text: There are rules when it comes to being a Prince. For one, sit up straight. Charlie was already failing rule one. His mother coughed at him, pressing her fingers into his back and sending an apologetic look to the photographer in front of them. Sighing, Charlie sat up, his shoulders aching from the position he had been in for the past hour. He let his eyes dart around the room, exploring his surroundings for the tenth time. It was a relatively empty room, with a large arching ceiling. Antique furniture was scattered near the windows and walls, including the patterned red couch Charlie and his family were currently sitting on. Most of the space was taken by camera equipment and a large hoard of staff ready to rush forward and deliver anything he or the royal family needed. It was a lot for a 16-year-old boy to handle. Next to him on the couch were his two younger sisters, Charlotte and Elanor, and on either side of him were his mother, the Queen, and his father. He sat firmly in the middle, as the oldest heir of the Crown. Shifting in his seat, Charlie tried his best not to grimace as his suit tightened around his elbows, stiff and ever so uncomfortable. He expanded his smile, trying to look natural as the lights flashed before him. “Okay.” He heard before him as the photographer stepped away. “That should be good.” “Thank you, Rapheal.” His mother said, her voice as graceful and prominent as always. “Shall we see you next week?” He nodded, and Charlie groaned internally. He should be used to photos by now, but each and every one felt like a thousand years wasted. “Well then, we will just pack up and be out of your way.” Rapheal said, his faint Spanish accent peeking through. “It was an honor, as always, your majesty.” He gave a little bow and Charlie’s mom chuckled. “It’s been three years, Rapheal, please, just call me Elizabeth.” She said before walking out of the room, her footsteps echoing against the white walls. Charlie held back as his family left, directing his attention to a boy with curly brown hair and tan skin. He was holding a notebook close to his chest, and chewing on the tip on a pen as his eyes furrowed with a look of determination. Charlie waltzed up to him, stopping to lean over his shoulder. “You’re doing that thing again.” He spoke, and the boy jumped, his notebook spilling out of his hands and onto the floor. Charlie was quick to grab it, reading the first line he laid eyes on out loud as the boy swatted at him to grab it back. “Hair as gold as honey, smile as smooth as the words that roll of the tongue off their tongue.” He raised an eyebrow as he shut the book and handed it back. “Wow, Lucas. Who’s the lucky girl?” Lucas glared at him, an all too familiar look for Charlie. “No one.” He muttered, turning away to walk toward his father. Charlie recalled the first time Rapheal had come to take photos, when he had just turned 13. He had brought Lucas with him, a deal his mother had made to get him to agree. Lucas had sat there the whole time behind the camera, his head in a bright blue notebook and his hand moving at the speed of light. Charlie remembered peering over his shoulder to read the text, he remembered Lucas’s urgency when he hid it from Charlies curious eyes. Drifting out of the memory, he noticed Lucas walking back toward him. “Hello, Charles.” He said, a tight grip on his “book of secrets” as Charlie called it. “Don’t call me that. You sound like my mom.” Charlie joked, falling to match Lucas’s pace as they headed out the door. “Don’t disrespect the Queen.” Lucas said dryly, knowing all too well that Charlie was, perhaps, the only person who dared to disrespect the Queen. “How dare I.” Charlie said dramatically, throwing a hand to his forehead and falling back in fake anguish. Lucas just rolled his eyes and kept walking, his mind in the clouds and his feet clicking on the pavement with each step. The two boys headed toward the garden, stopping when they came upon a large swinging bench. They sat down, melting into their familiar positions, Lucas with his back against the armrest and legs curled up, Charlie leaning on the other side, legs sprung randomly in the air and head facing the sky. He and Lucas had done this countless times before, and probably would for as long as his father kept taking photos of his family. Charlie placed a foot on the ground, pushing the backward so the seat swung. He began to talk, Lucas humming along as he rambled about the most random things. “You know,” he said, breaking eye contact with the clouds to look at Lucas. “You should sleep over.” “Hmm?” Lucas said, looking up from his book. “Sleep over. You know, like friends do. I just realized you never have before.” He tried to read Lucas's face, but as always it was blank, his eyes empty and undecipherable. “Oh.” He said, his voice faltering. “Okay.” He decided finally before going back to his writing. Charlie slumped his shoulders and looked at him, eyebrows raised. “That wasn’t very convincing.” “What do you mean?” Lucas said, his face hiding in the paper. “You don’t have to sleep over if you don’t want, it was a dumb idea.” Charlie said, a frown forming on his face. Lucas shut his book, looking up at Charlie. “I want to.” He said, more confidently. Charlie’s face lit up. “Really?” He asked, eagerness creeping in behind his words. “Don’t get too excited on me Charles.” Lucas said with an eye roll, and Charlie blushed. “Sorry, it’s just, I’ve never had a sleepover before.” He said, biting his lip in embarrassment. “Really?” Lucas sounded overly shocked, so much so that Charlie couldn’t help but shove him off the swing with his foot. He landed with a thud, glaring up at Charlie as he stood and brushed the dirt off of himself. “That wasn’t necessary.” He said with a scowl that didn’t last very long as soon as it made contact with Charlies overenthusiastic grin. “I think it was.” Charlie grinned, standing up with his hands on his hips. “Well then, onwards.” He said, pointing a hand forward and storming in that direction, leaving Lucas to follow behind slowly. He busted into the castle, heading toward one of the main rooms his mother liked to read in. Sure enough she was there, leaning back in a leather armchair with large round glasses covering her a majority of her face. “Mother!” He exclaimed, a bit too loudly, for she looked up at him with disdain. “Sorry.” He muttered before continuing. “Can Lucas stay over?” Much to his surprise, all she said was a simple “sure.” There was no arguing, no complaining, no talks of signing NDA’s, nothing of the sort. “Have fun boys.” She added before going back to reading her book. Charlie froze for a second, slightly unsure of what the next move was. He decided to mutter a “thanks” and walk out the door, pumping his fist excitedly when it shut. Lucas snorted at the sight. “I’m guessing it was a yes?” He asked, and Charlie nodded shyly. He bounced on his toes awkwardly for a second, staring at the floor. “Yeah.” He muttered, shuffling and fidgeting with his hands. “So.” he said, trailing off before he said anything else. “So.” Lucas responded, poking Charlie on the shoulder playfully. “You don’t know what to do next, do you?” Charlie sighed. “No.” He admitted, hanging his head bashfully. “No, I do not.” Lucas chuckled. “Follow me.” Lucas led them to the kitchen, his hand warm in Charlies as he pulled him along, asking him for directions as he did. They walked into the spacious room, mostly empty except for the head chef Luna sitting on the counter. She looked up as they walked in, waving at the boys. “Hey, Charles. And you must be Lucas!” She greeted him with a large smile. “The usual?” She asked Charlie, and he nodded eagerly. “Two please.” He said as she went back to the fridge. Lucas leaned over to him. “What’s she making?” He whispered, and Charlie grinned slyly at him. A few moments later Luna came back, two large glasses in hand. Charlie took his with a grin, taking a large sip through a straw, the thick, chocolaty liquid cold on his tongue. He nudged Lucas to do the same, smiling as melted into a look of pure ecstasy. When he pulled away, he looked at Charlie with shock. “Oh my god.” He said, taking another large sip. “That’s so good.” Charlie chuckled as he pulled away, as a thick layer of milkshake has covered his top lip. “What’s so funny?” Lucas asked. “It’s just-” Charlie paused to laugh again, his breath coming out in short bursts. “You’ve got a bit on your lip.” He finally managed to say, laughing as Lucas rushed to wipe his face. This action only smudged the chocolatey drink further, spreading onto Lucas’s left cheek. Biting back a giggle, Charlie grabbed a napkin and leaned forward. “Here.” He muttered his hand made contact with Lucas’s face, softly wiping away the mess he had made. “All better.” He said as be pulled away, noticing a small blush form on Lucas’s face. “Thanks.” Lucas managed to stutter, still taken aback by the touch, though he would never admit it, never admit to the comforting warmth of his hand even through the cloth of the napkin. He pushed the thoughts back. “Wanna drink these outside?” He asked, and Charlie grinned. “I have a better idea.” He said, grabbing onto the Lucas’s free hand and pulling him out of the kitchen and up a grand flight of stairs and down a hall until they reached a large wooden door. Charlie swung it open, revealing a large but relatively normal room compared to the rest of the castle. Before he had time to fully inspect his surroundings, Charlie pulled him forward toward another smaller pair of doors, revealing a balcony as he slid them open. It was a rather large balcony, complete with two chairs, a table, and a couch. It overlooked the gardens of the castle, the lush bushes and colorful beds of flowers contrasting to the bland stony walls of the large structure. The view was breathtaking, it felt so real compared to the few parts of the castle that he had seen. They all look unlived in, untouched, frozen in time. This left lively, it felt personal. He took it all in as he leaned up against the railing. Charlie leaned beside him, entranced by the way Lucas’s eyes were exploring the place like his had the first time he had been old enough to appreciate it. “It’s beautiful, isn’t it.” He murmured, just loud enough for Lucas to hear but not enough to shake him from his trance. He nodded in response, finally falling back into focus as he felt the fabric of dress shirt rub against his own t-shirt. He hadn’t even noticed Charlie had ditched the suit jacket he was forced to wear at every photoshoot. “Come on.” Charlie finally said, looking toward Lucas. “Let’s sit down.” They both fell onto the couch, conversing lightly as they sipped from their drinks, mouths full at almost every moment. Lucas guessed this was one of the perks of being a Prince, free milkshakes any time he wanted. It was kind of nice, to be fair, even though Lucas himself disliked the whole idea in general. “How do you do it?” He asked, his mouth forming the words before his brain could catch up. “How do I do what?” Charlie responded, putting his drink down for a moment. “Put up with all of this.” He gestured around aimlessly, not exactly sure what he was saying. He was embarrassed to have asked in the first place, but he might as well keep going now. “Like, if I were you, I don’t think I’d be able to handle it. All the responsibility, the formality, all of it.” Charlie shrugged. “It’s all I’ve ever known, I guess. I mean, it can be hard being in the spotlight all the time, but you get used to it. Plus, it’s not all bad.” Lucas nodded at this, but he couldn’t help but ask another question. “Do you ever wish you were just some normal person out there in the world?” Charlie thought about this for a moment. “Yeah.” He finally decided. “Sometimes. But I'm not, nor will I ever be, so I just have to live with it, you know?” He went back to sipping his milkshake. Lucas just sat in silence. A few hours later the boys returned to the bedroom, after sneaking around the castle grounds and eating a very healthy dinner of grilled cheese and ice cream. Lucas had to admit, having a private chef willing to cook them anything was pretty nice. Once they were there, Lucas got a proper view of the room as he wandered around it for a moment, taking it all in. The first thing he noticed wasn’t the large bed complete with a fancy golden bedframe, or the chest at the end of the bed that looked about a thousand year sold, or even the wooden desk that was carved with an unnecessary number of patterns. It was that in the corner of the room, in a pot on a table next to a leather chair, was a rose. Just a simple red rose, nothing important. Lucas wasn’t even sure why that had been what his eyes were drawn to, out of the many plants in the room. But there was something so simple and plain about it, so unfit for the bedroom of a Prince. “That’s Sharon.” A voice rang out behind him, and he raised an eyebrow as he turned to look at Charlie. “Sharon?” He asked, and Charlie nodded. “Sharon.” He confirmed as he walked around the room, inspecting each plant. He stopped at a plant with large green leaves, taking one in his hand and running his thumb across it. “This ones Adam.” He said before moving on to the next. “And this one's Claire.” He gestured toward a blooming cactus. “And that one.” He said, pointing at some vines hanging on his wall. “Is Vincent.” “Do you name all of your plants?” Lucas asked with a giggle. “Is that a normal thing people do?” Charlie glanced at him. “I’m not normal though, am I?” He said, walking toward his bed and throwing himself onto it, his head facing the ceiling as he spread out his limbs. Lucas moved toward him, sitting delicately on the end of the bed and feeling as the soft mattress sunk beneath him. “So.” Charlie began, his eyes still on the ceiling. “Who’s the poem about?” Lucas blushed. “No one.” He said, his voice coming out more defensive than he had hoped. Charlie sat up and looked at Lucas, who's eyes were now trained on the ground. “Oh, come on!” He said, poking Lucas on the shoulder. “Who’s the lucky girl? Does she go to your school?” Lucas gulped. “I don’t-” He began, but no words followed for a few moments. “I don’t like girls.” He finally finished, his words rushed and full of regret. “Oh.” Charlie said, unsure of what to say next. The silence rang loud for a moment before he finally settled on something. “Who's the lucky guy, then?” He asked, smiling widely as Lucas blushed. But no words followed. Lucas stayed frozen, his eyes unmoving his hands the only part of him that did, shaking ever so slightly in his lap. He wanted to speak, but he couldn’t, it's like the words were stuck to the roof of his mouth. He hadn’t meant to say that, he hadn’t meant to say anything. Each second he didn’t speak felt like a decade, and he was too afraid to look at Charlies face. He heard Charlie move beside him, getting up off the bed and walking toward the desk, shuffling around to find a piece of paper. About a minute later something bumped into his elbow, and he turned to look as a paper airplane fluttered to his side. Reluctantly, he grabbed it, unfolding it to see sloppy cursive written on the sleek white page. *Talk to me, Lucas* Lucas smiled, folding it back up and turning toward Charlie before throwing it at him. It hit him square in the chest, and Charlie fell down on the bed dramatically, groaning in pretend pain. He looked up at Lucas with a reassuring grin. “You don’t have to tell me who it is.” He said, his expression going soft. “Good.” Said Lucas in response before falling down next to him. “Because I wasn’t going to.