The pair stood in silence for a moment.
Fennel was unsure if he had made Oliver uncomfortable by asking him to sleep in the bed with him. It wasn't as if he had any unsure intentions - he simply didn't want to be away from the bard, as he wasn't sure how often he would be able to spend time with him after the next day's events.
Fennel looked away, feeling embarrassed for asking such a thing.
"Sure," Oliver broke the silence with a simple response.
"If you don't want to, please don't feel pressured," Fennel whispered. "I don't want you to feel obligated to agree with all of my requests."
"Don't be silly," Oliver chuckled. "If I didn't want to, I know I could have refused."
Fennel looked back at him and nodded. A soft smile formed on his lips. He hoped the bard wasn't just saying it to make him feel better.
Nervously, Fennel took Oliver's hand and led him to the bed. He looked around, unsure of what his next action should be. He hadn't shared a bed with someone since he was a small child, let alone with someone who was not related by blood.
"I'll tuck you in," Oliver suggested.
"O-Okay."
Fennel took his position on the left side of the bed. After he laid down, he watched as Oliver pulled the covers up.
Oliver then moved to the opposite side of the bed. He crawled under the covers and laid on his right side, facing Fennel.
The bard could feel his heart pounding. He tried to close his eyes to fall asleep, but the feel of his pulse beating rapidly kept him from relaxing.
When he opened his eyes, he saw Fennel had also rolled over. The prince was facing him.
The two of them stared at each other for a moment, neither one wanted to break eye contact.
"What are you thinking about, Fennel?" Oliver asked him.
"A lot," Fennel admitted. "I'm so nervous about tomorrow."
"Tomorrow is probably the most important day of your life," Oliver said.
"That doesn't help me feel less anxious," Fennel said, giving the bard a weak smile. "Because you are right. It really is important, isn't it?"
"It's not every day you get to become a king," Oliver added.
Fennel sighed. He felt somewhat excited, because it was a big occasion, but he couldn't shake off the feeling that he wouldn't be able to live up to the expectations of those around him.
"I'm a little scared," the prince admitted.
Oliver reached over and took hold of the feline's hand. He intertwined his fingers with the soft hand, resting it against the mattress between their faces.
"You'll do wonderful," Oliver assured him. "You'll be an excellent leader."
"I'm glad you think so," Fennel whispered.
"I will be cheering you on," Oliver said with a warm smile.
The smile made Fennel's chest flutter. The bard looked so handsome with that look on his face. He wanted a kiss. A loving, tender kiss, but he knew he would be out of line to ask for such a thing.
Even if he did, because he was to be king, he wouldn't be too sure if Oliver would actually want the kiss or just be playing along. It was proper etiquette to never say no to those of higher rank, so he felt he may be taking advantage of his position if he even tried.
He didn't want a fake kiss, which meant nothing or was out of obligation. His heart longed for so much more.
Little did he know, as he lay there thinking, Oliver's mind was racing with thoughts of him. The bard also wanted the kiss, but because of the situation and his ranking in the world, he knew he would never be able to have the prince as his partner.
"Your support makes me feel a little better."
"You'll always have my support," Oliver said. "Unless you decide I'm no longer talented enough to be the court bard."
"I would never." Fennel frowned. "You're always welcome here."
"Fennel, do you think of me as a friend?" Oliver asked.
"I would say so." Fennel blushed. "My best friend."
"I'm glad," Oliver smiled. "Let's always be this way."
"Yes," Fennel sighed contently.
"You'll be too busy to spend time with me soon," Oliver teased.
"No," Fennel furrowed his brow.
"You have to pick a wife tomorrow," Oliver reminded him. "Which means she'll take all of your time."
"That's not true," Fennel said as he puffed out his cheeks.
Oliver found the pouting prince adorable. He also felt Fennel's grip on his hand tighten, which overjoyed him.
"The woman will just be a wife," Fennel said as he looked into the bard's bright yellow eyes. "I don't need to spend much time with her."
"She will need to produce an heir," Oliver muttered, not finding the thought pleasant, as he didn't want to imagine the prince being intimate with someone.
"N-No," Fennel's eyes widened.
"Yes," Oliver chuckled at the feline's reaction.
"I can't."
"Why not?"
"I just can't."
Fennel was frustrated. The bard had made him think about the act of seducing a random noble woman. How was he supposed to initiate such an act when he didn't love the person?
"What if she's the most beautiful woman in the kingdom?" Oliver asked.
"I still can't."
"Why not?"
"I wouldn't love her," Fennel grumbled, closing his eyes. "I don't want to do that with someone I don't have feelings for."
"That's cute," Oliver teased. "You're quite a romantic, aren't you?"
"I don't know," Fennel sighed. "Maybe I am."
"Most men would kill for the opportunity to be given a woman who would have to submit to their every desire."
"Would you?"
"Not anymore," Oliver awkwardly laughed.
"What does that even mean?"
"I guess I've grown out of that phase," Oliver said, in an attempt to change the subject and not reveal his true feelings.
"So, you're a washed up old man?"
"Sure," Oliver chuckled. "I'm an old man."
"How old are you?" Fennel asked.
"Twenty," Oliver replied.
"That's not old!" Fennel frowned, his eyes opening. "You're still at your peak!"
"Am I?"
"You're young enough; an offer would be tempting."
"It's too much work," Oliver laughed.
"Sure it is."
The two of them closed their eyes. Fennel did his best to fall asleep, but the dream world seemed to be unreachable. He groaned, causing the bard to look at him.
"Fennel."
"I still can't sleep," Fennel whispered. "What is it?"
"So, this is a strange question," Oliver said in a flat tone. "Say I was a woman. Would you be able to seduce me?"
Fennel's eyes widened. "That is a strange question. What kind of question is that?"
"A strange one," Oliver confirmed.
"Yes," Fennel answered shyly. "But we have a connection. You know, we're best friends now."
Oliver flushed red. It wasn't the response he had been expecting. Could it be that Fennel had feelings for him, like he himself had for the prince? No. It was impossible. Right?
Maybe he did. Fennel was human. So what if he were a prince and the silver-eared one a bard? So what if they were both men?
Emotions were complicated. They didn't follow social constructs.
"That's good," Oliver finally replied. "I would agree to sleep with you, you know, if I were a woman. I would proudly produce the heir."
"You're a strange one," Fennel sighed.
"You make me strange," Oliver smirked.
"I don't understand you," Fennel blushed.
"I don't really understand myself," Oliver admitted.
"Me either."
There was another extended moment of silence. There was no way either of them would go to sleep. There was too much tension in the room. Both of the men longed for one another, and were beginning to slowly realize it was a mutual attraction.
But neither of them would outright say it.
Fennel was growing uncomfortable. His mind wandered. He imagined the two of them making love, except Oliver was Oliver, and he was Fennel. They were two men sharing an intimate moment. Then, he imagined Oliver getting pregnant. As a man. The pregnant man. It was impossible, but it provided comical imagery.
Fennel laughed.
Oliver looked at him with confusion.
"Why are you laughing?"
"N-Nothing," Fennel grinned.
"Uhuh," Oliver sighed. "Now you're the strange one."
Fennel looked at Oliver again, his eyes focusing on the bard's. He wished he had a mind reading ability, so he knew what was going through the man's head.
"Oliver?"
"Yes?"
"May I move closer?" Fennel asked in a whisper.
Oliver was surprised to hear such a request. The prince was full of many surprises.
"You didn't really need to ask," Oliver replied.
Fennel let go of his hand. He was second guessing himself, but he wanted to feel the bard's warmth against him.
He hesitated.
"What's wrong?" Oliver asked.
"N-Nothing."
Oliver found the bashfulness endearing. He figured he would make it easier on the feline. He reached out and wrapped his arm around the prince's waist, pushing gently against his lower back to urge him closer.
Before he knew it, the smaller feline was against him.
Everything in the world felt right.