Chapter 5 #4
"But Christian changed things. All of a sudden Freddie didn't have any time for us anymore, and somehow everything was him and Christian against Sigrid and I.
All their games were mean, their teasing had a real bite to it.
I remember being thirteen and trying to get Freddie to play something with me — soldiers, I think, with a metal set of Hussarrs we had.
He used to make up the best stories with me.
But Christian pulled him away saying that the Crown Prince shouldn't want to play baby games with his baby brother. "
"Anyway. After that, it was almost like I'd disappeared from the family.
Freddie didn't see me, Sigrid was busy, so it was just me.
Eventually, I started going out into the town on my own.
I think I tried it the first time because I assumed that someone would catch me and stop me.
But, it never happened. And I loved the anonymity.
In the winter with a heavy scarf and a hat, no one could tell that I was any different from anyone else on the street.
There was this place, in Old Stockholm…"
Harald's voice caught in his throat. He'd never really told anyone about those nights on his own, about the jazz club that had been his first taste of rebellion.
He'd learned to drink whiskey neat and dance until his feet ached.
It was people like Jakob who had taught him to smoke cigarettes, to curse, to laugh without restraint — and more than that, watching them steal kisses in dark corners.
For those precious hours, he hadn't been a prince.
Just someone seeking connection in the shadows, with a memory of warm hands and secret smiles that, even though they'd never amounted to much still burned in his chest when he left before dawn, his clothes reeking of tobacco and freedom, back to his gilded cage.
"One night," Hal continued, his voice dropping lower, "there was a raid.
The police burst in, looking for contraband alcohol and heaven knows what else.
Everyone scattered – it was chaos. I ended up hiding in a storage closet with three other people.
" He laughed softly at the memory. "We were pressed so close together I could feel their hearts racing.
One of them was a university student who started reciting poetry to keep calm.
Another was a jazz singer who hummed under her breath. "
His hands twisted in his lap. "We stayed there for nearly an hour, and in that time, those strangers told me more truth about their lives than anyone in the palace ever had.
The student was in love with his professor's daughter.
The singer was saving money to move to Paris.
They had no idea they were confiding in a prince, and I...
" He swallowed hard. "I told them things too.
Real things. About feeling trapped, about wanting something more than what was planned for me. "
The weight of Jakob's gaze made him pause. "When we finally crept out, they made me promise to come back the next week. I did, but I never saw them again. Sometimes I wonder what happened to them, those people who knew me better in one hour than my own family does after twenty years."
Jakob shifted closer, his hand finding Hal's in the darkness. "And now? Who knows you?"
"Sigrid, sometimes." Hal's voice was barely a whisper. "And maybe... you?" The last word came out as a question, hopeful and terrified all at once.
"I'd like to." Jakob's thumb traced circles on Hal's palm, sending shivers up his arm. "If you'd let me."
Hal's breath caught in his throat. "We shouldn't," he whispered, even as he leaned closer. "Christian already suspects... he'll make sure it gets back to my mother."
"I know." Jakob's free hand came up to cup Hal's cheek, his thumb brushing across his cheekbone. The touch was achingly gentle. "Tell me to stop."
"I can't." Hal turned his face into Jakob's palm, heart thundering in his chest. "I don't want to."
The first brush of their lips was tentative, questioning.
Then Jakob made a soft sound in the back of his throat, and Hal was lost. He pressed closer, one hand sliding into Jakob's curls as the kiss deepened.
It felt like falling and flying all at once, like every clandestine moment in Stockholm had been merely practice for this, for the way Jakob's mouth moved against his, careful but hungry.
When they finally broke apart, breathing hard, Jakob rested his forehead against Hal's. "We are going to get ourselves into so much trouble," he whispered, but he was smiling.
"It would be worth it," Hal replied, and pulled him back down.
Jakob's hands trembled slightly as they framed Hal's face, as if he couldn't quite believe he was allowed to touch. "I keep thinking that this is a dream," he murmured against Hal's lips. "Dawn will come and I'll wake up."
"Jakob," Hal breathed, then hesitated as Jakob's mouth moved to his throat. His hands fluttered uncertainly at Jakob's shoulders. "I... I don't know what I'm doing."
Jakob pulled back immediately, his eyes soft. "It's okay," he whispered. "It doesn't have to be anything more than this."
"I want to," Hal said quickly, heat flooding his cheeks. "I just... I've never..."
They kissed again, slower this time, with careful hands and whispered reassurances.
Jakob's fingers mapped the line of Hal's jaw, his shoulders, his chest over his rumpled shirt.
They learned each other in stolen hours - the way Jakob's breath hitched when Hal's fingers found the sensitive spot behind his ear, how Hal melted completely when Jakob whispered his name against his skin.
They kissed until their mouths were tender, until they were breathless and aching, until exhaustion finally claimed them both.
Sleep took them both in the small hours of the morning, and as a chill settled over the land they curled closer to one another for warmth, sleeping with Jakob's head tucked safely into Harald's shoulder, their arms around one another.
Jakob was up with the sun, slowly sneaking his limbs out from under Harald, and tucking the edges of his jacket tightly around him.
"Stay?" Harald whispered, somewhere between sleeping and waking, still drowning in what already felt like his very best dreams.
"I can't." Jakob said quietly.
"Please?" He heard himself ask, sleep-ruffled and sweet.
"Ssh. Sleep, my prince." Jakob whispered.
There was a smile in his voice, and he was so near that Hal could feel his breath ghosting over his dry lips.
Then there was quiet — and maybe, just before he fell back into sleep, the sensation of small, blunt fingers tucking into his hair, brushing it back and the pressure of a light, sweet kiss to his lips.
By the time Hal came back to himself enough to reach up, to want to press into the kiss and taste it, Jakob was gone.