricked himself into thinking that over the years, but it was better than just constantly living on edge and he did that enough when outside.
Dion didn’t have to look far, nor would he truly feel the need to do so in the first place: Joshua always went for the farthest table in the back, the only one that sat in a corner, making it the most intimate spot in the entire shop. It was both a precaution and a selfish decision, because while they truly didn’t want to be seen or recognized, being so separated from everyone else also made sure that they’d have their privacy, allowing them to talk freely without having to fear being overheard.
“And besides.” Dion mused to himself, as he walked past the counter and the confectionery trays, his eyes trained onto the ironically perfectly recognizable mop of reddish hair that he’d started calling ‘birds nest’ most lovingly. “The light that reaches that corner makes Joshua look even lovelier than he usually is, if possible.”
Rosaria’s pride and glory was seemingly busy studying the menu most attentively, as if he’d never seen it before, and there was a measure of fear in the way his head nearly snapped up at the sound of footsteps approaching, but his seeming concern immediately melted away the moment he recognized just who had arrived. “Dion.” His voice was exceedingly soft, but there was no hiding the blatant relief seeping through the forced quietness. “You’re here.” Just as that sounded like a ‘finally’ worded differently.
“Exactly where I should be.” Part of him was well aware that he should’ve sat down as first order of business, but even he could hardly fight back the excitement, the thrill of meeting again after so long- Leaning over was all it took for Joshua to catch on and crane his neck just enough to have their lips meet halfway in a heartfelt, but unfortunately short lived kiss. Lingering any longer would’ve actually caused the very few people in there to get a little bit too interested, or so they feared- And they couldn’t afford the luxury of taking such risks, no matter how minimal they might look.
“I am sorry I made you wait. You know how it is.” Of course he did. This was a tired song and dance, one they knew by heart, every step and every turn carefully considered. It felt stifling at best, suffocating at worst, but it was all they could have and beggars can’t be choosers. No matter how rich, or famous, or influential. “I do. Doesn’t make it any less agonizing, though…” Joshua always had a little bit of a penchant for the dramatic, oftentimes overly exaggerating the little things- Such as just how boring being away on family business was, or how slow the train was moving whenever he had to get out of the capital. The only thing Dion never questioned was how much of a harpy Joshua’s mother was, because he had the (mis)fortune of meeting her once and it had been enough to last for a lifetime- Even if he knew that, were they to truly end up being something more than an extremely well-kept secret, he’d have to learn how to live with her, to an extent.
Just looking at Joshua’s adorably pouty expression was enough to convince Dion that it would be worth it, in the end.
“Let me make it up to you, then. How about I stick around longer today?” Usually, it was his job to be the mature one and put an end to their much sought after meetings. If it were up to Joshua, they’d probably always end up spending the night together somewhere, risking blowing it all up because of a certain overprotective older brother that would immediately get alarmed over Joshua not coming back home for the night and would definitely go around looking for him- Of course the chances of being found by Clive were slim, but never truly null. However, this time around, Dion felt an itch. There was no other way of calling it if not that, an almost annoying need to be there, to be with Joshua, in as much close proximity as he would ever allow himself to have. Perhaps it had been his earlier thoughts giving him reason to hesitate, remembering how excited he had felt at the prospect of dating Joshua, reality then crashing down on him and reminding both of them that they would not be allowed to be free.
Not yet, anyway. So why not make the most of it? Their lives would not change drastically if they spent 20 or so extra minutes together, but every second would be cherished and give them something more to look forward to- Even then, as he offered nothing more than some spare extra time to his most beloved secret, Dion couldn’t help but stretch his arm to reach out and gently place his hand over Joshua’s, relishing in how warm it felt compared to his own. “…How much longer is longer?” A fair question, of course, but knowing him, Joshua would’ve been overjoyed even if Dion’s answer ended up being ’10 minutes at best’.
“A couple of hours. I will end up stuck in horrendous traffic, but for you, my love, I’d gladly face much greater hurdles.” That was his cue to gingerly tug Joshua’s hand, lifting it up to his face for the sake of placing an all-too-light kiss against his knuckles, lingering there a little bit longer than needed, but the warmth and the softness of the skin were alluring enough to convince Dion that there was no rush to let go.
“Ah, my hero. My knight in shining armour, who’d fight tremendous beasts of steel and iron, just to behold my visage a moment longer?” It was evident that Joshua had to stifle a treacherous giggle for the sake of getting that all out, the idea of having more time, mixed with Dion’s completely anachronistic gentlemanliness had been clearly enough to get him high on happiness. “You truly put actual heroes to shame. How come no one’s written a book on you yet?”
“You could be the first. I certainly wouldn’t mind to read what you think of me, my shining armour and my- How did you call them? ‘Strikingly beautiful honey-brown eyes, so sweet you could get cavities’?” Dion wasn’t above the eventual prod, but he would always dress it up as an innocent quip or question, even then he was still caressing Joshua’s hand with his thumb as he watched him sputter a bit in what he knew was feigned offense.
“First of all, I never said ‘strikingly’, and in my defense, y-“ His most vehement counterargument was cut short the moment both of them realized someone was walking towards them and everything came to a screeching halt- Gone was the cozy atmosphere they’d finally managed to build, broken was the contact between their hands, now firmly stuck at the opposite sides of the table. Dion’s eyes had gone slightly wide as he tried to keep his gaze away from whoever was approaching, noticing with the corner of his eyes that Joshua was looking down at the menu opened in front of him, worrying at his lower lip with such intensity that he was almost concerned he’d end up making it bleed.
When the steps came to a halt, an overly cheery voice made the both of them jump slightly as it proudly proclaimed “Welcome to the Golden Feather, Eastpool’s most hidden corner! What can I get you two today?”
The waitress was seemingly blissfully unaware of the terror she’d caused just by walking over to their table to do her job, but at least both of them were prepared enough to deal with this: they would always change their order for the sake of not giving into habit and they often tried to choose different days of the week, so that no single worker there would get used to seeing them around.
Dion sighed immediately after ordering an overly sugary chocolate coffee and a pecan-honey donut that he would never truly be able to digest properly. He was more of a cappuccino kind of man, rarely indulging in anything sweet to go with it, but for the sake of their cover, he’d sacrifice his taste buds any day. Besides, it was not like Joshua was faring any better, looking clearly dismayed as he ordered a ginseng coffee with a croissant made from some weird special cereal-based flour that was apparently all the rage. Go figure how those things worked. Dion idly wondered what kind of picture they painted, two men sitting in the farthest corner of the room, ordering things they were seemingly unhappy about- The waitress must have found them quaint indeed.
Hopefully not quaint enough to give her reason to snoop around.
Once the girl left their table (probably either amused or confused by their apparent struggle with food and beverages they had chosen), Dion cleared his throat, reaching out once more to take Joshua’s hand in his own while trying to put up his best charming smile. “What a way to live, mh?” Fearing corners, getting frozen up whenever someone walked too close or looked their way for too long. “You could say that again.” Joshua was smiling as well, but he still looked a bit tired. “And yet I wouldn’t trade it for anything else.” Somehow, he could hear the unspoken question there, the clearly worried ‘you wouldn’t either, right?’ hidden between words.
“That’s exactly what I wanted to talk about, actually.” Perhaps he shouldn’t have said it like that, because as soon as he did, Joshua stiffened up, his eyes going slightly wide and his fingers tensing against Dion’s. “Before you let your thoughts run amok- I have no intentions of calling it quits. You’re going to be stuck with me for much, much longer, I’m afraid.”
At least that was enough to have Joshua relax once more, every form of worry melting off of him with such ease that Dion had to wondered how often his boyfriend thought about their story coming to an unceremonious end- How they would truly be the only ones knowing it ever existed, how no one else would be able to share in the pains and the joys that it brought.
“No, what I wanted to talk about was… The chance of seeing each other for longer than a few hours.” Now that piqued Joshua’s interest immediately and Dion couldn’t help thinking about how cute he looked whenever something intrigued him. There was a spark in his eyes that simply couldn’t be described, nor recreated. “I thought about our predicament and I might’ve found a way for us to spend an entire weekend together with no one being the wiser.”
“An entire weekend?” Joshua’s voice was almost high pitched when he said that, excitement blatant on his face even if he was clearly trying to not let it show too much. “You’re- Serious? You better not be joking. Dion, I will be so mad if you’re joking.”
“Why would I ever set you up for disappointment? I am not that kind of man and it wounds me that you’d ever think that of me.” It was Dion’s turn to be overly dramatic, even taking his hand away from his boyfriend’s for the sake of looking extremely offended, overly so- Although it was hard to keep the act up, considering that the moment their hands separated, Joshua chased after him immediately, nearly prying Dion’s hands closer again. “No, no, no, I don’t-! I just- I am not good with- I might be a little bit sensitive today, that’s all.” Now that was slightly concerning, but it simply convinced further Dion that his idea had merit- They’d talk about what ailed Joshua whenever he’d feel ready to do so.
“Alright then, all is forgiven, as I also happen to be an extremely benevolent boyfriend.” His boast had the immediate effect of making Joshua huff most adorably, so that was a win in his book. “But, ah, back to my idea. There is going to be a rather important summit in Sanbreque next month and my family will be attending… Without me.” It wasn’t completely unheard of, Sylvestre often seemed loath to bring his son with him on such occasions, probably because it gave people reason to talk about his less than savoury ‘origins’- The kind of negative publicity his father didn’t need. “Which means I will have an entire week for myself. No one would question it if I decided to spend it, let’s say… A weekend in the quaint little village of Lostwing?” Quaint and little were the most fitting adjectives to describe the couple dozen or so houses that made up the entirety of Lostwing, a place that saw its fortune with a very specific kind of tourism: hunting enthusiasts would go there for the sake of finding game that would only dwell in damp forests, but that also meant that the hordes of hunters would come only during specific seasons… And the upcoming month was not one such season. Which meant that the village was half desert and that no one would question or pay too much attention to whoever would decide to spent a couple days there, they’d only be happy to have any form of income during a dry spell.
“Now, the question is… Can you find a way to sneak away from your family for an entire weekend, Joshua?” The Rosfields were particularly interested in keeping him around at all times, mostly due to his poor health, which had plagued him ever since his birth- Something that weighted on Joshua more than he’d ever admit out loud, but there were times in which they had to forego their already rare meetings because of a particularly nasty fever or a strikingly bad cough- And Joshua never, ever seemed to forgive himself for those. “I can- I can definitely come up with something. I-I don’t know, the beneficial effects of forest pine air on the lungs? I don’t know, with the Founder as my witness, I will find something.”
It would do them good. Almost three entire days for themselves, no fear of having to run back home before someone noticed their absence, no hasty goodbyes because the traffic would keep them stuck for more than necessary. The idea of getting to wake up and see Joshua sleeping next to him gave Dion such a powerful rush of unbridled happiness that he had to force himself not to laugh out of the blue- But he couldn’t really stop a bright, toothy smile from appearing on his face. “I’ll gladly vouch for such beneficial effects. Truly, there is no place better suited for someone with chronic coughing issues.” Of course he had no idea if that was a thing or not, but if it meant convincing Anabella to let her son go, he’d swear by it, publicly.
“Then it is decided. We will spend a weekend together.” The word almost tasted sweet on his tongue, sweeter than the cursed donut he had ended up ordering a few minutes prior, so cloying and intense that Dion could swear he’d get a sugar high from it, no matter his age. “Would it be terribly eager of me to say that I already cannot wait?” They had barely worked out the details, there was still a concerningly high chance of Joshua’s parents denying him the freedom- But in that moment, suspended between reality and wishful thinking, Dion dared be happy.
“No, not at all. Not when I am feeling just the same.” Joshua giggled this time, not trying to suppress his giddiness any longer, looking down at their joined hands with such endearment that Dion felt like he was about to start floating in the air.
This time, when the waitress arrived with their order, Dion refused to let go- And he was pleased to see that Joshua was of the same mind, turning his head to thank the girl without loosening his hold, fingers still holding on tightly to each other.
The waitress’ smile gave Dion further reason to hope. If only everyone else could react just the same, if only it could be so easy to simply exist.
There was still much to do and a weekend together wouldn’t solve all of their problems, but it would be the first step in the right direction, one that would hopefully bring them closer to the day when they’d be able to stand in front of their respective families, with their hands joined just as they were in that small, half-forgotten bar and a smile on their faces to boldly proclaim their love for one another.
But for now, a weekend would do.
“Are you sure about eating that donut, Dion? Overly sweet things usually don’t sit too well with you…”
“Ah, well. I don’t break out into hives when I kiss you, do I? And yet, you’re the sweetest thing I know.”
“Founder’s great mercy, why do I even bother…!”
Nearly gagging over the donut’s sticky, extremely sweet syrup for the sake of holding up his flirt was entirely worth it.