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Dennis Reynolds doesn’t want to get married.
Or, well, he supposes he just doesn’t want to be married, or go through all the rituals and pretenses and awfulness that follows when his marriage, when his wedding, is doomed to be a royal one.
He supposes he enjoys plenty of the benefits of being part of the royal family, benefits that make up for the worst parts of it, being his parents. His parents are awful rulers, and they’re even worse parents, which is almost impressive, but as of late, they’ve shifted their attention, like they always do every couple of years, choosing what exactly they’re going to torture their children with this time, and this time, it’s the royal duty of being married off.
Simple as that, really. Sometimes they pretend it’s for some bigger purpose, although they all know it’s because their greed controls it or their desire to make Dennis and Dee miserable. Once again, it shifts every once in a while, the most predictable thing in the world.
Dennis isn’t going to let them control him, though. He’s already made up his mind, and he’s been refusing every offer and will continue to do so until they hopefully will get tired of trying and just accept it and leave him alone. Hopefully. It has to happen, eventually.
See, their parents, they like to make things as difficult for them as possible, which is why this plan of his, similarly, also has become difficult.
It’s no secret Dee and himself have a reputation, so to speak. In the kingdom and across other kingdoms and across the land, the two of them, the Reynolds twins, they’re known for being difficult, whatever that means. Unruly, unfit, unappealing, those are the words he’s heard the most, another way of saying that they refuse to be controlled.
His sister wants to get married, that’s true, but she isn’t exactly kind to her suitors. In other words, she’s picky, she doesn’t take anyone she can get, and although Dennis still refuses to entertain this royal duty of theirs, he respects her way of giving their parents hell
They’ve been riding these methods for a while, these lifestyles, almost, but now, their father has decided to make things even more difficult for them than they already were, which shockingly is possible, after all. No, the king has decided that if Deandra wants to get married, or be courted, or whatever, then, she’s only allowed if Dennis does the same.
Dennis, who has just about five hundred other things he’d rather be doing that. You see how this problem only grows bigger and more insufferable the more you think about it, right?
Since his sister has scared away half her suitors and the other half she’s kicked to the curb, he eventually came to think, maybe he shouldn’t be worried about it that much, after all. Dee enjoys torturing all the people asking for her hand more than she enjoys the actual courting, it seems, which is one of the many things he loves about her, so, eventually, he decided that their father’s newest attempt at making their lives miserable actually didn’t do anything at all.
It might’ve actually been to their benefit, in some weird, backwards way. Well, that is, until today, when his twin sister barges into his private garden, she could go to her own, thank you very much, but she walks right in, and she’s got this light in her eyes and this grin on her face that he’s never quite seen before.
She doesn’t just look happy, no, she looks ecstatic.
Naturally, he gets a little worried. Naturally, he quickly learns that he had every right to be worried, because his beloved sister wastes no time telling him that she is, in fact, finally, their parents would say, getting married. He calls bullshit.
“I don’t believe you,” Dennis says, and he doesn’t know what the funniest thing is, the groundbreaking news his twin sister just told him, or the fact that she actually looks genuinely offended at the accusation that just came out of his mouth.
“I never lie to you,” she insists, and Dennis shrugs, more just to tease her than anything else, and he laughs when she shoves him, as he admittedly, probably deserves.
“What’s so funny, asshole?” Dee asks him in a huff, “What, you don’t think someone would actually want to marry me?”
“Oh, fuck you, I believe that,” he responds, “I don’t believe that you’ve actually agreed to it. You never like anyone who asks for your hand. What happened to having impossibly high standards?”
Dee snorts, finally putting her smile back on her face. “Well, they’ve been met.”
“Right,” Dennis says slowly, “Is this a nightmare or something? Did I fall on my horse and go into a coma?”
“You can’t even be happy for me!”
“I am happy for you!” he insists, because, well, of course he is, but also, he can’t shake the disbelief off his shoulders, or maybe his refusal to believe it, since this piece of news kind of ultimately changes everything in his and their lives, “I’m sure mom and dad will be thrilled, too.”
“I don’t give a shit about them,” his sister says quickly, “I just care what you think.”
Dennis smiles as he sighs, poking her shoulder, silently reciprocating what they both know is true and always have known. “Listen, okay, fine, I believe you,” he tells her, “And I’m happy for you, I am, and I’ll… I’ll go to your stupid wedding and help plan it and all that, okay?”
“Oh, you’re assuming I’ll invite you, then?” she laughs.
“Fuck you,” he repeats, “But aren’t you forgetting something?”
Dee frowns at him. “What are you talking about?”
“You know,” Dennis reminds her, “The little detail that you can’t be courted or date anyone or anything if your dearly beloved brother isn’t also getting some action.”
“Oh,” his sister replies, to his huge revelation, mind you, by brushing it off, by almost sighing in relief and rolling her eyes and that huge grin returning to her face once more, like that was just another piece of fantastic, wonderful information that wasn’t threatening to ruin their lives, or at least just bend to their parents’ will, which is just as annoying and life-ruining, he thinks, “I’ve already thought of that.”
“Sure, you-” he almost laughs, almost, but it takes a second or two for her words to actually sink into his mind, “You what?”
He’s not surprised, he’s more shocked, actually, he just kind of sits there with no fucking clue what to expect. It’s no secret that his reputation has gotten… worse than Dee’s, to say the least. This is mostly, entirely by his own will to spread false rumors about himself to make sure no one gets the brilliant idea of proposing to him, because, sure, he likes dating, but he hasn’t exactly been in the mood for it or anything similar, ever since his first girlfriend passed away.
He lost Maureen, and frankly, he’s not trying to lose anyone else. He’s had enough, actually, more than enough, but no one seems to fucking understand that, which has resulted in this unfortunate situation he’s now in, where it’s been many years since Maureen, but no one seems to understand that he doesn’t do it anymore, no matter how many years it’s been, no matter if everyone else around him gets married, no matter if his parents wants the kingdom to continue to prosper and continue the lineage and whatever, who cares. He just doesn’t. It’s done.
“Actually, Charlie and I came up with it together,” his sister tells him proudly, and honestly, now he’s even more worried than before.
“Charlie?”
“My fiancé,” she explains, “Well, soon to be fiancé, anyways. I told him about dad’s rule, and he got this brilliant idea, it’s fool-proof, actually.”
“You’re making me nervous.”
“Relax,” Dee tells him, “We’re just setting you up with someone.”
“Dee,” Dennis says, “Did you forget the part where I don’t date? The part where I’m actively avoiding it? The part where no one in this entire land wants to marry me or see me because I’m a living nightmare?”
“You inflate your own ego too much,” she snorts, “But no, I didn’t forget, you dick. You don’t have to worry at all?”
“Can you be any less cryptic?”
“Yes,” she tells him brightly, “We found the perfect match for you.”
“I’m not going to like this, am I?” he asks, even though he’s almost already concluded it, even though he’s kind of scared to hear the answer.
“You don’t have to like it,” she says, and she stands up, patting his shoulder and furrowing her brows for a moment at his book before shrugging happily, “But you’ll do it for my sake, because I’m your sister and you love me.”
“That’s a big assumption.”
“You love me!” Dee calls behind her, as she strolls out of the garden as easily as she came in, not a care or worry in the world, leaving Dennis sitting there with no words and no fucking idea as to how he’s supposed to react, how any of this will go down or work out in his favor, if it’s even possible.
It’s true, though, unfortunately. The things he does for love.
So, when Dee announced she had found the perfect match for him, he was already worried, but Dennis soon realises that this little problem is about to be even bigger than he anticipated. In fact, he’s got a feeling worried might not even be the right word, he’s not sure any word could suffice enough to express just how fucked he is.
Because he feels like he’s utterly, totally fucked.
He should’ve been suspicious when the day started out rather well, so normal, in fact, he knew he should, but he brushed it off and gave his sister the benefit of the doubt, because she really, truly looks happier than he’s ever seen her with this Charlie.
Dennis is surprised that the man she seems to have fallen in love with is from a neighbouring kingdom of theirs, just across the water, in fact, a trusted sales and trades partner, then again, their own sorry excuses for parents haven’t exactly made it easy for them to travel or just go anywhere without them controlling everything they do and everything they say and everyone they talk to. There’s a loneliness in this castle he’d been wondering if it’s just exclusively for him and Dee, or if everyone with royal status, or if everyone in the entire world just feels like this.
Charlie Kelly has had to be crowned as king at a young age, Dennis learns, after the recent passing of his mother and no one knowing who his father is.
Dennis isn’t sure if it makes him a horrible person or not, that he almost envies this guy. That doesn’t sound too bad, he thinks. It sounds like freedom.
He doesn’t say it out loud, though, as much as him and Dee like to taunt each other, he’s not about to ruin this for her, and though he’s worried about every single aspect of this oncoming situation, he must admit it, Charlie’s nice, he’s funny, he seems good, really good. It’s looking like his sister will finally get what she wants, something good, and he can’t help feeling a little guilty, somehow, that this rule is in her way, the one that’s undoubtedly and unwillingly involving him in it.
But no, it actually goes quite well, the first meeting, believe it or not. Well, their parents are their parents, and nothing ever goes quite perfectly when we’re talking about the king and queen, but once the pleasantries are over and they’ve sat through the intimidating and scrutinizing questions, once they’ve gotten rid of them and take a walk in the royal gardens, Dennis thinks the worst part might be over.
Unfortunately, this is one of those rare instances where he’s wrong. He can’t believe he let himself almost forget about that cursed rule and Dee’s ominous promise, but here it is, staring right in his face.
“We’re doing a double date next week,” his sister smiles, and Dennis groans.
“Please tell me you’re joking.”
“Not at all,” Dee promises, “Charlie’s brilliant.”
“Do you know Mac?” Charlie asks him.
“Sir McDonald,” his sister clarifies, and Dennis laughs, he can’t help it, he has to laugh, but it dies in his throat once he realises that both are absolutely, completely serious.
“You’re joking.”
“No.”
“You can’t be serious, Dee,” he huffs, “Charlie, that- yes, I’ve heard of this fucking guy. He fucking ruined my birthday last year?”
The man looks utterly confused, and Dennis sighs.
“I’ve only met him once, and I’m not about to be in the same room with him ever again. I mean, ever,” he gravely tells them, “The bar banned me and I didn’t even do anything! It was his fault!”
“Oh my God,” his sister gasps, “The bar fight. He’s the loser that kicked your ass?”
“He did not kick my ass,” he says, unable to hide how offended he is, because he actually has reason to, “He was the one who spent two weeks at the medics, not me. He ruined me! He- that’s the best place in the kingdom! They loved me, until-”
“I don’t know about that,” Dee rolls her eyes, “You can find cheap alcohol elsewhere, dickhead.”
“They’re the cheapest, Dee,” he tells her sternly, “And the best, and he’s the dickhead, not me. He’s fucking infuriating-”
“Right, okay, I see,” his twin sister interrupts him, “He hurt your pride.”
“That is not-”
“He’s kind of, uh, rough, yeah,” Charlie joins in on their conversation again, looking equally amused and equally awkward about this whole conundrum, “But he’s my best friend, I swear, dude, he’s not that bad. And it’s only one date, right?”
“Our parents are stubborn,” Dennis responds, “I don’t know if they’ll be satisfied with just one date. How did you even get him to agree to this? He must remember me, right? I mean, he must know who I am, how could he not?”
“He hasn’t exactly agreed to it,” Charlie says, a sheepish smile on his face.
“Excuse me?”
“I haven’t, uh,” the man continues slowly, “Asked him yet. Not really.”
“Oh, fuck me,” Dennis mutters, already feeling a headache sneaking in on him, already rubbing his temples as the realisation of this nightmare looms over him.
“But it’s cool, man, he’ll be cool with it!” Charlie decides, looking admirably hopeful, and Dennis envies him again, for seeing the bright side of this absolute hellhole with no solution, at least none that ends with Dennis not having to suffer through some bullshit to make Dee happy.
He’ll do it, obviously, of course he will. He will do it because he wants his sister to be happy, but it’s just the most dire and insufferable thing possible, that their parents have, yet again, succeeded in making everything so fucking complicated that he doesn’t think he’ll ever have a moment of peace. That’s all he wants.
“And how exactly is that the perfect match for me, Dee?”
“You’re both losers,” his sister shrugs, says it simply like it was supposed to be obvious.
“Go fuck yourself,” he tells her.
“And you’re both stubborn assholes,” she laughs, “Besides, it’s not like you have to marry him or anything. If mom and dad aren’t happy with one date, we’ll just keep it going, and once we have our wedding date secured, you can just… I don’t know, fake a dramatic breakup, or something? You like being dramatic.”
“Says you,” he huffs, “You’re suggesting I fake all of it, then?”
“Well, yes,” Dee nods, “I love you and I wish I could do this without having to force you into it, but…”
“I know, I know,” he says, squeezing her hand, because it’s not her fault and he knows it bothers her, because they’re in this shit together, and they’ll just have to work it out, together, “Fine, alright, sure, whatever. I’ll try to… get along with him, okay? That’s enough, right?”
“I love you,” his sister grins, “I’m so happy, you know.”
Dennis smiles right back. “I’m happy you’re happy. I just hate that I was right, that’s all.”
“Right about what?” Charlie asks.
“That this is not going to be fun for me whatsoever,” he sighs, “I’m not going to like this at all.”
“I thought you were more stubborn than that,” Dee teases him, “You can always just use this opportunity to get revenge on him, you know? That’s probably something you’d want. Make the best of it!”
His sister and her fiancé walk off ahead of him, because Dennis stops in his tracks at Dee’s words, trying to run through every scenario in his head, every possible outcome of this situation he soon will find himself in, but Dee, well, she’s just opened an entirely new door, one he wasn’t even aware existed.
He hates admitting it, but his twin sister is right. Maybe Dennis can have some fun with this, after all. Maybe this won’t be so bad, maybe, because he might actually be able to get something good out of this, he might not have to just sit through it and hope it’s over, he might actually get something he wants, too, despite how many obstacles their parents have put in both of their lives.
He can’t believe it, Dennis is almost excited. He almost can’t wait. Oh, he’s going to make this guy’s life a living hell.
Dennis isn’t sure exactly what he expected; whether this Mac would look exactly how he remembered him, or whether he’d changed so much he’d barely recognize him, and yet, somehow, both things are true at the same time, even though he knows well enough how illogical that sounds.
In any case, he is exactly as infuriating, stupid, annoying, insufferable as when Dennis saw him last. Maybe even more so, frighteningly enough.
He doesn’t like to admit the two of them have anything in common, because they don’t, no, except for one thing, the one little detail that they both have a reputation that isn’t so… favorable, one might say.
Whereas Dennis has only fed into all the lies about him, big and small, because, well, at least it could get him off the marriage market and render him free to do whatever he wants, or more of what he wants, anyways, he’s pretty sure Mac’s reputation, on the other hand, isn’t manipulated and therefore entirely true. He imagines so, anyway.
There’s many things about the most irresponsible knight this or any other kingdom has known. He’s lazy and weak and clumsy, at least, that’s what he’s heard, and Dennis knows everyone around here thinks he’s got the biggest ego imaginable, but this guy is possibly the biggest asshole he’s ever met. He’s known to throw himself into fights that he never wins, he knows this, since he had the unfortunate pleasure of meeting him exactly that way.
He was already prepared, of course, already knew what he had to do to have at least a little fun with this while also getting him off his back, maybe call off this whole marriage thing once and for all, if he’s lucky.
Dennis walks into it with a plan, and he’s focused, and he’s at peace with it. He’s got nothing to worry about. That is, until a certain person decides to open his big mouth.
“Your grace,” the man whistles lowly, bowing before him in a way that seems more mocking than anything else, “Aren’t you a sight for sore eyes?”
He snorts, because he has the fucking gall- but Dennis is calm, remember, he’s got a plan.
“It’s your highness, actually,” he clears his throat as he corrects him.
“My bad,” Mac gives him a crooked smile in return, and he looks back and forth between Dennis, Dee and Charlie, looking at them with a gaze of disbelief, as if they just got off a fucking spaceship or something, “I thought you two were twins.”
“We are,” Dee responds, and the man laughs.
“No way,” he decides, “He’s beautiful, and you’re- well-”
“Go fuck yourself,” is all she says in response, all while rolling her eyes, but she doesn’t seem to take his thinly veiled insult all that close to heart, because she’s squeezing Charlie’s hand and pushing Dennis forward with the other, unable to contain her apparent excitement, “Didn’t I tell you? I think you two will be perfect together! This will be so fun!”
“I’m Mac,” the man entirely ignores Dee, instead he winks at Dennis, who only frowns even deeper at him.
“If by fun you mean throwing myself into a hot fire, then, yes, fun,” he tells her sarcastically, before he turns back to the eyesore standing in front of him, “Did someone finally beat your head in and give you a concussion, or something? You don’t have to introduce yourself.”
“I don’t?”
“No,” he laughs uneasily, “I think I’d remember the guy who ruined my birthday and got me banned from my favorite bar quite well.”
Add another thing to the list of unappealing traits of this sorry excuse of a man, because he might actually be an idiot. Mac lifts his eyebrows, he looks at him in pure and utter confusion, it seems like, staring him up and down like he’d never even heard of him and knew he existed before today.
“I think you might be confusing me with someone else, your grace,” he says, his grin so wide and stupid that Dennis has to count to ten inside his head, has to take a deep breath, or two, so he can continue to think clearly, “I mean, I’ve heard of you, everyone has, but I think I’d remember a face like that.”
“Are you actually stupid?” Dennis laughs incredulously, “How dare you-”
“Dennis,” his sister interrupts them pointedly, “You two can discuss all of this over dinner, remember? Remember, you promised me?”
“I didn’t promise you anything.”
“But you love me,” she reminds him, “You’ll do it for me, won’t you?”
Dennis kind of hates her right now. But, yes, most of all, he loves her, and he hates that he does, and he groans, reminding himself again that he just has to suffer this long enough until his sister is getting married. Just long enough, then their parents will be satisfied, then, he’ll get rid of this loser. Then, it’ll all be fine.
“The things I do for you,” he mumbles, and she squeezes his cheek, which is a little bit annoying, but not quite as annoying as this Mac, who eats like an animal over the dinner table and in front of his family, who tells the biggest lies he’s ever heard and writes them off as his own adventures, who winks at him over the dinner table, and who is so unbelievably stupid that he must’ve fallen down a hill or down the stairs at the bar or something, since he clearly is suffering from amnesia that makes him forget their first meeting.
Dennis looks at him over the table and feels nothing but disgusting. He’s gross and horrid, and annoying, and he seems determined to get on Dennis’ nerves, too, he’s so insufferable that any doubts about his plan are quickly squashed in front of him.
Yeah, no, Dennis will not feel bad whatsoever about breaking this man’s heart.
His plan is simple, really; he’s going to make this man fall in love with him, which should be pretty easy. Then, he’s going to make his life a living hell, he’s going to terrorize, he’s going to destroy him, actually. He’s going to break his heart and leave him mending the pieces all by himself, and then, he won’t have to worry about marriage ever again.
His sister will be happy, and he will be happy, alone, in peace and quiet.
It’s a genius plan, quite frankly, a bulletproof one, too, because word goes that this knight, amongst all his other flaws, also has the worst temper possibly seen in the entire country, that he’s a sore loser, that he’s gullible and believes in God’s plan, that he’s offensive and has scared a hoard of sorry men who were actually willing to fuck him - or, God forbid, fall in love with him - just by being himself.
He’s perfect, Dennis thinks. He’s a perfect tragedy, and it will be easy, to get some amusement out of him, and maybe he’d feel bad about it, if this man wasn’t already spending every minute of this date staring at him and asking him stupid questions and doing these terrible attempts at flirting, doing everything in his power to annoy him, it seems.
“I’ve got this, your grace,” Mac tells him as they’re about to go on a horse ride, the four of them together, reaching out a hand to help him up, as if that isn’t the most insulting thing he could do.
“I’m perfectly capable of getting up on my horse,” Dennis snaps at him, “And it’s still your highness, you really ought to get your head checked out.”
“Well, I can still-”
“I’m fine,” he interrupts him, “Trust me, the last thing I need is your help.”
In all fairness, the ride through the woods isn’t all too bad, mostly because the other man seems to have the attention span of a dog, seems to get distracted by just about anything, so it’s peaceful, for the most part. Dee and Charlie are deeply engrossed in their own world, it seems, and Dennis doesn’t feel… left out or lonely, something, he’s just strolling along, taking in his surroundings.
He does watch Mac quite a bit, in all honesty. He showed up to this so-called date in his armor, without any good reason at all, and he’s struggling to keep control of the horse, nonetheless, he seems blissfully unaware of either of these things. His hair is shiny and flattened down with… well, he can’t imagine how much gel he’s put in his hair, it looks unnatural, it looks dangerous, but it does leave Dennis wondering how it looks without all of that in it, untouched.
He laughs loudly and he chews louder and he wolf-whistles at him, he’s barbaric, that’s what he is. Dennis has eyes, though, of course, and he’s not stupid, unlike his current, unpleasant choice of company, he supposes Mac isn’t bad-looking, all things considered.
He might even call him attractive if it wasn’t for his gross behavior and his habit of talking before he thinks. If he’s even capable of thinking at all. At this rate, he wouldn’t be shocked at all if that was the case, if he’s got empty air inside his head where his brain’s supposed to be.
“How are you not married?” the man asks, and Dennis frowns at him, his voice taking him out of his own head.
“What, is that surprising to you?”
“Uh, duh,” Mac replies with a chuckle, “You’re hot. I’d imagined you had a long line of people begging you to fuck them.”
“My sex life is perfectly fine,” Dennis tells him, so irritated he almost doesn’t want to look at him, yet, something keeps dragging his gaze back to him, his stupid hair and his even stupider lopsided grin, his stubbly jaw and his lazily half-done shirt and cloak, his hands that seem unable to keep still and also terribly rough, worn and dirty.
“I never said it wasn’t.”
“And it’s none of your business, either.”
“I never said it was,” the man winks again, “I’m just saying, you know, I consider myself lucky. And I meant what I said, you’re a vision, my lord.”
“Will you stop-” Dennis blinks at him, he swallows hard, not sure what he’s supposed to do in this situation, exactly, because he’s infuriated, because he’s sure this guy must be playing some sort of practical joke on him or just trying to piss him off, how could he not remember they met, but these words that fall off his tongue so easily now, they seem so utterly sincere, so natural, “You think so?”
“I wouldn’t lie to a prince.”
“You lied to my face,” Dennis reminds him, “Last year. You were bragging, when you’ve never won a single battle, not a single tournament in your life. I knew you were a sore loser, but not a liar.”
“I keep telling you, gorgeous,” Mac says, “I wouldn’t forget meeting you.”
Dennis bites the inside of his cheek hard, so hard he fears he might draw blood, and he ponders over the next thing he’s going to say to him, when something new seems to catch this man’s attention, and he steers his horse wildly up the hill, leaving Dennis to tag along behind the three of them.
As they eventually make their return to the stables, Dennis takes his time, since this place is one of the few places in the castle where he can truly get a moment to breathe every once in a while, where there’s as close a semblance to silence as he can get. No parents breathing down his neck, no servants and royal advisors and assistants and messengers, no expectations. Just him.
It does seem to take forever for this thorn in his side to wrestle himself off the horse, though. Mac wipes the sweat off his face and messes with his hair for ages more, now half flat and half floppy, which Dennis only stares at for a second or two longer, how locks of hair clings to his damp face and hard he’s exhaling every breath, how his tongue almost hangs out lazily as he does, the blooming red color in his cheeks, his heaving chest.
Only a second or two, that is. The man is approaching him again, and Dennis is just about ready to tell him to fuck off, because he definitely needs a minute to figure out how he’s going to execute his plan without wanting to rip this knight’s head off instead, but Mac surprises him again, before he can even get a word in.
“Your grace,” he bows his head again, and he holds out a bunch of flowers in front of him, a sea of dark and baby blues and white and lilac.
“What are you…” Dennis’ voice falters, trying to think back on their long ride and when the other man could’ve possibly gone off to pick these flowers, he couldn’t think of it, “What are you doing?”
“These are for you,” Mac tells him, and when he shakes his hand a little in front of him, Dennis coughs a little over his breath and grabs the bouquet to himself.
“Why?” is the only thing he can think to say.
The man shrugs. “They reminded me of your eyes. So, for you.”
It might’ve been a sweet moment, in a weird sort of way, if the man didn’t stand around waiting, waiting like a dog begging for scraps he knows will kill him.
“Okay,” he replies, repeating himself when he hears his own voice crack, “They’re gonna die in, like, two days.”
“You don’t have to be such a dick about it,” the man mutters, and Dennis laughs.
“That’s big coming from you,” Dennis huffs, “You’re just pretending to not remember me to get a rise out of me.”
“I’m really not-”
“You ruined my birthday party.”
“I’m telling you-”
“And,” Dennis finishes, clutching the flowers to his chest and inching closer to the knight, then, not sure what he was expecting his reaction to be, but definitely not for him to gape at him with wide eyes, definitely not for him to reach out and grab his arm, as if Dennis was falling over, so he pushes his hand right back where it came from, “You owe me a drink. Or three, actually.”
“If you wanted me to buy you a drink, you could’ve just asked,” the man grins, looking smug in a way he’s in no way allowed to be, so Dennis curses under his breath and shoves the flowers back in the other man’s grasp as well.
“I don’t want your flowers,” he tells him, calmly and not stuttering in any way, “Get back to me when you have that drink.”
He walks away from his safe away without looking back and locks himself in his bedroom for the better part of the day, too annoyed to focus on his books or finish his painting from two days ago. In fact, he resides himself to sit in the window, watching over the daily commotion in and out of the courtyard, until, eventually, the man who shall not be named comes right back into his view.
Mac’s wandering around rather cluelessly, it seems, until he’s approached by a man Dennis has never seen before. He looks to be a knight from his father’s guard, if the crest is any indicator, but regardless, they look like they’re arguing a bit, until the other man walks away.
For whatever reason, Mac tries to follow him, but is promptly punched in the face for his effort, and then left alone to clutch at his jaw. Dennis huffs. He probably deserved it.
And he’d have liked it if one double date was enough for his parents to leave them alone, just one annoying, but not entirely catastrophic, date, but unfortunately, he continues to know the king and queen a little too well.
Soon enough, the four of them are forced to spend an evening at a local bar together, a lesser bar, given he’s currently not allowed into the best one, another irritating reminder. This is when Dennis learns another thing about Mac, the thing where he soon realises the knight has slept with just about everyone of the male gender in the entire kingdom, save for himself. It’s not even entirely an exaggeration.
The bartender seems particularly scorned over the knight’s presence, and Mac is pleading with him to sell him something, anything, currently, which is getting a little pathetic, so Dennis sighs and figures he’ll have to bud in.
“Put it on my tab,” he decides, making the man behind the bar jump and scatter and bow and fall over his own feet, all at the same time.
“Coming right up, your highness!”
While they wait, the unappealing man next to him leans further over the bar, resting his chin in his hand, staring at Dennis like he just invented electricity, or something.
“Why are you looking at me like that?”
“That was hot,” Mac decides.
“What? Ordering a drink?”
“No,” he says, slapping his shoulder, which Dennis gives him right back, “You have, like… power over people. It’s hot.”
He tilts his head at the knight, admittedly curious at what just came out of his mouth. Last time he saw him, a year ago, this man was telling the entire bar about how he slayed an infinitely ridiculous and unrealistic amount of men and dragons and what have you, spilling lies as quickly as he was spilling precious drops of liquor, and when he wasn’t showing off, he almost got himself beat up and thrown out, until the bard took pity on him, for some reason.
Mac didn’t exactly strike him as someone who’d want to be dominated, is all. Yet, he seems to be getting off at Dennis ordering someone around. Strange.
“Do I have enough power for you to leave me alone?” he asks, and Mac’s eyes light up like a kid at Christmas.
“Make me.”
“Mac, fuck off.”
“No.”
“What do you mean, no?” he laughs incredulously.
“I’m supposed to be buying you a drink,” Mac reminds him, “Not the other way around.”
“Just give me the money for it, then,” he insists.
“What are you gonna do to me if I don’t?”
“Mac,” Dennis says, feeling increasingly exasperated by the minute, “Can you please just be good and give me a fucking minute to breathe?”
The knight’s breath staggers. It’s so loud Dennis thinks the entire town could hear it, or maybe it’s just because they’re standing this close, he doesn’t really know, but what he said seems to be doing the trick, because the man next to him looks so excited he’s almost vibrating, like he’s wagging his fucking tail, if he had one to wag in the first place.
It’s leaving Dennis a little breathless. Like, there’s a surge in his stomach that leaves him pretty much speechless, or maybe it’s- maybe, possibly, it’s because his pants suddenly feel a lot tighter than they were just moments ago. Fuck.
“Yeah, yeah,” the man agrees, “I’ll be good.”
He stays back at the bar once he’s left alone, taking a deep breath and shaking his head at himself, until the bartender gets back to him with the drinks.
“Good luck getting him to shut up,” the man tells him, sending his best glare behind him, “And getting him to stay.”
“Hm?”
“He never calls back,” the man rolls his eyes, “Best fuck of my life, but then he gets so bossy and treats you like- like an object, man, he’ll fuck anything with-”
“Shut up,” Dennis groans, walking right off.
He’s feeling a lot of weird things right now, but he’s mostly just feeling disappointed. This nightmare isn’t over yet.
As much as Dennis wanted this plan to be bulletproof, he quickly sees it get a little… complicated. It turns out, despite being well educated on the rumors about this man, he still can’t seem to get a good read on him.
Contrary to what many men has been telling him about Mac and his habit of discarding them once they’ve had one good fuck or even less than that, of getting bored, as he’s been told, Dennis is getting a different story here.
He’s making plenty of attempts to get his plan to run smoothly. The plan is still to treat this man worse than shit and then scare him off or break his heart, whatever comes first, but it seems, no matter how truly, horribly Dennis treats him, he just bounces right back. Contrary to everything else he’s heard, this man is clingy.
Sure, he argues as spitefully and bitterly and nasty as himself, which is kind of thrilling, so thrilling Dennis didn’t know it was possible to get a kick out of getting blood on his knuckles and beat some of the pride out of this helpless excuse of a knight.
It throws him off, then, though, because Mac seems to be enjoying getting beat up. He’s enjoying getting beat up by Dennis. He doesn’t understand.
And he’s possibly the biggest asshole he’s ever known, he’s known this, because even asking him nicely to do things for him, or just trying to start small talk, as one is supposed to do on dates, he’s sure, results in the other man being a piece of shit. Just like back at the bar, asking him for things and asking him to do things results in Mac refusing, but not before demanding something himself.
“Make me,” he keeps on telling him, over and again.
“Mac, I’m not in the mood for this right now.”
“I can make you feel better,” the man says eagerly, “Come on, tell me what to do.”
“I did.”
“Not like that,” he insists, “Order me. What are you gonna do to me if I don’t?”
It becomes an almost daily occurrence of theirs, and Dennis wonders if his sister and Charlie notice, or if they’ve started tuning them out ages ago. Probably the latter.
When he’s not doing… whatever that is, Mac is also going right against what Dennis has heard about him, sure, he’s loud and rude and all of the things that follow, but on the day where he isn’t begging Dennis to boss him around him, he kind of just follows him around in his heels, and he does things for him without asking, and then, every one in a while, he… he doesn’t know to describe it. He watches him. He’s quiet.
“You’ve been staring at me all day,” he tells Mac, who’s currently standing around awkwardly in the garden while Dennis reads, mind you, three days after he’d had Mac pushed off his horse and almost break a rib, but he’s still standing.
“You can’t blame me, can you?”
“What on earth are you talking about?”
“You’re beautiful,” the knight tells him, a sincerity in his voice that hits the same way it hits him every single time, every single stroll, the same way it hit him back in the bar the very first time, making him dizzy, “You- you’re like… I don’t know. I think God made you differently.”
“What?” Dennis wheezes, caught off guard, “You- What are you even doing right now? We’ve been on so many dates, it’s just for my sister’s sake, you know that?”
“Yeah.”
“You just say the same thing to every single guy, don’t you?” he huffs, “So you can get in my pants and then get bored of me. I’ve heard it.”
“I don’t think I could ever get bored of you,” Mac tells him lowly.
Dennis can’t focus on his book anymore. His heart is beating too fast in his chest. He knows it’s not anger, but he doesn’t want to think about what it actually is.
“I’m done reading,” he says simply.
It’s a quiet evening when Dennis resides in the stables, eager to be alone and stare into the wall a bit and wonder what the fuck’s happening to him and his emotions, because Mac has seemingly dedicated his entire life to getting on his nerves.
He’s constantly interrupting him, constantly barging into his room at any hour of the day and being loud, constantly following him around, constantly choosing any day and any way to start a petty argument, even though he knows that he’s wrong. And when he’s not doing everything in his power to make him miserable, it seems, he’s doing weird things, like giving him flowers and offering his hand and, God forbid, courting him.
This man is clearly confused. Or maybe Dennis is confused. He doesn’t know, actually.
He knows things like that he’s constantly pissing him off, and, yet, Dennis finds himself looking forward to it. He’s looking forward to kicking his ass and all their petty arguments, he’s looking forward to both compliments and insulting him and yelling at each other and entertaining all of Mac’s false stories, and when they decide to travel across town to try a new bar without Dee and Charlie, when the bartender very obviously flirts with the knight and tries to touch his hair, Dennis grabs Mac by the belt and practically pulls him right out of the door.
He didn’t like that at all. That also pissed him off. Strangers shouldn’t be touching his knight- he means, Mac’s hair.
He’s unlucky tonight, because not long after he left, said knight is following right in his heels again, opening and shutting the door to the stables and then staring at Dennis again like he’s got no free will at all.
“Didn’t I tell you to leave me alone?” Dennis snaps, and Mac nods.
“I know-” the man says, “But I just thought-”
“You thought what, Mac?” he huffs, “Why do you keep doing this? You win, you’re getting on my nerves, you’re pissing me off, all the time! Isn’t that what you want?”
“Well, no-”
“Then what exactly is it you thought you’d be getting out of this?” Dennis asks him, pinching the bridge of his nose in despair, “Of agreeing to doing this? Because if you hate me so much, then-”
“I just wanted to be closer to you,” the man breathes out, interrupting him again, “I’d take the opportunity, even if you didn’t, you know… remember me.”
Dennis stares at him for a long while, feeling every single word die in his mouth. He eventually goes with crossing his arms and blinking at him, unsure if he heard him right.
“I’m sorry?” he says, “I don’t think I heard you right. Explain exactly what your plan was when you said yes to this.”
“I lied,” Mac admits, which is infuriating, even though he has the gall to look embarrassed, at least, “I do remember you. Jesus, how could I not?”
Dennis wants to punch him in the face. He’s done it before. Could feel really, really good right about now. Still, he waits.
“I don’t believe you,” Dennis refuses, “Why would you lie about that? And why… why would you be so stupid as to think driving me crazy like this gets you… closer to me!”
The man shrugs. “I don’t know, uh, I guess, I just… I didn’t think you’d remember me and I panicked. I never thought I’d get to see you and I just- I’ve been dreaming about- I just wanted it to last longer, and I didn’t know how to make that happen, you know? And then- I mean, you were telling me what to do, and I kinda- well-”
“You want me to push you around,” Dennis says, more like a statement than a question, “It’s turning you on, right, when I tell you what to do?”
The knight nods eagerly, his grin getting wider, smiling to himself.
“And it’s fun, arguing with you, I don’t know-”
Dennis decides to scratch his face, as opposed to punching it. His cheek is red and they’re both out of breath, and Mac didn’t even react when he walked up to him and did it, he jumped, he took it. And since everything about this plan was about getting to do whatever he wants all the time, he decides to do what he wants again, and grabs the man by the throat and kisses him.
It’s rough and wet, and the knight latches onto him like a vine immediately, stumbling backwards and rather luckily landing in the hay that’s been building up in one of the empty stalls. The sound escaping from the man under him sounds a lot more like a moan than a groan, and his hands are already traveling underneath Dennis’ clothes, so he takes the opportunity to press down on Mac’s crotch with his knee, and he swallows when the man whines right into his mouth.
There’s spit trickling down from the other man’s lips when he pulls away, and there’s tiny blood stains on Dennis’ fingers from the cut he just made in his cheek before. Mac is staring up at him with wide blown eyes, his hair free of gel and quite frankly a mess.
He wants to touch his hair. In fact, he thinks he’s wanted to touch it for months, so he does, he grabs the locks that are softer than he imagined and pulls the knight’s face closer.
“You know,” he laughs breathlessly, “I was planning to break your heart.”
“You can do it,” Mac decides, but Dennis shakes his head.
“I was going to scare you away, you idiot,” he sighs, “So I could do whatever I want.”
“What do you want?”
“That’s the thing, I-” he continues, stuttering over his own sentence, “I think there’s a new thing I want.”
Mac hums. Dennis carries on.
“I don’t want anyone else to ever touch your hair ever again,” he decides, “You’re gonna let others touch it?”
“No.”
“And,” he finishes off, “I think I want you to be good for me.”
“I can do that,” the knight says eagerly, “Please, please, let me do that. Uh, your grace.”
“Really?” he scrutinizes him, “You can do that without being a dick?”
“I can be quiet-”
“I don’t want you to be quiet,” Dennis refuses, “I want you to be loud. And I want you to fuck me, right here, right now. Can you be good and do that?”
“Who am I to deny your wishes,” the man underneath almost giggles, “Your highness.”
Dennis doesn’t think he’s ever heard a better thing in his life, and he has to really, really control himself, try with everything in his power to not moan Mac’s name so loud that they’ll wake up half the staff and half the kingdom, though he’s sure they come close to that. He can’t even find it in himself to be disappointed that his carefully thought out plan failed horribly, he can’t care about that or that a haystack really is an awful place to sleep at night.
Mac really is a heavy, clingy sleeper. Dennis thinks he wants this again.