#like he had an eight hour stream where he and martyn just walked around the server (in third life specially)

[ireallyliketalldarksultrymen]

m&m, *adjusts mic* opinions on treebark?

froggert. they. they make me the unwellest of unwell oh my word it’s not even funny anymore. i need to bang their heads against the wall and then my own and ohhhhh the brainrot isn’t making me sane

[memryse]

The magic of 3rd Life, or why such a simple hardcore miniseries works as well as it does

For a series which only lasted for eight sessions, 3rd Life has had a profound impact on the MCYT fandom. While it did go comparatively unnoticed on Twitter (as is consistent with YouTube-based Minecraft content as a whole, admittedly), Tumblr and other platforms have fallen in love with this series, and it’s become a vector for many fans to familiarise themselves with Hermitcraft and Empires SMP as well. But at its core, 3rd Life is a simple vanilla survival series with a gimmick. What about it resonates so much with so many people?

I would argue that its simplicity, its small cast, its vanilla gameplay “with a twist” is certainly part of it. It’s an easy series to consume, with many POVs totalling four hours or less, and it doesn’t require any prior knowledge of any of the members. Its mechanics are easy to understand. As a standalone, it functions perfectly – it’s immersive and can be followed easily by anyone, regardless of any prior knowledge they may or may not have. However, these factors alone don’t quite encompass what makes 3rd Life so special. Its true charm point lies in the format of the series, and how well it utilises improv.

[more below the cut; this is a fairly long post about 3rd/Last Life meta and my love of its improv. I'm mostly talking about 3rd Life here as it's a completed series, but this most definitely does apply to Last Life as well]

3rd Life is an entirely improv-based series. Whilst members may have a brief concept of the direction they’d like to take their series in – how heavily they want to roleplay, for example – the actual content of each session is fully improvised. Each episode is recorded in one three-hour block, and members are not allowed to play on the server outside of the allotted time other than specifically to finish builds. This time constraint prevents any planning from going into each episode, and interactions between players are completely spontaneous. Players simply run around the map looking for others to interact with (which is significantly easier with the limited world border) and chat about various events on the server, form alliances or deals, etc.

By definition, this almost completely negates the possibility of bad writing. Each player’s reaction to any server event is spontaneous, a legitimate reaction; they aren’t trying to play any specific roles or shoehorn in any specific events (with the exception of the Red King/Hand of the King roles, who were still completely improvising). Even the finale – a distinctly heart-wrenching and tragic scene – was improvised without Grian or Scar attempting to tell any specific story. According to Martyn, they weren’t roleplaying, they didn’t have any aims with that scene. It just happened to turn out in the way that it did, and they were legitimately sorry to one another. The server progressed in this natural way, and every person’s perspective tells a completely different story. It’s hard to identify any specific heroes or villains – fans of the Dream SMP can surely relate to this feeling, but I would argue that 3rd Life takes this one step further. 3rd Life is a tragedy from all perspectives, a tragedy which tells one cohesive story in its entirety before stopping as abruptly as it began.

3rd Life hinges entirely on its interactions between its members. Whilst solo content does exist – base building, for example – the majority of each session is spent interacting with others. 3rd Life is carried by its dialogue; nothing else drives the story, and yet many episodes are between 30 minutes and an hour long. It’s that dialogue-heavy. Members of the server have expressed trouble with even editing their videos because there is so much key dialogue that they don’t want to cut. People don’t watch 3rd Life for the actual gameplay, at all – there’s so little of it! They watch it for how each member interacts with the people around them. This is something not found in any other SMP I’ve encountered. SMPs livestreamed on Twitch have plenty of downtime, and people will happily watch streams on that SMP no matter what’s occurring on the server; people often watch them for their interest in specific members. Other currently popular YouTube SMPs, namely Hermitcraft and Empires, are well-balanced between solo content and interactions, and all server content hinges on the members’ various skills like building and redstone. 3rd Life is, to my knowledge, the only SMP which does not rely on building or redstone skills (what’s the point, when they’ll be dead the next week?), it doesn’t rely on the creator doing solo work talking to their chat, it doesn’t rely on planned roleplay. People legitimately just want to hear various members talking to each other. It’s a fascinatingly unique series in this regard. This dialogue-heavy aspect of 3rd Life ties back to my earlier point about 3rd Life feeling like a completely different series from all perspectives; with all of this dialogue being conveyed through proximity chat, so many events are entirely left out of other POVs, or presented in very different lights.

The pure improv format also helps significantly with worldbuilding, whilst also leaving plenty to the imagination. MCYT fandoms always require a significant amount of imagination to become invested in them, let alone make fan content of them, and 3rd Life is no exception to this. As discussed in this post, which was incidentally the inspiration for me to write this one, 3rdLife is full of lines which flesh out the series, which illustrate what happened better than can be shown in Minecraft. These lines are improvised on the spot, and are often complete throwaway lines in the creators’ eyes. In the fans’ eyes, they make 3rd Life feel alive, they provide plenty of material on which to base headcanons. Again, this isn’t necessarily unique to 3rd Life, it’s a common aspect of all Minecraft series, but I think this is where the rather angsty nature of 3rd Life comes into play. A dramatic survival game, entirely unscripted, with all events hinging entirely on your interpretation of them? It’s not hard to see why 3rd Life fans are so creative with character designs and fanfiction – hell, a lot of 3rd Life fics simply narrate canon in their own more dramatic light. Canon-compliant fics are significantly more common for 3rd Life than other fandoms I've encountered, because people hear these simple lines and want to dramatise them, put their own spins on them. I don't feel that this would be possible with any other series, not to the extent that 3rd Life fans do it. Other series' canon is either already dramatic, and so rehashing it can feel repetitive, or so lighthearted that people write AUs/new storylines. 3rd Life strikes a brand-new balance.

The development of its characters is also bolstered by improv. As no events on the server are pre-planned, members have to react completely spontaneously to anything that occurs. They don’t get time to think – only to react as though they genuinely were in that situation. As I said at the start, 3rd Life inherently lacks bad writing, because it’s not written. Ren, for instance, began 3rd Life as a kind and harmless person, with others often walking right over him. His reaction to his death by Grian and Scar’s trap spurs him to become the Red King; he raises an army and goes to war, and ends the series having taken countless lives, becoming hardened by war. He begins Last Life by isolating himself from others, seeming jaded and unwilling to form alliances, ready for another war to break out. Being improvised, it’s impossible to say how much of this was deliberate, or if Ren just started building his base without thinking about continuity from the previous season. This improv is what makes it feel so natural. It isn’t planned beforehand. This is Ren’s natural reaction to starting Last Life. It makes his character feel so much more real than it would if this was all scripted beforehand.

3rd Life is, overall, a testament to the power of improv. It manages to be compelling and dramatic without any acting feeling forced or wooden. Its characters’ arcs feel natural, because they are natural. Placing such a heavy emphasis on dialogue, with the gimmick of the server being a vehicle for interactions to happen rather than the sole appeal of the series, makes it truly feel as though we’re getting a glimpse into the characters’ lives, rather than watching a story which has been written beforehand. We get to watch everything unfold in real time. 3rd Life has a magic to it that, to my knowledge, no other SMP has been able to recreate.

[nebulous-frog]

The Path to Happiness Ch. 2/7

Summary: Phil, Prince of Stratalary, has an arranged marriage with Daniel, Prince of Iridacia. He doesn’t think he’ll have any feelings for the prince, that is, until he meets him.

Chapter 1 Masterlist

Word Count: 30,000 overall

Genre: Fantasy AU, Arranged Marriage, Slow Burn, Fluff

Warnings: Some Swearing, Food Mentions

Link to AO3 Fics Masterlist

The day of the wedding began much too early in the morning. Apparently, Phil needed to get cleaned, shaved, decorated, dressed, and all manner of other things before he could so much as breathe.

He was awoken at the ungodly hour of five in the morning by a stream of servants pouring into his room. One drew the curtains, revealing the beginnings of sunrise, while others opened wardrobes, prepared a bath, or dragged the covers off him.

Phil sat up in surprise, then jumped when a few servants began touching his face and hair, presumably to figure out how much work they’d have to do.

“What- can you-” he began, desperately trying to get his bearings. The servants weren’t paying him any mind as he stuttered until he finally found a voice and yelled, “Everyone stop!”

The command was only moderately successful. People continued bustling about the room, but at least the people touching him let him go.

“Is everything alright, Your Highness?” a woman asked, hands hovering near his hair.

Phil hesitated. You’re getting married for the kingdom. You have to get dressed up. Just let it happen. “Y-yes, I’m fine. I just need a moment to breathe. Could you all take a step back for me? Please?” he pleaded. “Only for a moment. I know you have a lot of work to do.”

The servants exchanged a glance, then nodded and stepped back a few feet to give him some space.

Immediately, Phil felt like he could breathe again. He closed his eyes and breathed deeply, trying to calm down. He thought about why he was doing this and what was at stake. It will be alright. You’ve prepared for this your whole life. Let them do their jobs. He opened his eyes and nodded at the servants.

“Go ahead,” he said, allowing himself to be led over to a chair.

For the next few hours, he didn’t have control over his own body. Other people pulled him this way and that, and he let them, patiently playing the role of a doll for them to make up and beautify. One of the main wedding coordinators, Judy, talked him through the day again, helping him rehearse his vows and reminding him how to bow for the Iridacians. There was a lot of pomp and circumstance going into the day and it all had to be managed perfectly.

Phil hated pomp and circumstance most times, but especially now. It was just a reminder that he was being used as a bargaining chip in an international game of politics.

He forced himself to ignore the voice in his head telling him all the rumours about the Iridacians and reiterating the loneliness he was sure to feel in the strange kingdom that would soon be his home. Phil was an optimist as much as possible, but he was having a hard time seeing the bright side of his own future. Since he couldn’t find the happiness, he shut off his thoughts and focused on doing his duty: be diplomatic, be polite, and marry the prince.

When the servants were finished, they put him in front of a mirror so he could admire their work. Phil looked at himself for a moment, but everything about what he saw felt so wrong that he couldn’t stomach it. His skin sparkled, his suit accentuated his figure, the garments represented so much, and Phil couldn’t handle it. The man he saw in the mirror may have been him, but he had never felt so out of place in his own skin in his life.

Smile. It’s your wedding day. Aren’t you happy? a cruel voice snickered in his mind. Phil shook his head to clear it. The voice was right, even if it was harsh. He had to smile and pretend this was what he wanted. Be diplomatic. Be polite. Marry the prince.

He turned and gave a practised smile. His years of princely duties made it look almost natural rather than forced.

“Thank you,” he told the servants around him. “You made me look amazing.”

The servants beamed at him and bowed. When they had straightened, Judy stepped forward.

“Sir,” she said gently. “It’s time to get in the carriage.”

He nodded, then gestured for her to lead the way.

As they walked down the long corridors to the entrance of the palace, Judy slipped him a bread roll.

“With all due respect, Your Highness, you have to eat something. I know you must be nervous, but please. Eat this. You won’t have a chance again until this evening.”

Phil blinked in surprise. He hadn’t thought he was allowed to eat once he was in his wedding clothes, and he’d been too startled upon waking to eat anything before getting dressed.

“Oh, thank you, Judy,” he mumbled. Although he didn’t want to, he conceded the fact that he would need food before the processional began. He was terrible at diplomacy and politeness when hungry. So he took the bread from her and took a small bite, being careful not to let any crumbs fall down his front.

When they reached the doors to the palace, they stopped. On the other side of the huge metal doors, the white, roofless, pegasus-drawn carriage would be waiting, along with a crowd of people excited to see their prince off to be wed.

Judy turned to Phil and gave him a once-over, then nodded once.

“You look amazing, Your Highness. Just remember to smile and wave to the crowds, and you’ll be there before you know it,” she said with a smile.

Phil managed to smile in return. “Thank you.”

She bowed as he walked past her and out of the palace.

~~~~~~~~~~

The carriage ride was long. Very long.

The wedding would take place directly on the border between Iridacia and Stratalary, which meant the procession would take almost a full day of nonstop travel. The journey began at the Stratalarian palace in the mountains at nine in the morning and passed through several cities and prominent villages, each with Stratalarians waiting in large crowds for a glimpse of royalty.

Everyone expected Phil to smile at them and wave. Even years of training in diplomacy couldn’t prepare Phil for the agonizingly extended period of muscle use. Occasionally, they would pass through some empty countryside or a dense forest without seeing anyone and Phil would immediately slump back in his seat and relax his face muscles.

The only people in the carriage were Phil, the carriage driver, a knight, and another wedding planner. Phil was fairly certain his name was Tom, but he couldn’t be sure. Whatever his name, he didn’t speak to Phil unless answering a direct question, and even then he’d only use the fewest possible words before falling silent once more. The knight was worse; he wouldn’t even answer questions. Phil had given up on communication within the first hour, resigning himself to a torturous eight hours of silent travel.

The silence gave him plenty of time to consider his situation again, which he had wanted to avoid. Unfortunately, his thoughts got away from him and the anxiety began to set in, especially in the few periods away from the public view.

I don’t know him. He doesn’t know me. We don’t even know what the other looks like. How am I supposed to marry a man I’ve never seen? In what world is this a good idea? Phil shifted uncomfortably in his seat. Martyn said he was nice. How does he know? How do I know that this man won’t lock me away the second I get to Iridacia? What am I supposed to do with my time there? I won’t have any rights or power or responsibility, so am I to just sit around, following the king and the prince’s every order? Phil didn’t like that thought. In Stratalary, he didn’t have much power, but he always tried to be a voice for the people. He had made it his goal to meet as many citizens of the kingdom as possible and know their struggles, hoping to help Martyn understand the plight of the people. Would he be able to do that in Iridacia? The Iridacians were terrified of Stratalarians, no doubt, just as the Stratalarians were afraid of the Iridacians. Beyond that, what would the king allow him to do?

Phil had no answers to his questions, so they rattled around his mind unendingly, fueling the anxiety. When the carriage passed through populated areas again and he waved at the crowds, his eyes widened. Thick clouds were forming all around the carriage, which meant he wasn’t controling himself. His nerves were manifesting themselves in clouds that were now visible to all the people they passed. He quickly willed them away and clamped down on his emotions. Princes weren’t supposed to be afraid of their own wedding. It seemed like the crowds weren’t concerned, luckily; Phil figured they thought he was just feeling the normal pre-wedding nerves rather than an all-encompassing anxiety about the future.

The closer the carriage got to the border, the more people they encountered. Phil had anticipated there being large crowds of people, but this was at a higher level than he had ever thought would happen. For the last three hours of the ride, he was constantly smiling and waving at crowds. By the time the carriage pulled to a halt at the base of the state building where he’d freshen up before the ceremony, his arm felt about ready to fall off.

Phil’s royal guard opened the door of the carriage and gestured for him to step down. Phil took a fraction of a second to breathe, thinking, It’s almost time, then stepped off the carriage and into a huddled group of handlers and servants, who immediately led him up the steps and into a small room full of mirrors.

He was guided to a chair near the centre of the room, then the servants converged. It was a blur of hair and make-up retouches that he didn’t care to follow. A few times, someone would tsk at him for apparently damaging the overall look on the way by touching his face or hair, and he’d give them a sheepish smile.

“Sorry, I play with my hair when I’m nervous,” he told them.

The servants all cooed in response, rushing to reassure him that he looked beautiful for his wedding and telling him not to worry because it would all turn out well.

He appreciated their intentions, but they felt rather empty. They couldn’t possibly know how it would turn out or understand what he was so worried about.

For the ride to the border, they had left the veil headpiece off him. People wanted to see the prince’s face as he rode past, after all. Now, however, it was delicately placed on his head, resting in his quiffed black hair. The veil was thin and didn’t particularly obscure his face from view, but it was the tradition of the garment that mattered.

Looking in a mirror, Phil appreciated the aesthetic. He really did. But he still couldn’t find it in himself to like how he looked in it. It all felt so wrong.

“Thank you for fixing where I messed it up,” he said to the servants.

They hurriedly assured him that it wasn’t his fault, really, and it was their pleasure anyway, bowing several times.

His royal guard came into the room and told him it was time to leave for the ceremony. Phil nodded, thanked everyone again, and followed the guard out of the room. They walked in silence down a few long hallways before finally coming to the back side of the state building and the fancy double doors that would lead along a path to the bridge between the kingdoms.

Someone handed Phil a massive bouquet of white and pink roses. He’d been told they symbolized a combination of innocence and thanks, which he figured was appropriate. Both nations were thanking him for marrying the Iridacian prince and solidifying the treaty to end the armistice, after all. Someone else directed him to a predetermined spot in front of the double doors, then told him to wait a moment.

Phil stood nervously, trying not to fidget. A rather large group of people were watching him, supposedly all waiting for the doors to open and for him to walk down the aisle. The aisle, of course, was around half a mile long, since he had to walk from the state building to the river and then onto a bridge. It would be a lot of time for Phil to feel his anxiety growing before he finally met his betrothed.

I still haven’t met him, Phil thought desperately. I’m about to walk half a mile to marry a man I have never seen before in my life, and I have to pretend I’m happy about it. I have to pretend not to be repulsed by this whole thing, by him. What am I gonna do?

Eventually, an arm slid between his own and his side, making him jump.

“Martyn,” he breathed. “You scared me.”

Martyn gave him a small smile. “Sorry, little brother. I thought you were expecting me, since I’m giving you away and all that.”

Phil tried not to think about how accurate that statement was.

“Right. Sorry,” he said, shaking his head to clear it. “I guess I’m just nervous.” He avoided meeting Martyn’s gaze. He didn’t want to see the pity he knew he would find there.

“That’s understandable,” Martyn mumbled. Phil could feel Martyn’s eyes scanning his face through the veil, probably trying to determine if he needed to delay the wedding so Phil could calm down.

“Let’s get this over with,” Phil insisted. Delaying would only make it worse.

Martyn nodded, still looking at him. “You look amazing, you know.”

Phil shrugged. “It’s my wedding day. But if we don’t get moving soon, it’ll turn into my wedding week.”

Martyn chuckled lightly. “Alright, we can go.” He faced the doors and squared his shoulders, then nodded at the guards to open them.

Phil barely had time to compose himself once more before Martyn was gently pulling him forward. That was for the best, if he was being honest with himself; any longer, and Phil wouldn’t have had any composure to regain.

He didn’t remember much of the walk by the time they made it to the bridge. It felt both longer and shorter than he had expected: longer because of his straining muscles as he continued to smile as he had been all day but shorter because of the distinct lack of thoughts. He’d forced his thoughts out of his head, with a little help from Martyn’s presence at his side.

They could hear the string quartet playing the processional music. Phil didn’t recognize it, so he assumed it was Iridacian. The bridge itself was large, having been built specifically for this purpose. It was wide enough to fit the highest members of both Iridacian and Stratalarian society side by side with room for an altar at the front. After the wedding, the bridge would remain standing as a sign of the open borders between the two kingdoms, and a statue would be commissioned of the princes getting married in the spot where the altar now stood.

Phil made himself focus on these facts as Martyn guided him up the aisle so he wouldn’t think too much about what would happen when Martyn’s arm left his.

That is, until Phil was close enough to see the Iridacian prince.

Prince Daniel already stood at the altar, waiting for Phil to be given away. He was dressed similarly to Phil, but where Phil mostly wore white, he mostly wore dark green. His suit was a deep forest green and the jacket was embroidered with purple and blue flowers. The trousers had black vines curling around the legs and were held up with a belt of braided vines. Settled around his shoulders was a green cape with flowers to match his suit jacket. On the collar and at the end of the train were white clouds of fluff, just like Phil’s own cape. Prince Daniel didn’t have a veil, of course, because he was the Crown Prince; officially, he wasn’t the one being traded like property. He did, however, have a crown, which was nestled delicately in his curly brown hair. The crown was fluffy like the ends of his cape.

Together, he and Phil would look like a perfect combination of their kingdoms.

Phil tried to take all this in as clinically as possible. He didn’t want to let his emotions make a judgement of his soon-to-be-husband before they had had the chance to speak to each other. He mostly succeeded in that goal, but he did notice a few things that weren’t strictly objective.

He’s very pretty, at least, was his first thought. He has a nice smile, but I don’t think it’s real. Just because he’s not leaving his home like me doesn’t mean he wasn’t forced into this marriage, too. Phil’s eyes scanned the prince (my prince- he’s about to be my husband) again. His hair looks soft. I wonder if it feels soft, too. I suppose I’ll find out soon enough.

By this point, Phil was at the end of the aisle. Martyn’s arm was slipping out of his, then subtly tugging on his hand to get him to turn and face him.

Martyn gave him a sorry smile, though the people watching probably didn’t notice the guilt in it. He was great at hiding his emotions behind a fake smile by now. In compliance with what must have been an Iridacian custom, Martyn bowed slightly and kissed Phil’s hand, before passing it into Prince Daniel’s. It was warm and a little sweaty.

“I pass on my own flesh and blood to begin his future,” Martyn stated.

“I take him with great anticipation and hope,” Prince Daniel replied. He spoke loudly so all in attendance could hear, his voice smooth and even. It had a softer edge to it, though, something that Phil found strangely reassuring.

Phil didn’t particularly know what the words meant, since it was yet another Iridacian tradition, but he wasn’t sure he liked the connotation. He felt like property.

Not that that’s unusual, at this point, he thought to himself.

Martyn inclined his head in a small bow, then backed up to his spot at Phil’s side.

Phil finally looked at his betrothed from up close and had to hold in a gasp. If Prince Daniel had looked pretty from far away, he looked downright heavenly up close. His skin looked as smooth as silk and was lightly freckled. Phil wanted to trace the freckles into constellations on his tan cheeks and nose. And his nose, god, Phil didn’t even know why but he loved it already. Dimples poked into his prince’s cheeks and all Phil wanted to do was poke them oh-so-gently. On his jaw rested a small rosy patch that Phil had the urgent desire to kiss. Tracking his gaze up Prince Daniel’s face, he looked into his eyes and saw that he had big brown doe eyes like melting chocolate flaked with gold.

He noticed the prince looking over his own face and immediately felt self-conscious. It was a Stratalarian custom for the bride to wear extravagant makeup, complete with dramatic light blue eyeshadow, thick mascara, and matching blue lipstick. Since Phil was the one being given away, he carried those customs. He hadn’t minded earlier, but now he just wished his prince could see his face for real.

When the prince’s eyes wandered up and met Phil’s, Phil found he couldn’t keep the gasp in any longer. Air rushed from his lungs in a quiet whoosh as they looked into each other’s eyes for the first time.

This time, the gasp wasn’t because of the prince’s beauty, however. Instead, it was because of what he saw in his eyes. The big brown doe eyes were wide in awe and softly glazed in wonder.

Is that how I’m looking at him? Completely enamoured? Phil thought. He wanted to examine the rest of his prince’s face again but couldn’t bring himself to look away from his eyes. He looks so young, he noticed. I knew he was only twenty, but I wasn’t expecting this.

“Hello,” Prince Daniel whispered.

Phil blinked in surprise. He was fairly certain they weren’t supposed to speak to each other before the vows. He’s literally the Crown Prince. I’m sure it’s fine, he told himself.

“Hi,” he tentatively whispered back.

The prince’s lips widened into a bigger smile and he giggled softly. Phil could only stare in appreciation.

That looks more like a real smile.

The officiant stepped forward, breaking them from their spell somewhat. Phil still couldn’t look away from the prince, but he was at least aware of the world around him again.

Only a few seconds had passed as he took in his betrothed’s appearance of the first time, but it had felt like an eternity.

An eternity we’ll actually have, his brain supplied. The thought sent a shiver down his spine, which he hid well enough that only the prince, who was still holding his hand, noticed. His expression turned more concerned, although still hidden in the mask of a smile.

Unsure how to communicate his feelings, Phil simply sent him a soft smile.

“Please lift the prince’s veil, Your Highness,” the officiant asked Prince Daniel.

Prince Daniel nodded, then released Phil’s hand to carefully lift the veil over and behind Phil’s head.

Phil couldn’t be sure, but he thought he heard a soft “wow” come from the prince’s lips as he pulled back.

Once Prince Daniel had leaned back, he took each of Phil’s hands in his own, then looked to his right at the officiant.

The officiant gave a long speech about the importance of marriage and this particular union, but Phil didn’t really pay attention. He had been told the contents of the speech already so he would be able to talk about it at the reception, so he let his mind wander.

Of course, it wandered to the man holding his clammy hands.

I hope he doesn’t mind the sweat, Phil worried. Given how sweaty his hands are, I don’t think he does. I think he wouldn’t mind anyway, though. He seems genuinely nice, just like Martyn said. Maybe this won’t be terrible after all. At the very least, I think he likes me already.

He snapped out of his thoughts when the officiant turned to Prince Daniel.

“Prince Daniel,” he began. “Will you take Prince Philip to be your husband, will you love, honour, and protect him, and keep him in sickness and in health and forsaking all others keep only unto him so long as you both shall live?”

Prince Daniel took what Phil assumed was a steadying breath. “I will. I, Prince Daniel, take you, Prince Philip, to be my husband, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, while we both shall live.” His voice projected the vows beautifully and clearly. If Phil hadn’t been so nervous about saying his own, he would have taken the time to appreciate how well his almost-husband could speak to an audience.

The officiant turned to him. “Prince Philip. Will you take Prince Daniel to be your husband, will you love, honour, and protect him, and keep him in sickness and in health and forsaking all others keep only unto him so long as you both shall live?”

Phil’s hands shook, and he cringed when he realized Prince Daniel would definitely notice. He swallowed, then took a deep breath. Just as he was about to speak, he felt his prince’s hand lightly squeeze his own, as if to say It’s alright. Phil shot him a small, shaky smile, then stared at his chest while he recited his assigned vow: “I will. I, Prince Philip, take you, Prince Daniel, to be my husband, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, while we both shall live.” His vows came out much weaker than Prince Daniel’s. His voice shook and he hadn’t projected enough for the crowd to hear. He felt another squeeze on his hand and glanced up at his prince, who smiled gently at him. Phil was really starting to like this man.

“Bring forth the rings,” commanded the officiant.

Prince Adrian, Daniel’s younger brother, stepped forward with the rings resting on a plush velvet pillow.

Prince Daniel picked up the ring closer to him and took Phil’s left hand.

“Prince Daniel, as you place the ring on his finger, please repeat after me,” the officiant instructed. “With this ring, I thee wed, and from this day forward, I consecrate and commit my love and my life to you alone.”

Phil didn’t understand why all the vows and speeches had to be about love. In a normal marriage, it made sense, but this was not a normal marriage. There was no love between them now, or maybe ever.

Despite his disapproval, he smiled as Prince Daniel repeated the words and gave him the ring. The Iridacian prince smiled as Phil did the same for him.

“I now pronounce you partners for life,” the officiant announced happily. He inclined his head to Prince Daniel. “You may kiss your husband.”

Phil felt nerves erupt like a volcano in his gut again. He’d known this was coming, but he still felt unprepared. He’d never kissed anyone before. Why would he? He had never courted anyone because he knew he would never be lucky enough to marry someone for love. What if he was bad at it? What if Prince Daniel laughed at his inexperience? What if-

Prince Daniel’s face leaned in, tilted slightly so their noses wouldn’t bump. Just before their lips connected, he heard a quiet, “I’m sorry”. Something soft touched his lips for a moment, and then it was gone.

It surprised Phil to realize that it hadn’t really felt like anything. It was a slight pressure on his lips, there and gone, with no emotion. It had been an empty kiss. He couldn’t help but compare it to their marriage; maybe if they knew each other, the marriage, and the kiss, would mean something. As it was now, both were hollow.

Phil turned to face the crowd at his husband’s (I have a husband) light tug on his hand. They were all cheering and clapping. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Martyn shake hands with King James of Iridacia. Then, Prince Daniel tugged him forward towards the fancy white carriage that would take them to a building just across the border to Iridacia for the reception. A royal guard sat with the driver at the front to give them some privacy.

Prince Daniel let go of Phil’s hand when they sat down, though he kept their hands close together. The two of them smiled and waved at the crowds on the path to the reception. Phil didn’t expect them to speak, but he felt extremely awkward about sitting in silence. Luckily, Prince Daniel seemed to feel the same.

“It’s good to finally meet you,” he said, still smiling for the crowd, but now looking at Phil.

Phil nodded. “You, too, Prince Daniel.”

The prince visibly cringed. “Oh, no, please, call me Dan. We are m-married, after all.”

Phil caught the slight stutter on the word “marriage” and felt a twinge of sympathy. He’s uncomfortable, too. I don’t think he wanted this any more than I do.

“Alright, then. You can call me Phil,” Phil replied. “‘Philip’ is for special occasions and my mother.”

Dan laughed. “I can understand that.” He turned his face away from Phil to wave at the crowd some more, and Phil followed suit.

After a few minutes of silence, Dan spoke up again.

“I hope it’s alright that we’re not holding hands right now,” he said quietly.

Phil turned to look at him again. Dan’s expression, although it maintained the perfect royal smile, seemed wary.

“I’m not all that comfortable around you yet,” Dan continued. His eyes widened as he realized what he said. “Not that you make me uncomfortable! I just don’t know you and I don’t-”

“It’s fine,” Phil reassured. “I’m actually glad for it, really. I know we’re married, but I don’t want to rush into things, if that’s alright with you?” he asked tentatively.

Relief immediately flooded Dan’s eyes, and Phil found himself relaxing at that. He had said the right thing.

“That sounds perfect. Thank you,” Dan said sincerely. He waited a beat, then said, “Of course, we’ll have to be holding hands all night at the reception, since that’s what they expect of us.”

Phil nodded. “Of course.”

The carriage pulled to a stop. The door opened and Dan stepped out, then held out a hand to help Phil. Once they were both on solid ground, they linked arms and walked into the building for the reception.

Dan and Phil didn’t talk to each other much during the reception. They greeted their most important guests individually in a receiving line, then cut the cake together and fed each other a bite, as tradition dictated, which left little time for getting to know each other. They got to eat dinner finally. Phil had to hold himself back from devouring everything put in front of him despite his hunger after hardly eating all day. A few speeches were given, none of which Phil paid any attention to. And then the dancing came.

First, Dan danced with his mother. Their dance was a smooth foxtrot to a slow jazz piece from the string quartet. Phil watched in admiration as Dan glided gracefully across the dancefloor, speaking softly with his mother. If Phil tried to do anything like that, he would surely fall on his face.

Unfortunately, Phil did have to try something like that. He had to dance with his mother. Luckily, they got away with a gentle swaying step, since they both knew how clumsy Phil could be.

“Oh, Phil,” his mother whispered emotionally. “You’re so grown up and handsome.”

Phil tried not to sigh. He knew his mother was excited, but he wished she wouldn’t look too much into it. It was an arranged marriage, not a dream wedding.

Instead of voicing any of that, however, he just smiled at her. “Thanks, Mum. I’m sorry we can’t have a proper dance.”

She chuckled. “We tried to teach you for years, didn’t we? I guess it turns out you were a bit of a lost cause on the dancefloor.”

Phil laughed at the memory of his early dance lessons, where he had spent most of his time apologizing for stepping on other people’s feet or falling to the ground.

“It’s possible that I may have coordination issues,” he conceded. Hopefully they won’t shine through when I dance with Dan in a minute.

Too soon, his dance with his mother ended, which meant his dance with Dan would begin. He led his mother off the dancefloor and turned to face his husband, who stood on the other side of the floor. The string quartet began to play a classical waltz.

Phil took a deep breath, then walked as calmly as possible to meet Dan in the middle of the floor. When he had made it without incident, he bowed to Dan.

The easy part is over, then, he thought as he straightened. Now I just have to dance without making a fool of either of us.

Dan picked up Phil’s right hand and bowed, pressing a kiss to his knuckles. When he was upright again, he put his arm around Phil and led them in a basic waltz.

Don’t step on him, don’t step on him, don’t ste-

Dan let out a muffled grunt as Phil’s elephant foot stepped just a touch too far forward and landed on his own.

Phil winced. “Sorry!” he apologized quickly, falling a beat behind in the dance and throwing Dan off-balance. He braced for impact, but it never came. Instead, he was pushed out in a twirl and ended up back in Dan’s arms, perfectly in step. Phil’s eyes widened. “You’re really good at this.”

Dan laughed softly. “I appreciate that, but I can’t take all the credit. I may have been told about your difficulties with dancing.”

Oh, great. I have an international reputation for clumsiness, Phil thought sarcastically, ducking his head in embarrassment.

“Hey,” Dan whispered fondly, which made Phil look up through his lashes. “It’s alright. I actually think it’s kind of endearing.”

Phil felt heat rise on his cheeks. How could anyone think clumsiness is endearing? He’s so nice. I must’ve gotten lucky.

“I’m sorry, anyway. I don’t want to hurt you,” he said meekly.

Shaking his head, Dan twirled Phil out and back in for a dip to end the song.

Phil felt surprisingly light in Dan’s arms, which sent a rush of butterflies fluttering in his stomach.

He didn’t have time to dwell on it, however, as Dan apologized quietly before leaning in to press a soft kiss to his lips. This kiss felt much the same as the last: empty and meaningless, although it did make the butterflies double the fluttering speeds and deepened the blush on Phil’s cheeks. For the first time all day, Phil was grateful for the makeup on his face so Dan wouldn’t see it.

Dan pulled away a few seconds later and helped Phil stand properly amidst the cheers of the audience.

“Why do they do that?” Phil mumbled. He didn’t want people cheering every time he was kissed. It made him feel uncomfortable and reinforced the feeling that he had no control over anything that happened to him; he existed and acted purely for the whims of the people.

“Because they’re at a wedding. It’s all a fun evening for them,” Dan remarked bitterly, surprising Phil. So far, he’d been all smiles, even if they’d been tinged with some discomfort. “They don’t understand that this means so much more than that, especially for our lives.”

Phil wanted to hear more about what Dan thought of the marriage. He wanted to talk about it and ask questions and find a sense of friendship with him through their shared fate. Unfortunately, it would have to wait, as Dan was already moving on as if nothing had happened. His arm dropped from Phil’s waist and instead linked around his elbow.

“We have to mingle now. Is that alright? You don’t have to say anything to anyone if you don’t want to. I was just told we’d have to do it together, but if you don’t feel up to it-”

“No, it’s fine,” Phil interrupted. “I’ll let you know if I need a break, but I’d appreciate if you did the talking.”

Dan nodded, shooting him a small smile, then led him to a few people chatting on the side of the dancefloor.

Phil paid attention to the conversation, but was never expected to say anything. He was surprised at how articulate and charming Dan was with these stuffy aristocrats. Phil had never been particularly good at talking to people in general, but especially in cases like this.

After a few minutes of small talk, Dan gently pulled Phil away to bring him to the next group.

On the way, he asked, “How are you doing? Good to keep going?”

“Oh, I’m fine,” Phil replied, surprised to even be asked. “I’ll probably stop paying attention, though, if that doesn’t cause too much trouble.”

“Of course not,” Dan assured him. “I’ll handle it.”

For the next half hour, Dan and Phil moved from group to group, accepting congratulations and well wishes. Between each group Dan would check in with Phil, making sure he didn’t need a break. It wasn’t until an especially long conversation ended that Phil finally tapped out.

“Could we take a minute to sit, maybe?” he tentatively asked when Dan checked in. “I need some water.”

“Definitely.” Dan swiftly located some chairs at a table for the two of them and told Phil to sit down. “I’ll find us some water. Do you need anything else? Food of any kind?”

“Oh, um. Sure?” Phil squeaked out. “I’d take any of the desserts, really.” Dan nodded once and left. He was being so understanding and courteous that Phil didn’t quite know what to do with himself. Dan was the future king of his country, and yet he was acting like Phil’s servant. Phil found it rather nice; maybe it was a sign that Dan wasn’t as stuck-up as most of the other members of high society.

Moments later, Dan returned with a plate of chocolates and a servant carrying two glasses of water.

“John here saw me struggling to figure out how to carry liquids and food at the same time,” Dan explained sheepishly. “But I brought you chocolate.”

“Thank you,” Phil said with a smile as he took the plate from Dan. “And thank you, John.”

John placed the water glasses on the table and bowed before rushing off to continue his tasks elsewhere.

Phil picked up a square of chocolate and popped it into his mouth, closing his eyes and holding back a moan at the sweet taste.

“Chocolate is truly one of the best things in the world,” Phil commented as he opened his eyes.

Dan hummed in agreement, taking a sip from his water. He stole a piece of chocolate from Phil’s plate and ate it. “And this is some of the best chocolate in the world.”

Nodding, Phil ate another piece. They fell into a comfortable silence for a few minutes, enjoying their time away from everyone else, but were interrupted by a few wedding guests stopping by.

An older man and woman bowed to them.

“May we offer our ecstatic congratulations, Your Highness,” the man said as he rose from his bow.

Dan inclined his head politely. “Thank you, Duke Earnest. I would love to speak with you, but my husband is quite tired at the moment, and so we are taking a short pause from conversation. Perhaps another time.”

The Duke nodded curtly, looking as though he was trying to hide his displeasure. “Of course, Your Highness,” he said, then bowed and left with the woman.

Phil turned wide eyes to Dan. “Well, you shut that down quickly,” he commented, slightly amused, but slightly in shock. He hadn’t expected Dan to take their break that seriously, but he’d offended a duke just so they wouldn’t have to talk.

Dan shrugged. “You said you needed a break. Talking to them wouldn’t have been a break.”

“Oh,” Phil breathed. He did that specifically for me? He felt the blush return.

They fell silent for another few minutes. It was a little awkward, but Phil didn’t mind. He would rather a slightly awkward silence than talking at this point, given the craziness of the day. This way, he could eat the chocolate with Dan in peace, recharging for the next round of socializing.

When the chocolate was gone, Dan stood and offered his hand to Phil. Phil accepted it and rose to follow Dan back into the crowd of guests.

Last time they’d ventured into the throng of people, it had been arm-in-arm, but this time they were holding hands. To Phil, it felt more intimate, which gave him a warm, fuzzy feeling. He wasn’t sure why; it was just their hands. But he supposed there was a kind of comfort in it.

This round of mingling went much the same as the first, with Phil tuning out the conversations and Dan doing all the talking, but it didn’t last as long. About twenty minutes after they started again, a woman came up to Dan and whispered something in his ear. He nodded and turned to Phil.

“It’s time for us to go,” he informed Phil.

Time to go live in a foreign kingdom away from all my friends and family, Phil thought. Well. I guess I’ll technically have some family here, now, too.

“Can we find my family first so I can say goodbye?” he asked cautiously. He wasn’t sure how fast Dan wanted to leave and was a little nervous he wouldn’t be allowed to see his family one last time.

Dan looked surprised and a little hurt at Phil’s tone. “Yes, absolutely!” he was quick to say. “Take your time, of course.”

Phil felt a comforting wave of relief wash over him. The anxiety about leaving home was still there, but at least he would get one last chance to see his family before he left.

They soon found Martyn and his parents and were able to pull them away to a private room.

“I’ll wait out here,” Dan said when they got to the door of an office. He squeezed Phil’s hand once before letting go.

“Thanks,” Phil said. He followed his family into the room and was immediately met with a fierce hug from his mum. His eyes watered as he realized that this was it. He would be home to visit, of course, but he wasn’t sure when that would happen.

“I’ll miss you,” his mum whispered.

Phil wrapped his arms tighter around his mother and rested his chin on her head. “I’ll miss you, too,” he whispered back.

“Let the boy breathe, Kath,” his dad said with a sad chuckle.

“He can breathe when he leaves,” she quipped, though she released her hold on Phil.

His dad hugged him next with a firm clap on the back. “We’ll see you soon, alright?”

Will you? Phil thought, but refrained from saying. It would’ve made everything more difficult for all four of them.

Martyn was the last to hug him. He approached with a sorry smile and Phil felt his heart wrench.

“I’m so sorry, Phil,” Martyn whispered, just low enough that his parents couldn’t quite hear.

Phil shook his head. “Don’t be. I’ve been expecting this all my life, remember? It was the smart thing to do and I’ll be fine.” Phil wasn’t sure how much he was trying to convince Martyn versus himself. He tried not to dwell on it. “Besides, Dan has been great so far. I think we’ll get on well enough.” He leaned back a bit from the hug. “Now, don’t go blaming yourself or being upset, or I’ll have to come back and kick your butt, you hear?”

Martyn’s smile looked a little more convincing at that. “I’d like to see you try, little brother.”

A few “I love you”s and a group hug later, Phil walked out the door and away from his family.

“Ready?” Dan asked when Phil reached him.

Phil nodded and took Dan’s hand in his once more. “Let’s go.”

~~~~~~~~~~

The sun was setting as they got in their carriage. Unlike the others, this carriage was black and had a roof. A few servants had just stocked a few drinks and snacks for them, as well as a cloth for Phil to wipe off his ceremonial makeup.

“Oh, thank god,” he breathed as he wiped his face clean. “It was really beginning to itch.”

Dan, who sat on the opposite bench, stared at Phil with wide eyes and a soft pink colour rising on his cheeks.

“What? Is there something still on my face?” Phil scrubbed the cloth across his cheeks again, just in case.

The flush on Dan’s cheeks deepened and he quickly looked away with an awkward cough. “No, um. I- you-” he coughed again. “You look pretty without the makeup.”

Phil inhaled sharply, a blush colouring his own cheeks.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to make you uncomforta-”

“No!” Phil practically shouted, startling Dan into looking at him again. “You don’t have to apologize. I’m not uncomfortable.” He let his hand drop to his lap as he considered if he should say more. He looked down at his hands and quietly said, “I think you look pretty, too.”

When he was met with no response, he looked up and saw Dan looking out the small window and biting his lip to hold in a smile. How is he so unintentionally cute?

They didn’t talk much for a while after that, instead choosing to silently watch the fields pass the farther they got into Iridacia. Phil had never been here before, so he drank in as much of the scenery as possible with the fading light.

Phil had been to other kingdoms outside Stratalary before, such as Amalia, one of Stratalary’s neighbours. There, they had extremely varied terrain, making it perfect for the wide variety of animal life. He had always loved it there; he’d always ask an Amalian to tell the animals he said hello. If he’d had the chance to pick a kingdom to marry into, it would’ve been that one. He could’ve had so many dogs. He’d visited the icy Fractalis, too. They were Stratalary’s other neighbours, staying up in the frigid mountains. Despite the cold, Phil wouldn’t have minded living there, either. The land was always gorgeous.

But now he was in Iridacia, his new home. He hadn’t particularly known what to expect besides plants, but he liked what he saw. It was relaxing, even if it didn’t feel like home yet. He did miss the dense forests that made up much of his kingdom, but he knew he’d get used to their absence.

Iridacia was very flat compared to Stratalary. There were occasional hills, but most of the terrain consisted of plains. The fields were filled with grains and flowers of every kind, most of which were unfamiliar to Phil. He made a mental note to ask Dan to teach him about flowers sometime.

Even with the fading light, Phil could tell that Iridacia was beautiful. There were so many flowers that all seemed to be different colours, and Phil wanted to smell every one of them. The fields seemed to stretch on for miles in every direction, which Phil supposed could get tedious after a while, but he still found himself enjoying. It was all so new and exciting.

About an hour into their journey, Dan spoke up.

“Have you ever been outside of Stratalary?” he asked.

Phil startled at being pulled out of his thoughts but quickly recovered enough to nod. “Yes, I’ve travelled quite a bit with my brother on diplomatic missions. What about you?”

“Yeah, the same for me. I’ve spent quite a bit of time in Amalia, actually.”

Phil watched Dan tapping his fingers on his knees for a moment, fascinated at their rapid movement. “I always liked it there. Wanted to live there for some time, too, but their young prince was-”

Dan groaned. “The Amalian prince, oh my god. He’s such a little brat, isn’t he?”

Phil laughed. “Well, I was about to say ‘a difficult child’, but that’s much more accurate.”

“I promise I’m not usually one to complain about people,” Dan replied sheepishly. “I’d hate for that to be your impression of me. But, my god, I’ve never met anyone so entitled.”

“That’s very true,” Phil agreed. “One time, I was walking through the palace, minding my own business, and he yelled at me. I don’t even know what I did wrong! He just threw a fit about how it was ‘his hallway’ and the way I walked was inappropriate or something.”

Dan nodded. “Sounds like him. He once asked me to go on a picnic with him but I couldn’t because of some diplomatic talks and he just about cried in a fit of rage. All the nearby animals ran for the hills as he literally dropped to the floor screaming in anger.”

“Oh my god,” Phil commented. “Did you go on the picnic anyway?”

Dan snorted. “No way, I was not about to deal with that. I took the animals’ lead and booked it out of there and into my next meeting. Everyone wondered why I was huffing and puffing, face red as a beet and dripping with sweat, but what could I say? ‘Your monstrous child of a prince made me run away in sheer terror’?”

Phil gasped out a laugh. “That’s insane. I think I’ve ended up way better here, to be honest. There are fewer dogs, but the scenery is pretty enough and I’m fairly certain I can handle you better than I could’ve handled him.”

Dan paused. “Do you really? Think you ended up better here, I mean.” His tone was much softer than it had been a moment ago. He sounded unsure of himself.

Phil studied Dan for a minute, taking in how he fidgeted with his hands and wouldn’t meet his gaze. “I do,” he finally said. “I like all the flowers we’ve seen, so I know I’ll be happy with that, at least. And you’re definitely more manageable than he would’ve been. We don’t know each other all that well yet, but you seem nice so far. I’m excited to get to know you more, actually. I think we’ll be good friends.”

It hurt a little to say “friends”. They were married; the goal shouldn’t be to be friends. They should be in love. Phil brushed away the thought as Dan replied.

Dan was smiling softly and looking at him again. “I’m glad. For what it’s worth, I think we’ll be friends, too.” He glanced away for a second, then back to Phil. “I want you to know that I just want you to be happy. This isn’t the most…” he paused as if trying to think of how to phrase what he wanted to say, “...ideal situation for either of us, I know, but I do want it to be as comfortable as possible.”

Relief flooded Phil. “Thank you, truly. I wasn’t all that sure what I was getting into with this, but that’s good to hear,” he remarked appreciatively.

The rest of the carriage ride was nice. They chatted for most of it, getting to know each other better. Phil was confident that they would have a rewarding friendship throughout the coming years.

When they arrived at Perennis, the capital, it was late. Phil looked out the window to see the city for the first time, admiring all the streetlights and buildings. The architecture consisted of interesting shapes rather than the standard rectangular structures he was used to. These had a childlike whimsy to them with their curved corners and elliptical windows. When he got the chance, he would surely find a way to explore the city.

He couldn’t see much of the palace as the carriage pulled to a stop, but he figured he had plenty of time to take a look later. After the long day he’d had, he just wanted to go to bed.

A servant led the newlyweds down several hallways and to a room with two grand doors.

“Thank you, Jeffrey,” Dan told the servant. “You’re dismissed.”

The servant bowed and left as Dan opened one of the doors and entered the room, Phil following close behind.

It wasn’t until the moment Phil crossed the threshold that he remembered what Martyn had said about the wedding night.

It’s expected that you two will consummate the marriage.

A blush lit up Phil’s cheeks and he stumbled on nothing, falling forward onto Dan. Dan let out a surprised yelp and lost his balance, sending both of them crashing to the floor. Phil landed on Dan’s back, his face smooshed between his shoulder blades.

Oh no.

“I am so sorry,” Phil said immediately, rolling off of Dan’s back and sitting with his head in his hands. “I tripped, I think, even though there’s nothing even there, I’m sorry-”

Dan cut him off with a giggle as he pulled himself into a sitting position. Phil tried not to think about how cute that giggle was.

“It’s fine! I’ll probably have a bruise, but it’s nothing I can’t handle.” Dan’s eyes sparkled in amusement. “Come on, let’s stand back up.”

They clambered to their feet, Phil still feeling incredibly embarrassed.

“Really, Phil, it’s alright,” Dan reiterated with another giggle when he saw Phil trying to hide his face. After a few more reassurances, he managed to get Phil to quit hiding, which allowed him to finally take in the room as they both removed their capes.

It was large, fitting two desks, several wardrobes, two vanities, a loveseat in front of a fireplace, and a huge four-poster bed, complete with curtains.

This is nice. It looks comfortable, if a little generic. I hope Dan will let me decorate to make it feel homier.

Dan shuffled awkwardly next to him and Phil realized they’d both been silent for a minute. He glanced over and saw Dan looking self-conscious for the first time, an arm wrapped around himself and clutching at the opposite elbow. His head was tilted down and a deep blush graced his cheeks. Phil was just about to ask what was wrong when Dan spoke up.

“I don’t want to have sex with you,” he blurted. He briefly looked at Phil through his lashes, then back down at the floor. His hand pulled at the fabric of his suit jacket.

Phil blinked in surprise, but Dan continued before he could say anything.

“I know it’s tradition to, um, consummate the marriage, and everything,” Dan continued in a hasty explanation. “I just- I don’t know you, and I’d really- really rather not?”

A relieved smile made its way onto Phil’s face. “Thank god,” he breathed. “I was worried you’d want to.”

Dan peeked up at Phil again, looking unsure. “Really? You’re not mad?”

Phil shook his head. “Not at all.” He hesitated, wondering how much he could share without making the conversation more awkward than it already felt. He rubbed the back of his neck nervously. “If I’m being honest, I dreaded tonight. Before you, I’ve never even kissed anyone. The thought of my first time being with someone I’d never met was terrifying.” Was that too much? He doesn’t want to know that, does he? God, why did I-

“Me too,” Dan whispered, pulling Phil from his thoughts. “I felt the same way.”

For the second time, Phil was struck by how young Dan was. In that moment, all Phil saw was a scared kid. Even if he was only two years older than Dan, he felt the age gap like a physical barrier.

“Do you wanna sit and talk about it, maybe?” Phil asked tentatively. He looked around the room again to see where they could sit, immediately passing over the bed; that would feel too intimate. Instead, he focused on the small sofa in front of the fireplace and pointed towards it.

Dan bit his lip, considering for a moment, then nodded. They walked over and sat down as far apart as possible, Dan immediately bringing his legs up onto the seat with him.

They didn’t speak for a long moment. Phil was worried Dan had changed his mind, but then he spoke.

“I know almost nothing about you,” he began quietly, “and that scares me. It scared me more before today, since I didn’t even know what you look like, but I’m still afraid you’ll ask me for something I can’t give you. Like with the sex,” he said awkwardly, suddenly bashful about even the word. “I know you just said you don’t want that now, but what if you do someday and I don’t?” He fell silent and avoided Phil’s gaze.

Phil nodded as he thought through his response before voicing it. “I feel the same way,” he said, matching Dan’s quiet tone. “I was worried you’d try to force me to have sex with you because of something my brother said. I just want you to know that I’m not sure I’ll ever want that, either, and even if I do I won’t expect anything from you. More than anything, I want us both to be happy.”

Dan gazed up at Phil through his lashes. “Thank you, Phil.”

Phil felt a rush of affection at how Dan said his name. The quiet seriousness and genuine gratefulness made him feel like he’d done something right.

“I haven’t- I haven’t told anyone else this, yet,” Dan said tentatively. His fingers pulled at the fabric of his trousers, which he watched intently. “Or, well, I haven’t talked about it with anyone. I don’t know why I’m telling you, even, we don’t know each other,” he said more hurriedly, now tugging harshly at his trousers.

“It’s alright.” Phil wanted to be supportive. Whatever it was, it seemed like Dan was extremely bothered by it. “I’m here for you.”

Dan shot him an appreciative glance before watching his trousers again. He took a deep breath, then said, “The idea of sex makes me uncomfortable. I mean, for one, I genuinely can’t imagine myself being with anyone so intimately, but also anytime I think of myself actually, um-” his face scrunched up as he thought of a way to phrase it, finally settling on- “you know, I feel repulsed, if that makes sense? And I can’t imagine looking at someone and wanting that.” He paused, stealing another glance at Phil as if to test his reaction, then hurried to say, “It sounds idiotic when I say it out lou-”

“It’s not idiotic,” Phil whispered. “You don’t have to want sex, Dan. It’s perfectly alright if you don’t think people are attractive-”

Dan shook his head, interrupting to say, “No, I do think people are attractive. Or, well, I think I do. I don’t know what that means, I suppose, but I know when I find someone beautiful. My heart races and I don’t know what to do with myself.” His cheeks flushed again as he shyly looked at Phil. “I feel that around you.”

“Oh,” Phil breathed. He felt himself blush as his heart thudded loudly in his chest. He thinks I’m beautiful. “I feel that around you, too.”

They fell silent, simply staring at each other with small, shy smiles, until Phil let out a yawn, which made Dan yawn. Phil giggled at the contagiousness of the action. Dan’s smile grew in return, making his dimples pop. Phil was in awe of the indentations, and he wanted to run his thumb across them.

“We should sleep,” Dan suggested in a whisper, careful not to break the quiet bubble around them. “It’s been a long day for both of us, I’m sure.”

“There’s only one bed,” Phil reminded him. “I can sleep here.”

Dan scoffed. “You are definitely too tall for that. The bed is big enough that we can sleep together.” Dan’s eyes widened at the innuendo. “I mean- er- sleep in the bed next to each other, not-”

Phil let out a proper laugh at that. “It’s alright! I know what you meant. If you’re comfortable sharing, we can do that.”

Dan nodded and stood, reaching out a hand to help Phil stand. He led Phil over to the wardrobes, and they changed out of their wedding clothes with their backs turned for privacy. Finally, they climbed into the bed, keeping some space between them.

“Thank you for listening,” Dan murmured. He already sounded half asleep. “You didn’t have to.”

“Of course,” Phil replied, equally quietly. “I’ll listen to you anytime.”

“I’m glad it’s you I had to marry.”

“Me, too.”

~~~~~~~~~~

Chapter 3