“You’re too damned charming, Harry.” Kris clenched his fingers around Harry’s ankle. ”Hard to hate what you like so much.” A drawl filtered into his words as he spoke. “You’ve got it all. Loving father, brothers, girls at your feet, a kingdom to inherit … “
“May it seem that my life is rich and well done, that is only good things you see. Yea, most people would see that much more than consequences.” He sighed, “A kingdom I have to protect, and..they trust this to a prince whom drinks with the thieves, welcoming them as an old friend?” Hal scoffed, frowning. “Better off to leave it to my brothers, if I do not change.”
“Better by far than the nothing that is my lot, I assure you, Harry.” A thought occurred to Kris, and he hitched himself up to whisper in Hal’s ear, “You’re not going to see me again after tonight anyway. Give me what I want.”
Kris couldn’t resist the temptation to run a hand along Harry’s ankle, enjoying the feel of the leather against his skin. “What changes aren’t acceptable?” he coaxed.
Henry tensed along the touch, watching his hand cautiously. “I know not of what…
“Though hiding a goat from a family of wolves will have the elders starve. I cannot simply hide; I do not want to lie to him. He is to be the person to put the crown on my head—there, I will stand differently.” He muttered, trying not to move away, the young prince sighed, averting himself. “I cannot simply forget the person I had known for longest. I am my own, though I am also his flesh and blood, a first born, heir and a brother.”
“Oh, aye, shape yourself to his desire alone, and lose track of who you are in the process,” Kris half-sneered. “The pitiable life of a prince of the realm, lauded by whores and thieves and half-drunken, Henry’s golden son. I could hate you for this.”
Kris couldn’t resist the temptation to run a hand along Harry’s ankle, enjoying the feel of the leather against his skin. “What changes aren’t acceptable?” he coaxed.
Henry tensed along the touch, watching his hand cautiously. “I know not of what would be acceptable to my father. He is King of England; he knows wiser.” He said calmly, disregarding it from his mind, looking upward for a moment.
“What he doesn’t know won’t hurt him,” Kris murmured, wrapping his fingers around the inside of Harry’s ankle. “Forget him. You’re young and heedless, you do what you want. What do you want?”
“Oh, sure, let’s just … pass right out. What, do you want me to lose control?” Kris sighed and dragged his hands over his face. “My whole life is just strange right now,” he muttered under his breath.
“Hey, I had not meant it such.” He frowned, pulling his knees up so his arms rested on them. “Changes are indeed strange. Some not acceptable, others perhaps.” Hal murmured, now not sure of whom he was talking to now. Himself?
Kris couldn’t resist the temptation to run a hand along Harry’s ankle, enjoying the feel of the leather against his skin. “What changes aren’t acceptable?” he coaxed.
“Oh, gods,” Kris groaned. “You /asked/ me this, Harry, so no hitting. I like you. I mean, not just friendly ‘like to spend time with you’, more like sexual ‘like to undress you and make you unravel beneath my touch’. And now we’re just going to forget I said any of that, and mark it up to your never-to-be-sufficiently-damned ale.” He cracked one eye, watching Harry. Maybe, just maybe, he wouldn’t get beaten up over this stupidity.
“No hitting.” The prince reassured, his hands pushed behind his back to put emphasis to keep his word. He raised his eyebrows, looking down for a moment to think, processing what was to be said to him. There were many barriers, if the prince had liked it or not, despite his rebellious and conceited natures. Classes, families, perhaps even years (be it from 1598 to wherever he was from), and all the rest. Though he talks to the thieves, exclaims in the taverns and talks of in the illegal houses, that was only so far out of his reach.
He looked down to Kris, wondering what he should do; he knew not of what to look like, sympathetic, sad or accepting..nor did he know what to say. The prince lent a small smile, “Though the person will pass for the morrow if he drinks the more damned ale..”
“Oh, sure, let’s just … pass right out. What, do you want me to lose control?” Kris sighed and dragged his hands over his face. “My whole life is just strange right now,” he muttered under his breath.
“To think?” Kris tried to shake his head and discovered that made the ground shift a little more than he liked. He settled for folding down to sit right up next to Harry, liking the warmth of the other man. “I’d come here to /not/ think, I think. Did that even make sense? Is this being drunk? Cause I’m not sure I like it. I mean, I like you, but I’m not sure about the whole rest of thisssshit.”
Kris flopped backwards, bouncing his head off the grass, and squeezed his eyes shut. “Please tell me I did not just say that.”
Hal was not so accustomed to being so close, he shifted slightly to give a bit of distance though he turned to him when he spoke. “Words you speak would make sense if a person was drunken.” He replied with a short smile. He paused, wondering what in fact..he meant by his words; perhaps it was the cups of ale that were talking to him. He laughed lightly, tilting his head. “You are a strange one, indeed. Though; most everybody is strange in their own slights. What do you mean by your words? Come, tell me.” He said gently, but straight forward—being a bit of a habit.
“What say you? Though..I am not sure on what you wanted, or perhaps did not want to say.” The prince replied again, looking outward.
“Oh, gods,” Kris groaned. “You /asked/ me this, Harry, so no hitting. I like you. I mean, not just friendly ‘like to spend time with you’, more like sexual ‘like to undress you and make you unravel beneath my touch’. And now we’re just going to forget I said any of that, and mark it up to your never-to-be-sufficiently-damned ale.” He cracked one eye, watching Harry. Maybe, just maybe, he wouldn’t get beaten up over this stupidity.
“I wouldn’t want to take you away from your adoring people,” Kris grinned up at Harry. Shoving himself up from the seat, he dodged Francis. “But elsewhere, yes. My ears ring in here.” Following the Prince to the door, Kris added, “Where, then, now?”
“They are only few, the drunken minds are always so merry here.” He smiled lightly, waving a small goodbye to them all, most to be Poins and Falstaff and his men. The prince rubbed his arm from the warm sides of the tavern to the cold and darkening dirt town.
“Where then?” Hal raised a brow, turning to Kris as he spun around on the dirt road to look to him. “I know not. Where else? We have a more open space with the nature, if that suits better than a tavern.”
Kris couldn’t help the diffident shrug. “You know this whole area better than I, Harry. I was just feeling … a little closed in, if you understand, in there.” Was this being drunk? Where the world seemed a little more vibrant, the stars a little brighter, and the ground shifted slightly under one’s feet?
Kris made his steps slow and careful, and paid little heed to the words he was speaking, a little too close to Harry. “Let’s go somewhere we can be alone together.”
Kris settled himself more firmly into his seat. “I like to watch people have a good time, and you are very worth watching for that, Harry.” He let the smile turn a little wry. “Though I’ll gladly admit this isn’t really … to my taste. A little too crowded, really.” Raising his voice to a shout, he called “Francis!”
“I thanketh thee for thine words! Though I fear for the turn of one’s eye towards me, I am used to the drunken looks—not as others to say I am ‘worth’ that. Never mind that!” He shook his head, voice just barely audible, he leaned in close for him to hear. “Crowded, says you? Then elsewhere?” He suggested standing up against the rumbles of the ale bellied men.
“I wouldn’t want to take you away from your adoring people,” Kris grinned up at Harry. Shoving himself up from the seat, he dodged Francis. “But elsewhere, yes. My ears ring in here.” Following the Prince to the door, Kris added, “Where, then, now?”
“A bit cruel, to always make mock of him so, but he does seem to invite it.” Kris tossed back his third cup of ale, trying to decide if he was drinking too much. Did a male body have different tolerances than a female one? His taste buds seemed different, anyway; the ale was really good.
“Francis!”
Hal watched carefully, making sure the new found friend did not drink so much to pass out. The night was young—he was honestly surprised no officers had come to show to inspect the tavern, then the prince to play up a small scene for them with Peto.
Francis called back; “Anon, sir!” He shouted, running over, nearly slipping from his footing and spilling the ale, pouring it nervously as Hal had called back with another ‘Francis!’, turning around to have the ale spill at his face. Hal laughed anyway, wiping it away, Falstaff pausing for few moments to look over at the two, then continuing.
Kris emptied the cup, then spun it around on its base, musing. It seemed that male or female, hanging about in taverns was really just the same. Boisterous, exuberant, drunken men telling tall tales of their exploits to any who would listen. It just wasn’t to Kris’ taste after all.
But Harry seemed to be having fun. Unaware of the smile that curved his mouth, Kris let his eyes rest on the boyish Prince.
Hal laughed merrily along with the men and screeching women that waled along with the drunkards as well as all the other folks to hear such comedies. The spilling of drinks as well as breaking wooden chairs and the chorus of the laughter was a very common area; freely to spend time and befriend the thieves and liars of the tavern. Not yet had his plans unfolded for a noble warrior and future king.
He caught the other man’s smile, taking another look to it with his cup of ale in his other hand. “What say’st thou to stare? Falstaff’s eyes are wavering, you can slip under his nose; mine perhaps of need to falter; the knotty pated fool has the eyes of a wise old man though he looks blindly..” He said in a low whisper in comparison to everybody else, though his sly smile and quick words were much to understand.
Kris settled himself more firmly into his seat. “I like to watch people have a good time, and you are very worth watching for that, Harry.” He let the smile turn a little wry. “Though I’ll gladly admit this isn’t really … to my taste. A little too crowded, really.” Raising his voice to a shout, he called “Francis!”
“A bit cruel, to always make mock of him so, but he does seem to invite it.” Kris tossed back his third cup of ale, trying to decide if he was drinking too much. Did a male body have different tolerances than a female one? His taste buds seemed different, anyway; the ale was really good.
“Francis!”
Hal watched carefully, making sure the new found friend did not drink so much to pass out. The night was young—he was honestly surprised no officers had come to show to inspect the tavern, then the prince to play up a small scene for them with Peto.
Francis called back; “Anon, sir!” He shouted, running over, nearly slipping from his footing and spilling the ale, pouring it nervously as Hal had called back with another ‘Francis!’, turning around to have the ale spill at his face. Hal laughed anyway, wiping it away, Falstaff pausing for few moments to look over at the two, then continuing.
Kris emptied the cup, then spun it around on its base, musing. It seemed that male or female, hanging about in taverns was really just the same. Boisterous, exuberant, drunken men telling tall tales of their exploits to any who would listen. It just wasn’t to Kris’ taste after all.
But Harry seemed to be having fun. Unaware of the smile that curved his mouth, Kris let his eyes rest on the boyish Prince.