#yes i'm reminded of this because cinderella 1997 was one of these for me

[statisticalcats2]

If there's anything more special than VHSes you had as a kid, it's VHSes you didn't have and had to keep renting from the video rental store

[gayashelljatp]

Prince Charming x James Hook | Trophy Boy Chapter 6

Tags :Sorta Enemies to Lovers Fake/Pretend Relationship Not Canon Compliant, Inspired by Cinderella (1997), I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, Prince Charming is a Bi-King, Prince Charming Is Filipino, Because the actor is and I also am one so yeah, Prince Charming gets a lot of bitches but no love, Merlin Academy (Disney), James Hook is gay, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, I don't know how to tag in this fandom, No Beta Like Not Going To Castlecoming

Content Rating: Teen and Up.

Summary:

Charming had himself caught up in a pretty little lie, telling his parents he had a date for his birthday ball. Desperate to stop their meddling in his love life, he came up with a plan: show up with someone who’d make the court gasp—a notorious pirate at school, James Hook. It was supposed to be a quick fix: fake a romance, cause a stir, and be free from the royal matchmakers forever. But the more time Charming spent with Hook—as a person, the sharp banter—the more complicated things got. This wasn’t just about pretending anymore. He was starting to get hooked. Or The enemies to fake dating to lovers between Hook and Charming no one asked for.

Notes:

Can y'all applaud me. Yes I updated on Tumblr on time what a mircale!!! I do appreciate all of y'all who read on this platform. This is honestly a passion project I do to escape reality for a minute or two.

Had to update y'all at least one more time before the holidays. This chapter was very out of my comfort zone writing I don't do much drama I'm more a romance fluff writer. So here is some drama that I've been setting up since the very beginning. This is the family breakfast (brunch) and the day of the actual ball. Don't worry cute stuff happens before I hurt y'all.

A few housekeeping reminders: - This fic has multiple POVs for Charming focused parts 👑 emojis are used on the other hook if it's James it's this emoji 🪝. - It wouldn't be a GayashellJATP fic without a playlist of songs I have on that help immerse you,

Chapter 6: Pre-Ball Discord

 👑 

Charming felt the breeze rush past him as he watched Hook effortlessly skate down the castle’s steps. For once, Hook was trying out the skater-boy style. 

A tight black shirt that clung to his chest in ways that should’ve been illegal, paired with some very shredded, loose jeans that only emphasized his already toned legs. He looked almost too good to be true.

The skateboard seemed to float like water beneath him, the wheels barely made sound on the pristine marble.

Hook glanced back over his shoulder. The sunlight caught his hook and the chain around his neck. His dark windswept hair was tousled just enough to look careless but perfect. He flipped it with a casual toss of his head like it was a weapon and he knew how to use it, “Keep up, Princey.”

The way he said it was enough to light a fire in Charming’s chest. It made him want to scream. Or tackle him. Maybe both.

“I could skate circles around you, I was just going easy on you,” Charming shouted, picking up his pace.

“Oh, easy ?”

Charming groaned, half from frustration at how insufferably smug Hook looked, and half because, damn it, he was ridiculously hot. Suddenly, the skateboards were gone, leaving them standing toe-to-toe in the castle courtyard. Hook was now all up in his face, his smirk replaced by something darker yet soft.

He reached out, grabbing Charming by the front of his shirt. His fingers curled just enough to pull the prince closer, the warmth of his hand radiating through the fabric. And the coldness of his Hook sent shivers down his neck.

The pirate leaned in, his breath brushing against Charming’s ear as he whispered something that made his ears burn, words he couldn’t quite make out but that left his stomach flipping in ways it definitely shouldn’t have. But before he could respond—

“Sir, you should wake up.”

The sharp voice of Lionel cut through and reality had set back in. Charming’s eyes flew open, waking up rudely dragged him away from the borderline wet dream he was enjoying.

He blinked, disoriented, only to realize he was still half-asleep and clinging to Hook like a lifeboat. His arm was wrapped snugly around the pirate’s waist, his hand resting on the flat plane of Hook’s stomach.

For one fleeting, awful moment, he considered leaving his arm there. Just a little longer. But no—no, that would be wrong. Was Hook uncomfortable with this? Did he do this all night? Fuck Is this weird? Of course, it’s weird. Did I just fucking curse in my head? He quickly shifted his arms away, careful not to wake the brunette.

“Morning Lioenel,” Charming croaked in his deep morning voice.

“Happy birthday, Christopher. I see you’ve gotten quite comfortable with your… friend there.”

“It was because of the magic string.”

“Ah, yes, the cupcake magic. Then why are you wearing that very specific shirt you made during Spell and Stitch class,” Lionel noted, his tone practically dripping with insinuation. “A curious choice for sleepwear.”

He looked down at the old, glorified rag of a shirt. He knew damn well it would be too tight and the fabric too flimsy for his build now, and he’d secretly hoped Hook might… notice. Damn, Lionel for being right.

“Don’t read into it,” Charming muttered, pushing past Lionel and towards his morning routine.

“Perish the thought, sir,” Lionel said, deadpan. “Though I must say, it does seem very convenient.”

Charming scowled as he put his running shoes on. “My only concern right now is trying not to lose my mind, at family breakfast.”

After his princely routine a grueling jog, some obligatory bench presses, and Lionel droning on about greeting cards from neighboring kingdoms.

The Prince found himself distracted. Every now and then, his thoughts wandered back to the pirate still sprawled out in his bed. He doubted Hook even knew how peaceful he looked when he wasn’t sneering or smirking or being Hook .

“Should I wake him up, sir?” Lionel asked, breaking into Charming’s reverie.

Charming hesitated, glancing back toward the bed. Hook was still there, one hand loosely gripping the sheets, his hair a complete mess. He looks cuddly, which was a word he never thought he’d associate with him.

“Nah,” Charming said finally, his voice quieter than before. “Let him sleep in for a little more. He looks like he needs it.”

“Ah,” Lionel said, the picture of mock solemnity. “You probably tired him out. Cuddling him all night. How was being the big spoon?” 

Charming nearly choked. “Nope, I’m not doing this.” He said as he grabbed his towel and escaped to the bathroom.

“I’ll see you at the palace, Sir,” Lionel said before heading out. “One last thing, don’t be late,”

Charming just glanced at the bathroom mirror, his chest tightening for reasons he didn’t want to name. “Happy birthday to me,” he muttered under his breath, dragging a hand through his hair.

Charming then started his shower musical. He’d been belting out tunes with abandon, knowing full well this was his last chance at solitude before his obligations descended like a royal army. 

By the time he emerged, a towel slung loosely around his hips, the steam swirling out behind him, he felt rejuvenated until he noticed the sun had risen and so had Hook, looking unusually alert.

Hook’s piercing eyes were fixed on him, though they lacked the typical dark smudges of eyeliner that usually made his glare extra sharp. Instead, he looked softer, more human, which was almost unsettling.

“Guess who finally woke up?” The dark haired teen asked, leaning casually against the doorframe, pretending his heart wasn’t pounding.

“Only because of your bloody singing,” Hook replied, his voice dry but laced with amusement. “You’ve got pipes, though. Bet you had singing lessons growing up.”

Charming ran a hand through his damp hair. “I did. Mandatory, not by choice.”

“Figures,” Hook said, inspecting his nails as if he wasn’t already planning his next jab. “Though you were a bit pitchy in the chorus. Add that to your ever-growing list of mistakes, right up there with your bear-hugging—”

Charming groaned, pushing off the doorframe. “I didn’t mean to do that. I swear—”

“Doesn’t matter,” Hook cut in with a gleam in his eye. “I mean, I get it. I am properly fit, but you don’t need to make excuses to get your hands all over me.”

“Oh, for the love of—” 

“Speaking of fit,” Hook cut him off, his gaze dropping just enough to make the prince self-conscious, “You’re quite the show off this morning. Did you workout?”

It took a second too long to realize what Hook was talking about. When it hit, his face turned beet red as he registered his current state of undress—nothing but a towel clinging dangerously low on his hips. He crossed his arms over his chest instinctively, trying to appear unaffected, but the heat crawling up his neck betrayed him.

Hook, predictably, looked delighted. “Don’t cover up on my account,” he teased, his grin wicked. “This is quality entertainment.”

“Can you not?”

“Come on, Princey. Don’t act like you’re shy. You’re the one who can’t keep your eyes off me half of the time.”

“Is that what you tell yourself to sleep at night?” 

“Nah,” Hook said with a wink. “I don’t need to. Knowing you’re think of me is enough.”

“We’re still meeting your folks, right?” Hook finally asked.

Charming nodded, grateful for the change in topic.

Hook finally got up, stretching leisurely as if the world itself moved at his pace. “Yeah, yeah. I’ll get ready at my place.” He glanced down at his empty wrist before fastening his hook on with practiced ease. “Pick me up.”

Then Hook bolted straight for the door.

“Wait,” Charming blurted, reaching for Hook’s hand before he realized he didn’t actually have anything to say.

“Make it quick, Princey. We don’t have all day,” Charming’s mouth opened, but his mind had gone blank. Hook’s gaze was too much. Too sharp yet somehow too warm, like he could see straight through him. It was the kind of look that they write songs about.

“Maybe…” Charming finally managed, his voice quieter now, “Maybe try buttoning up all your buttons this time. I’m not trying to change your style, but, you know…”

Hook tilted his head, smirking as he let the words hang. “Oh, you don’t like it when I do all of  that? Should I take more clothes off then maybe that’d make you happier?”

“Just…Try for me. For my sake and my parents”

Hook leaned in slightly, just enough to close the space between them. “Only if you promise to keep the towel.”

“James!”

As the door closed behind him, Charming knew this was only the beginning. He made a mental note to keep a spare shirt nearby next time—just in case.

👑 

The hallways were a blur of "Happy Birthday!" and enthusiastic waves, but Charming hardly acknowledged them as he skated past, focused on his destination. 

He was already bracing himself for whatever mood Hook might be in, but when he arrived at the pirate’s door, he was caught off guard.

For once, Hook was punctual. Not only that, but he looked… different. 

Gone were the flowy pirate blouses and loose button-ups that Charming had grown accustomed to. Instead, Hook wore a tailored white shirt that clung to his frame in all the right ways, tucked neatly into navy denim jeans that looked suspiciously new.

Charming hadn’t even realized Hook owned jeans; he'd always assumed the pirate was permanently ingrained in his dramatic, swashbuckling wardrobe. But no, Hook had denim. And it looked nice.

To top it off, Hook was wearing Charming’s varsity jacket.

The royal crest never looked so good. On Hook, It looked both completely out of place and yet ridiculously good at the same time.

When Hook spotted Charming skating toward him, those dark, kohl-rimmed eyes glinted with mischief. The look said more than words ever could: Caught you staring, Princey.

“You clean up pretty nice,” Charming managed, his voice a little tighter than he intended.

“And you wear the same outfit,” Hook shot back, his tone teasing. “I think I’ve seen a paper with you wearing that exact getup from head to toe.”

Charming winced slightly, glancing down at his brown barong shirt and black cargo pants. On second thought, maybe he should’ve worn something different for today. Something that didn’t feel so… predictable.

“You read the papers? The Asian prince asked, almost gasping. He straightened up and raised an eyebrow. “More importantly, what have you read about me?”

Hook didn’t bother replying, just gave him a look that practically screamed, Do you really want me to answer that?

Before Charming could press further, Hook shifted, plucking at the varsity jacket as though suddenly remembering he had it on. “Oh, and I thought I’d return this,” Hook said nonchalantly, starting to shrug out of the jacket. “I even got Morgs to do a quick laundry spell on it, so no need to complain—”

“No,” Charming interrupted quickly, stepping forward and stopping him mid-motion. “Keep it on.”

Hook paused, blinking in surprise. His eyebrows raised slightly, and for a brief moment, he almost looked unsure of himself. “If you say so,” He said lightly, settling the jacket back over his shoulders.

“It looks nice on you,” The Prince added, quieter this time, his gaze lingering a second too long before snapping back to the hallway.

“Let’s go,” Charming said, clearing his throat and rolling his board onto the ground. 

Normally, he’d let the pirate trail behind him something about making sure Hook understood who was leading but this time, he slowed his pace.

As Charming skated leisurely down the path, Hook walked alongside him, the rhythm of his steps keeping time with the quiet hum of the wheels. Neither of them said much, but the silence felt strangely comfortable.

🪝

The castle was a smug fucking thing, wasn’t it? All glinting spires and pristine stonework, like it had never seen a speck of dirt in its entire existence.

It made Hook itch. He swore he could feel the walls silently judging him as they arrived at the feet of the stairs.

This was not his world, and every fiber of his being was telling him to turn around before it was too late.

But then there was Charming, skating along like he had no cares in the world, the ridiculous good boy turned bad image fully intact. Well, it's time to tarnish that image a little.

“You ready?” Charming asked, hopping off his board with a practiced ease that Hook found entirely too irritating.

Hook tilted his head, trying for nonchalance. “And what about it? You nervous ‘bout lying to your parents?” His words dripped with his usual sarcasm, though his accent made “bout” sound more like a soft jab than a sneer.

“Is it bad if I say I’m actually nervous?”

“And here I thought you’d be an expert at it. I heard you were in a rebel without a cause stage, so I assumed you had lying in the bag.” 

“Just teenage rebellion tendencies,”

“Well, you’ve got nothing to be nervous about,” Hook said before taking a pause. “Your butler already thinks we’re damn near engaged. Playing a fiddle is as easy as your parents.”

“That doesn’t sound right,” Charming muttered, his voice breaking with a wave of nerves. Hook just responded with a shrug,

When they finally made it to the fucking top of the stairs. Hook looked at Charming with an unsure look, as a knot was starting to form in his chest. 

The grand entrance loomed ahead, its gilded doors polished. As the guards pushed the massive doors open, a wave of noise hit him.

Charming’s home, his very busy, very lavish home was alive. Maids whisked by with trays of what looked like champagne glasses (at this hour?), a butler directed a pair of footmen carrying an elaborate floral arrangement, and somewhere in the distance, the faint hum of a string quartet drifted through the air.

Charming greeted the staff with a practiced smile and steady politeness, his voice warm and cordial in that maddeningly princely way. Hook could almost see the mask sliding into place.

“So, this is where you grew up. Bit much, don’t you think?”

Charming glanced at him, distracted, but managed a half-hearted smile. “It’s home.”

“Home,” Hook repeated dryly, his gaze skimming over the chandeliers, the intricate crown moldings, and the floors that gleamed like they’d never known a speck of dust. “You’ve got a very different definition of the word.”

Charming, however, didn’t retort. Not even his usual speeches. Just plain silence. The life got sucked out of him, replaced with a stiffness Hook wasn’t used to seeing. It was… unsettling.

“What’s the matter? When did you learn to shut up?”

“Nothing is—” Charming stopped, shaking his head. “I’m fine.”

“You’re not,” Hook pressed. “If you were, you’d be a confident schmuck. But you’re not, and it’s throwing me off.”

Charming sighed, running a hand through his hair. “It’s just…my parents. They’ll have questions. They are a lot. And you’re…” He gestured vaguely at Hook, his cheeks flushing.

“I’m what?” Hook asked, narrowing his eyes. “Not a princess? A pirate? A little bit too dramatic?”

“I didn’t say anything.” Charming’s voice was tired. “It’s just… They’re not going to understand this. Us.”

“There is no us,” Hook reminded, his voice sharp but quieter than he intended. He glanced over his shoulder at the line of gawking staff before leaning in closer. “You wanted a fake date, and you got one. So pull yourself together, Your Highness, and stop bloody looking at me like you don’t want to be here.”

Charming didn’t respond, his jaw tightening as they approached another set of doors. 

Then a familiar figure stepped into their path: Lionel, the ever-watchful butler-slash-life coach-slash-unpaid babysitter of Prince Charming. His posture was immaculate, his expression a perfect blend of disapproval and exhaustion.

“Ah, Your Highness,” Lionel said smoothly, his gaze flicking between the two teens with just a hint of amusement. “How kind of you to finally grace us with your presence. Shall I tell the Queen you’ll join her for brunch after all?”

“Good to see you too, Lionel,” Hook drawled, his smirk too apparent.

“You might want to wipe that grin off your face, Mr. James Hook. Did you forget to prep him on manners?”

Charming shifted beside him, his shoulders visibly tensing. “Are you alright, Your Highness?”

“I’m fine,” The Prince replied quickly, too quickly.

“Look,” The pirate lowered his tone. “Let’s just get this over with. Sit, smile, nod. Do whatever it is you do at these things, and we’ll be out of here in no time.”

Lionel cleared his throat. “That might work for you, Mr. Hook, but His Highness doesn’t have the luxury of disappearing when things get uncomfortable. And he has a schedule to follow.”

“Cheers for the pep talk,” Hook muttered, rolling his eyes.

But Lionel wasn’t done. He turned to Charming. “Christopher, whatever’s bothering you, we’ll talk about it after breakfast. Just go in there and be you.”

Charming nodded, but the tension in his jaw didn’t ease. He glanced at Hook, his expression unreadable.

“Can you give us a minute Lionel?” Hook asked rather politely.

Lionel entered the dining hall not questioning anything. Hook on the other hand (hook) had a plan. He stepped close to Charming and pressed the golden metal on his hand against his cheek.

The prince froze, stared wide-eyed, and for a second, Hook wondered if he’d gone too far. But there was no turning back now.

“Get your act together, we can do this,” Hook whispered, his voice too soft for his liking. “You can squeeze my hand if you need me to come save you.”

Where the hell had that come from? The old him would have gagged at the idea of Charming touching him, let alone willingly offering himself up for emotional support.

But here he was, pitying the guy or at least that’s what he told himself. Definitely not because he was getting used to those big brown stupidly honest eyes or the way Charming looked at him like he wasn’t a total piece of ship.

Charming blinked, nodding stiffly as if he couldn’t believe what Hook had just said either. “Thanks,” he whispered, his voice nearly inaudible.

Hook stepped back, yanking his hand down before it betrayed him again. “Don’t mention it,” he muttered, turning back to the door. “Let’s just get this over with.” 

The dining hall was nothing short of obnoxiously, unnecessarily big. Who needed ceilings that high? Or light fixtures the size of boats? Hook barely stopped himself from gawking at the sheer excess of it all, his eyes narrowing at the four plates laid out: two for them and two for Charming’s parents. Thankfully, the royal couple wasn’t here yet. Thank the sea gods for small mercies.

Once the two were seated, Hook couldn’t help but notice the Prince next to him had all the life sucked out of him. Charming looked pale and was one lost breath away from falling apart. 

Hook blinked. Was he trembling? This wasn’t supposed to happen—if anyone should’ve been shitting themselves right now, it was Hook. 

“Hey, My Knight in Shining Armour, I thought my little pep talk worked” Hook muttered under his breath, stepping closer. 

Before he could say anything else, Charming grabbed his hand, fingers ice-cold and gripping far too tightly. Bloody hell. Hook glanced around, as though someone might burst in and see this very unprincely display of nerves. No one yet.

Hook sighed, squeezing Charming’s hand back, though his voice kept its edge. “You already squeezing my hand your parents aren't even here. Way to use this feature way too early.”

Charming shot him a glare that screamed not helping. Hook bit back a smirk.

There was one way to fix this. Time to put these genetics to good use. Hook took a purposeful scooched closer, so much so that Charming startled and blinked up at him. 

Hook tilted his head down and then looked up through his lashes, making sure his hair fell in just the right tousled way to frame his face. The piercing gaze he hit Charming with could’ve stopped time and space. 

He’d perfected this look in countless flirtationships, on countless nights in the mirror, but this was the first time it was actually for a prince.

Charming stilled. Completely. His hand went slack in Hook’s.

Hook smirked, satisfaction curling in his chest. “There there. Calm as a dead fish.”

Charming didn’t say anything for a moment, just stared back at Hook like he’d forgotten how to breathe. “I hate you,” he mumbled finally, though there wasn’t a shred of bite in his voice.

Hook grinned, releasing his hand with a flourish. “You’re welcome, Princey.”

They barely had time to share another word before the loud, booming voice of Lionel cut through the moment.

“ Their Majesties, King Maximilian and Queen Constantina! ”

Hook startled, snapping his head toward the doors just as they swung open. And there they were. The king strode in first, while the queen glided in behind him.

The Queen’s gaze immediately landed on Hook.

She gasped, clutching her pearls—literally. Hook resisted the urge to walk out. He’d been on the receiving end of many reactions in his life like horror, anger, and misplaced lust but this one? This was a uppity in a new level.

Hook forced himself to stand straighter, every muscle in his body tensed. It took every bit of restraint not tug on the jacket.

“Happy birthday, my precious Prince Christopher Rupert Windermere Vladimir Carl Alexander François Reginald Lancelot Herman Gregory James,” Queen Constantina said in one impossibly long breath.

Hook bit his tongue to stop the smirk that tugged at his lips. Someone was more dramatic than him, and it hurt.

“Good to see you too, Mom,” Charming muttered, clearly trying not to look too mortified.

Queen Constantina’s sharp eyes flicked back to Hook like she was zeroing in on prey. “And might you introduce this lovely individual sitting next to you?”

Hook coughed, already regretting agreeing to all this bullshit.

Charming plastered on the fakest smile Hook had ever seen on him all day. “This lovely individual is my partner, the one I was talking about. I'm bringing him to the ball” Charming rambled. “James Hook. Of Neverland. I think. And these are my parents.”

Hook shot him a what the hell look but nodded smoothly, “Lovely to meet you both,” he said, his accent extra posh. 

He stood up, offering his hand for a shake, despite the laughable distance between him and the royals.

Queen Constantina stared at his hand like he’d just offered her a live snake. Hook tried not to let his confidence crack, though he swore his smirk was starting to feel brittle.

King Maximilian, at least, gave him a polite nod, though his lips were twitching like he was trying to hold back a laugh.

The Queen didn’t sit immediately. Oh no. She glided down the table until she stood entirely too close to the pirate. Guess she and her son we’re experts at invading personal space.

“James Hook,” She said, the syllables of his name pronounced like an uncurerable disease. “Such an... interesting choice for company, Christopher. How come I’ve never heard of him before.”

Hook arched a brow, but Charming cut in swiftly, his voice tense. “I wanted to keep things private. Mom, please step back, you’re too close to him.”

Queen Constantina didn’t budge, her sharp gaze still roaming Hook like she was deciding whether to take him out back and hose him off. Instead, her eyes snagged on the royal varsity jacket draped over Hook’s shoulders.

“Oh, I’m just admiring the jacket. It looks so nice on him.” Her tone was saccharine, but Hook didn’t miss the undercurrent—like she couldn’t decide whether the jacket belonged on him or in a donation bin.

Hook cleared his throat, resisting the urge to tug at the lapel. Right, he thought bitterly. Wearing Princey’s clothes. Did not help win brownie points.

“Thanks, Mom,” Charming said a little too quickly. “I let him borrow it because he looked so good in it.”

Hook glanced sideways at Charming, just in time to see him flash an unconvincing grin. Hook rolled his eyes. Smooth fabricated retelling of a story that never happened .

“Honey, maybe step away from the boy,” King Maximilian added lightly, though his voice carried a hint of wariness, like he was trying to keep his wife from poking the bear too hard.

But before more could be said, attention quickly diverted to the table as servants swooped in to lay out the food.

Or well—attempted food.

Hook stared at the absurd portions placed before them. A single baby pancake perched at the center of Charming’s plate, flanked by eggs that looked like someone had taken a quarter of a quarter and called it a serving. 

Hook’s own plate held what appeared to be a microscopic sliver of toast and some “fruit”—and by fruit, he meant a single grape cut in half.

Oh. It all made sense now: Charming’s borderline torturous morning workout routines at the academy, all the extracurricular physical activities. 

Hook had always wondered if the boy was just some over-enthusiastic fitness freak, but no. Apparently, the Prince was on a diet .

“That explains why you eat like a bloody horse back at the academy,” Hook muttered with an amused smirk, spearing his miserable excuse for a piece of egg.

Charming snorted quietly into his glass of water.

Before Charming could reply, King Maximilian cleared his throat, his voice deep but easygoing. “So, Junior, how’s your day going so far?”

Charming perked up like someone had flipped a switch. “Going pretty amazing, ” he said brightly, though he squeezed Hook’s hand under the table like a lifeline. “I can’t tell you why, though.”

Hook shot him a look that said What’s that supposed to mean? Charming just grinned mysteriously.

The King chuckled, clearly entertained by the whole thing. “Oh? Keeping secrets already?”

Before Charming could answer, Queen Constantina took the conversational reins, her smile sugar-coated but still unnervingly sharp. “ I’m so curious—tell me, how did you two meet?”

The pirate teen stiffened. Charming’s hand snuck under the table, finding Hook’s in a silent plea for help. Hook barely refrained from rolling his eyes. Of course he had to answer.

He hadn’t exactly been focused when Charming droned on about their fabricated backstory yesterday, but he’d caught enough to make shit up.

“We’re schoolmates, Your Majesty,” Hook said smoothly, slipping into his most pleasing tone. 

“Your son’s quite the heartthrob, you know. Couldn’t go anywhere without people swooning over him.” He shot Charming a sly grin before continuing. “He fell for me—quite literally—when he was skateboarding. Crashed right into me, knocked us both flat. You could say he fell for me at first sight.”

King Maximilian barked out a laugh. “Accident-prone? Sounds like my boy.”

Queen Constantina’s smile stayed plastered in place, though her expression remained unreadable. “ Quite the story,” she replied, her voice a shade too light to be genuine. But she wasn’t done

“Forgive me if this is personal, James, but I must ask. How did you come to… acquire that?” She gestured vaguely at the hook. “Your hand, I mean.”

He’d been through this song and dance plenty of times before—curiosity wrapped in condescension, pity disguised as politeness. But it was the way she said it like it was a nuisance that hurt.

“A croc took it,” Hook replied casually, though his tone was clipped. “Big bastard. I survived, though, so I’d say I got the better end of the deal. It matches with my last name.”

Queen Constantina blinked, clearly unprepared for his bluntness. “Oh, how… harrowing. It must be such a challenge to—well, you know.”

Hook’s eyes narrowed, and the smile he shot her was anything but kind. “Past is past. Your Majesty. Doesn’t stop me from living my life, just going to school like a normal teenager.”

Charming’s voice cut in, sharper than before. “If you're asking me, I like the Hook.”

Hook blinked, startled. Charming’s words were sweet, but there was a protective edge to them that hadn’t been there before. He glanced sideways at the prince, who met his gaze with a resolute nod.

Queen Constantina seemed equally taken aback, her lips twitching. “Well, I suppose that’s what matters.”

“See, Constantina? This lad’s tougher than half the men in the kingdom.” King Maximilian leaned back in his chair, grinning. “I like him.”

Queen Constantina didn’t respond immediately. She turned her attention back to Charming, her voice dripping with maternal concern. “Well, I just hope you know what you’re doing, Christopher. I’m sure someone like Mr. Hook lives quite an adventurous lifestyle. I wouldn’t want you getting caught up.”

Hook’s jaw tightened, and before he could snap back with something cutting, Charming’s voice rang out, firm and clear.

“With all due respect, Mom, I can decide for myself what’s good for me. You said you wanted to meet my partner and here he is.”

The Queen stared at him, her smile frozen. Hook nearly choked on his shock. He must be dreaming. Did Princey just stand up for him?

“Oh, Constantina, let the boy have his fun. It’s his birthday, after all!” King Maximilian boomed, He turned his attention to Hook with a wide grin. “Now, any skateboarding story James? are you any good?”

“Oh, I don't your majesty. I’ve fought sea monsters, sailed ships but I have not skated any boards yet.” 

King Maximilian barked another laugh, slapping the table lightly. “And son no need to call me your majesty, Dad would do.”

“You don’t need to call him Dad if you don’t want to,” Charming whispered.

Hook snorted under his breath, but before anyone could comment, Queen Constantina leaned forward “So, James, tell me—are you the jealous type?”

Hook let out a short breathy chuckle, the question catching him off guard. “Jealous?”

“Well,” she said smoothly, her tone as sharp as the edge of a dagger. “It’s just that tonight, Christopher will have quite the lineup of dancing partners. It’s customary, you see. He’ll be dancing with a lot of suitress. Lovely ones.”

Hook froze, his grin flickering for half a second before he schooled his features into something resembling indifference. Charming stiffened beside him, his fork clattering lightly against his plate.

“Comes with the territory, doesn’t it?” Queen Constantina continued, voice cool. “I know it’s hard to understand but I’m sure Christopher can explain.”

There it was. A carefully veiled jab, one that Hook knew wasn’t just about the dancing. It crashed like waves on the shore.

Hook leaned back in his chair, forcing a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “No need to worry, Your Majesty. I’ve never been the possessive type. Can’t be jealous if I don’t bloody care.”  His tone was flippant as he tried his best to lie through his teeth. He was a pirate after all, being possessive came with the hat and the job description.

Charming shot him a look, somewhere between apologetic, hurt, and worried, but Hook didn’t meet his gaze. 

“Oh, good,” Queen Constantina said, her smile tightening. “Because Christopher has always been so popular. I’ve heard you're quite popular for things too.”

Hook gripped the edge of the table. He knew a loaded comment when he heard one. What made it sting more was that it wasn’t even the same old barbs, wrapped in prettier packaging. The message was clear: you don’t belong here.

And Hook was fucking sick of it.

The rest of the hour blurred into white noise. His thoughts high as in the stratosphere, checking out completely as the conversation droned on. The clinking of silverware, the hum of idle chatter, it all faded into a low buzz in his ears.

He sat there because he had to. Because this was what he’d come here for, wasn’t it? To shake things up. To cause a scene. He was a pirate at the royal table, and they’d never let him forget it.

Somewhere in that haze, he missed Queen Constantina’s voice softening as she glanced at Charming.

“I’m only looking out for you, Christopher,” she murmured. “And I’m sorry if I came off a bit… harsh earlier.”

Hook didn’t hear it. He didn’t hear any of it. His mind was already halfway out the door.

Finally, the longest hour of his life came to an end. Servants began clearing plates, and Hook decided he’d had enough. He pushed his chair back abruptly, the screech of wood against marble cutting through the room like a knife.

“Right. I think I’ve overstayed my welcome.” His voice was sharp and loud enough to draw everyone’s attention.

“James, what are you doing?”

But Hook didn’t care. He was already on his feet, shoving his hand and hook into the pockets of Charmings jacket. “Thanks for the breakfast, Your Majesties. It was a delight meeting both of you.” His words dripped with sarcasm, but his smirk was nowhere to be found.

“Charming, I can't do this . I’m sorry ” His voice was quieter this time, but no less sharp. And with that, he turned on his heel and strode out of the dining hall, not sparing a single glance back.

The heavy doors closed behind him with a resounding thud, and Hook let out a shaky breath.

He didn’t know where he was going, but he sure as hell wasn’t sticking around.

👑

Charming hesitated at the table, his fingers tapping nervously against his plate. His mother’s pointed questions and his father’s strained attempts to mediate played on a loop in his mind. 

He should stay, keep up appearances— But every second he spent sitting there while Hook stormed off felt like a weight crushing his chest. Finally, with a sharp inhale, Charming stood abruptly.

“Excuse me,” he said, his voice clipped and tight. He didn’t even glance at his parents.

“Christopher, where are you—”

“I’ll be back.” His tone carried enough edge to make even his mom pause. 

He strode toward the door, ignoring Lionel’s raised brow as he intercepted him in the hallway.

“Christopher, you have other obligations,” Lionel reminded him, ever the composed observer.

“They can wait,” Charming snapped, brushing past him.

“They can handle being late, right?” he added over his shoulder, more to himself than Lionel. He didn’t wait for a response as he hurried up the grand staircase.

Hook was at the top of the stairs, shoulders hunched and back turned, but before he could slip away, Charming reached out and grabbed his wrist—his left wrist.

The cold curve of the metal hook pressed against Charming’s palm, and Hook flinched like he’d been burned.

“You were good in there,” Charming said, trying for a grin but faltering. “You caused a scene, just like we planned.”

“Is that supposed to make me feel better?”

Charming wavered. “I mean... I thought you knew coming into this wasn’t going to be fun.”

Hook’s laugh was bitter, almost hollow. “I didn’t agree to any of this. I only went along with it because you caught me red-handed, remember?” His voice dropped. “Don’t act like I had a choice.”

Charming winced. “That’s not fair. I didn’t blackmail you—”

“But you didn’t exactly give me any fucking options, did you?” Hook interrupted, his voice rising.

“I don’t have much time, but I’ll see you later—”

“No, you won’t.” Hook’s voice cut through the air. “I meant what I said. I can’t do this anymore.” His words felt hollow, but the look in his eyes made them hit like a slap. 

Charming stepped closer, desperate now. “Hook, can we just talk about this? I thought you wouldn’t care what they said about you. You said it yourself—there’s no us.”

“But I didn’t know, okay?” Hook snapped, his voice cracking slightly. “I didn’t know it’d get to me.” He exhaled sharply, shaking his head. “I always cared. I just didn’t let it show. And it got to me because—”

“Because what?”

Hook shook his head again, jerking free of Charming’s grip. “Because nothing. It doesn’t matter.” He turned, starting down the stairs.

“James, wait up!” Charming called after him, following. “I need you.”

Hook froze for a moment but didn’t turn around. His voice, when he spoke, was low and brittle. “You don’t need me. You’ve known me for bloody a day and some hours.” 

The prince reached for him again. “James, please, let’s just—”

“No!” Hook snapped, taking a step back. “You don’t get it, do you? I let you see me— all of me. Dancing with you without the hook. You were wearing my clothes. Do you know how hard that was for me?” He let out a bitter laugh, blinking rapidly. “It’s too much. I can’t—I’m sorry.”

Hook’s voice cracked on the last word, and for a moment, Charming thought he saw tears glistening along with the dark brim of his eyes, but Hook turned too quickly for him to be sure.

“James…” 

“No.” Hook’s voice was sword-sharp, slicing through Charming’s protests. He didn’t turn around, but when he spoke again, his words came fast and furious, as though he’d been holding them in for too long.

“You’re not listening. You never do.” Hook finally spun around, his eyes full of hurt. “You walk around like the world bends to your fucking will because it always has. You’ve never had to fight for anything real, have you? You sit there playing the perfect prince while the rest of us—normal people—are fighting just to keep our heads above water!”

Charming tried to interrupt, but Hook’s voice only grew louder, angrier. “Do you know what it’s like to walk into a room and know— know —that you’ll never belong? That no matter what you say, or how hard you try, people like your mother will always look at me like I’m the dirt on their fucking shoes? And you—you brought me here! You put me in that room! And for what? To use me to make a point? To piss off your mummy and daddy because you’re too much of a coward to stand up to them yourself?”

“That’s not fair—” Charming started, his voice weak.

“Not fair?” Hook laughed, bitter and hollow. “You want to talk about fair? What’s fair about putting me through this circus act just so you can have your little rebellion? What’s fair about pretending like you care—like you actually see me—when all you care about is what I can do for you ? You don’t give a shit about me. I’m just a guy you’ll use and throw away when you’re done.”

“That’s not true,” Charming said, his voice cracking.

“Isn’t it?” Hook’s lips curled into a sneer. “Tell me this, Charming—when was the last time you actually thought about what I wanted? About how I felt? You didn’t. You don’t. Because that’s not who you are. You’re a spoiled, entitled asshole.”

Charming’s throat felt tight, his mind scrambling for something—anything—to say. But Hook didn’t give him the chance.

“I let you in,” Hook said, his voice breaking now, anger giving way to something raw and vulnerable. “I let you see parts of me I don’t show anyone. And you took it all, didn’t you? You took and took and took, and now I’m the one left standing here feeling like a fool. Well, congratulations, Your Highness. You win. I hope it was worth it.”

Hook stepped back, his chest heaving, tears shining in his eyes, though he quickly blinked them away.

“Happy fucking birthday, Christopher,” he spat, his voice dripping with venom. “Hope you enjoy it, because I’m done. I’m so done. ”

He turned and stormed down the stairs, his boots echoing against the marble. 

Charming watched him go, frozen in place, his mind racing and his heart pounding.

He ran a hand through his hair, his thoughts swirling in a mess of guilt and confusion. Hook’s words replayed in his head, each one a punch to the gut.

Happy fucking birthday.

Charming let out a shaky breath, his hand gripping the banister as he sank onto the stairs. 

He’d thought he had everything under control. He’d thought he could handle this. But now, sitting there alone, he realized just how wrong he’d been.

He was back to square one.

Charming was someohow even more screwed than before.

🪝

Notes:

Hope you enjoy the fic & Remember to give feedback!!! It is always appreciated. I am so sorry for making you read that.