Fennel softly rested his face against Oliver's chest, feeling the bard's arm wrapped firmly around his waist. They were close, and their bodies touched.
Neither of them could be happier.
The copper-haired feline's hand moved to rest next to his face, and his fingers clutched the fabric of Oliver's sleep tunic.
He breathed in the scent. It was a soft musk mixed with woody pine. He smelled fantastic. The prince couldn't get enough of his scent.
Fennel's eyes closed as he rested against the taller man, his body relaxing from the close contact. It was as if all his fears had suddenly melted away, replaced with a sense of peace.
"Thank you," he whispered against his chest.
Oliver smiled. His fingers traced soothing patterns against the prince's lower back. His eyes closed as he also relaxed.
The bard felt like he would be satisfied if he could stay where he currently was forever. Something about holding the prince felt right.
"It's my pleasure," Oliver whispered, as he rested his chin against the top of Fennel's soft head of hair.
How could Oliver ever possibly confess his feelings in words? He felt like their close contact was confession enough, but without verbal confirmation, they may continue to act like they were just friends.
They were more than just friends. He knew it. He knew Fennel felt something for him, he just wasn't sure what. The friend title wasn't enough to describe them, but he was unsure what word he would use.
He was just happy to not be the only one with a longing in their heart, but somehow, he felt it would make it harder to resist falling deeper and deeper in love.
"Do you feel you will be able to sleep now?" Oliver asked him.
"Yes," Fennel whispered as his breaths slowed, indicating to him that the prince was almost asleep.
The only noise that remained in the room was the sound of their breaths and the crickets outside.
***********
The morning came too soon.
Oliver woke to the sun shining on his face. He let out a yawn, then opened his eyes slowly. When he woke, he found Fennel in the same position he had fallen asleep in during the night.
Neither one of them seemed to have moved an inch during their deep slumber.
The bard moved his hand to the back of Fennel's head. He inhaled the sweet scent of his copper locks. His long fingers ran through the strands of hair, brushing through them in slow, continuous motions.
Oliver wanted to keep him there forever. It could be just the two of them. If he could just escape with Fennel and free him from his responsibilities, they could have each other. Their life together could be so happy and filled with love.
If only.
He realized those thoughts were selfish. He knew he could never do such a thing, nor would Fennel agree. The prince's sense of duty to the people of Charoux was too grand. He figured there was no way Fennel would sacrifice his kingdom's prosperity for his own desires.
They had not known each other long, but he knew the prince well enough to figure that out.
When Fennel finally woke up, his eyes stayed closed. He clutched Oliver's robe tighter, but pulled his head back.
"Good morning, Fennel," Oliver said with a sweet, gentle tone.
Fennel smiled and forced his eyes open. The sight he saw was the best he could hope for. Oliver really did spend the night next to him, just holding him.
"Good morning," Fennel muttered.
Oliver leaned his head forward and softly pressed his lips against the prince's forehead. The kiss caused Fennel's smile to brighten further.
"You're in a terrific mood," Oliver observed.
"Ah, w-well," Fennel's cheeks flushed pink. "I am, aren't I?"
"I figured you would have been grumpy in the mornings," Oliver sighed, his fingertips rubbing a section of copper hair between them.
"Usually," Fennel admitted. "This is a special morning."
"Is it because you'll become king today?"
"No, not at all," Fennel whined.
"Is that so?" Oliver asked with a grin.
"Mm, now I'm in a bad mood," Fennel frowned. "You had to say something about that."
"Could I fix your mood?" Oliver smirked, feeling more and more confident in the unspoken shared feelings.
"I don't think so," Fennel looked shyly away.
"Could I try?" Oliver asked.
Fennel looked back up at the bard. He felt a lingering touch over the back of his neck, which caused a shiver to run through his spine. It was such a pleasant sensation. He wanted to feel it again.
His ears wiggled ever so slightly.
Oliver brushed his lips against Fennel's cheeks, softly kissing the prince's skin. His lips lingered in their position, then he moved his mouth against the shell of the feline's ear.
"You're going to do great today," Oliver whispered against his ear. "Have faith."
Fennel gasped. He slid his hand up to the bard's shoulder. The warmth of his breath and the slight purr in his voice felt even better than the touch to the back of his neck.
"You're adorable," Oliver whispered, again against Fennel's ear.
Fennel closed his eyes. His body was reacting to the new sensations. He felt his lower abdomen tightening. It was quite embarrassing how he uncontrollably responded so easily to a whisper.
Oliver moved his hand and gently scratched behind one of the fur-covered copper cat ears. When he did so, he felt Fennel squirming against him. The reaction delighted him. If his ears were sensitive to touch, he knew his tail would be even more so.
Sadly, Oliver knew he had to behave himself, but not before one more action.
Before pulling his head back, the bard parted his lips. His teeth lightly grazed against Fennel's earlobe, and he gave it a quick nibble.
The action caused Fennel to press himself firmly against Oliver, and his hand to hold tightly onto his shoulder.
Oliver smirked when he looked at Fennel's face. He was a bit of a mess, which proved to the bard that nobody had ever touched the young prince in such a manner.
The reaction was going to drive him wild. He already knew sleeping in the same bed as Fennel was out of the question. He didn't know how long he would be able to contain himself if it became a routine occurrence.
The bard could feel the excitement of the other man pressing up against him. It was causing him to feel aroused himself.
The game was too dangerous to play.
Oliver knew he had no choice but to stop himself, but it would eventually become too difficult if he was holding onto the prince during the night.
"Oliver," Fennel whispered, lightly panting. "W-What was that for?"
"I don't know," Oliver smiled. "I just wanted to see you squirm once in my life."
"T-That's a bit cruel," Fennel pouted.
"You're pout is too cute," Oliver sighed.
"Now you're making fun of me."
"That's definitely not what I'm doing," Oliver corrected him. "I mean it when I say it. I find you to be the cutest. Seriously."
Fennel blushed and sighed. He leaned his face back against Oliver's chest to hide his embarrassment. "It's not everyday I get a compliment from a handsome bard."
Oliver moved his arm back around the feline, holding him close as he rubbed his back. He felt overjoyed by the words the prince uttered.
It would be best to change the subject, for the sake of both of them.
"When is the coronation?" Oliver asked.
"Not too long from now."
"We best get up," Oliver suggested.
"I don't want to yet," Fennel groaned. "I want to stay here a little longer. Please?"
"Just a little," Oliver agreed, unable to say no to such a request.
He didn't really want to move himself, but he knew it was going to be a very busy day.
Fennel wrapped his arms around Oliver's neck, nuzzling his face against his chest. He felt he could get used to the warmth. He felt so safe, secure, and happy.
As they cuddled together, Fennel's chest fluttered. He realized he had quickly fallen in love with the silver-haired bard.
As strong as his emotions were, a fear loomed inside of him. He knew the traditions of the kingdom were going to get in the way of how he felt about being next to Oliver.
In the end, how he felt didn't matter. His fate would dictate otherwise.
Oliver felt a surge of emotions himself. The sweet prince was clinging to him in such a charming way. He didn't realize how amazing it would feel to have him in his arms and to just hold onto each other. In the moment, it felt perfect. Nothing could have been more perfect.
The moment was interrupted by a loud knock on the door.
Fennel suddenly pulled back. He was glad he had locked his door before climbing into bed.
A bit panicked, he stood from the bed in a haste and looked at Oliver. His ears stood straight up in the air.
"Hide in the closet," Fennel whispered, and he pointed toward a door on the other side of the room.
Oliver sighed. What a terrible situation. If anyone found out, he would rot in a dungeon or be hanged.
Though, he was sure it wouldn't come to that, If nobody found out about it until Fennel was crowned king, he was sure the feline would pull strings to prevent that.
Maybe.