Archive of Our Own

Kojiro gasps as the swan’s form shifts, water rising with it, limbs elongating, feathers dissolving into flowing fabric– white patterned with pink feathers, with sleeves that billow out like wings. The force of the transformation pushes him back against the lakebed, and when the spray finally settles, he finds himself pinned beneath a very familiar figure.

It’s Kaoru, drenched and furious, his golden eyes burning, and one hand fisted in Kojiro’s collar. Kojiro stares up at him, coughing out lake water.

“Kaoru–?!”

“What are you doing here?” Kaoru hisses, but doesn’t loosen his grip. His breath comes fast, his chest rising and falling, his damp hair clinging to his cheeks.

“I should be asking you that,” Kojiro snaps, sitting up despite Kaoru still straddling him. 

“Everyone thinks you’re dead, Kaoru. But I thought–”

“You thought I had run off again,” Kaoru growls, shoving at his chest. “Well I didn’t, you oaf. Not willingly, anyway.”

It’s Kojiro’s instinct to argue, but he takes a deep breath. Kaoru is alive, and that’s what matters. “One of your guards said you were attacked by… some sort of oni? But… why are you–?”

Kaoru’s grip on Kojiro’s collar tightens for a moment before he exhales sharply, shoving himself upright and away. He runs a hand through his damp hair, pushing it from his face. 

“That so-called oni is not what it appears to be.”

Kojiro frowns, about to retort, but something in Kaoru’s expression stills him. There’s no misplaced arrogance, no sharp-edged condescension.

“Then what is it?”

“Hide in the trees over there, and you will soon find out.” He narrows his eyes, “Do not reveal yourself until I say so.”

Kojiro hesitates. Every instinct tells him to demand answers now, to drag Kaoru out of the water and back to the castle where they can make sense of this. However Kaoru’s face is set so serious, and he crosses his arms tightly, clinging to himself for comfort. 

With a frustrated sigh, Kojiro pushes himself to his feet. “Fine,” he mutters, “But if this is some elaborate scheme to get out of marrying me I’d rather you just–”

“Just go,” Kaoru snaps, his attention already turning eastward.

Kojiro reluctantly sloshes out of the lake and makes his way to the treeline, taking cover behind the thick trunk of an old tree. He can still see Kaoru standing in the shallows, arms folded, shoulders drawn tight. The sky above them has deepened into twilight, the last streaks of pink clinging to the horizon.

A hush settles over the lake, then a chilling wind casts over it. Kojiro’s fingers drift toward the hilt of his sword as unease curls in his gut. Then a voice rings through the clearing. 

"Ah, my dear Kaoru," the voice lilts, smooth and amused. "How lovely it is to see you waiting for me so patiently."

Kojiro tenses behind the tree as a figure emerges from the gloom, walking the edge of the lake with an air of practiced elegance. The moonlight catches upon luxurious robes of red and royal blue, and Kojiro immediately recognises the sharp, curled smile of Ainosuke Shindo– a duke of high standing from an affluent kingdom. 

Kaoru remains unmoving in the shallows, his arms crossed over his chest. "You know I have no choice."

Duke Shindo chuckles, tilting his head. "And yet, you still find a way to resist me. It is quite endearing, really." He sighs, pressing a hand to his chest with feigned disappointment. "But must we do this little dance every evening? Would it not be easier to simply say yes?”

“I would rather choke on pondweed.”

"Such dramatics. But alas, my dear prince, that is simply not an option. Not when you are far too precious to waste away in this lonely lake." He takes a step forward, then another into the water and closes the distance between them. "All I ask is a simple vow, Kaoru. Marry me, and you will–”

“I will not hand you my kingdom so easily.”

In a movement too fast for Kojiro’s eyes to track, Duke Shindo’s hand lashes out, seizing Kaoru’s wrist. With a sharp pull, he drags him into a waltz, the water parting around them as if it obeys his will.

The Duke leads with practised ease, his grip firm yet unyielding, and with each step, the water beneath them shimmers unnaturally like the grandest of ballrooms. Kojiro grips his sword hilt, barely restraining himself.

"You are stubborn," Shindo sighs, dipping Kaoru low before pulling him back up, closer, their faces nearly touching. "But in time, you will come to your senses."

Kaoru glares up at him, shoving himself away, and the Duke lets him go. “In your dreams, you parasite.” 

The Duke gives another theatrical sigh, but turns on his heel, raising his hand in a wave. “Until tomorrow evening then, my dear prince.” 

With that, he vanishes into the darkened tree line. Kaoru’s shoulders shudder, but he remains unmoving for several minutes. Then he lets out a groan of frustration, and kicks at the lake water. 

“You can come out now, he won’t be back until tomorrow.” 

“That bastard,” Kojiro hisses, crashing out of the bushes, beginning to draw his blade, “I’ll have his head for this.”

“Don’t be so foolish,” Kaoru snaps, “Don’t you know anything about curses? If the Duke dies before the spell is broken, then it can never be undone.”

“Well, in some stories, it’s the opposite…” Kojiro mutters, but resheathes his sword. “Is there another way to break the spell then?”

Kaoru’s lips part, then shut. His face flushes pink, and he turns to glare over the shining surface of the lake, his arms crossed tightly. 

“I do not know,” he says, and Kojiro knows him well enough to tell it’s a lie. “Just… keep this to yourself, so we do not cause an international incident.”

“Right,” Kojiro sighs, rubbing at his temple. “We’ll work this out… somehow. I’ll try to come tomorrow night as well.”

“You better,” Kaoru says, “and bring some proper food next time.” 

Kojiro returns to the lake after night has safely fallen to avoid the Duke’s visit. By the time he arrives, Kaoru is perched atop a rock with his toes dipped in the lake water, looking out at the distant silhouette of the castle, lit in faint, pinpricks of yellow lantern light. The other prince seems lost in thought, until he hears Kojiro wade into the shallows.

“You came,” he says, eyes widening. Kojiro furrows his brow at Kaoru’s surprise, as if he had any reason to doubt him. 

“You told me to bring you food, so I did,” Kojiro says, holding out a batch of onigiri wrapped in cloth. 

He snatches the bundle of food out of Kojiro’s outstretched hand, untying it, and greedily biting into the rice ball like a man starved. Grains stick to his face and fingertips, and a few float on the surface of the lake. Kaoru put on such prim and proper airs when their families and the nobility called for it, but Kojiro has seen these other sides to him– stuffing his puffy little cheeks with stolen snacks when they were children, or sucking sweet sauce off his fingers when they were seated together at some stuffy celebration as teenagers, when the adults weren’t looking.

It is strange, really, how the person in the world he knows most intimately also despises him. 

Kaoru wipes his lips on the cloth, then holds it out for Kojiro to take. “I am finished.”

“Thank you for offering to share, your majesty,” Kojiro grumbles, “and you’re welcome, by the way.”

Kaoru gives him a sidelong look, but it lacks any of his usual scorn. They both look out over the lake for a few minutes, neither of them speaking. Despite being betrothed nearly all their lives, they seldom have time alone, or at least away from the constraining walls of the castle to actually speak to one another. Bickering came easily to them both, whereas conversation did not.

“Do you remember when we came up here, years ago?” Kojiro says, “I think we were… thirteen? Fourteen, maybe? Anyway, I was told you take you on a romantic boat ride–”

“--while our guards kept watch from all angles. I remember. Very romantic.,” Kaoru rolls his eyes, then a sly smirk tugs at his lips. “You weren’t very good at paddling. All strength, no skill.”

“Didn’t help that you kept kicking me beneath the seats until we fought and capsized.” Kojiro says, allowing himself to laugh at the memory of Kaoru covered in pond weed, wringing out his drenched hair on the opposing shore. “It’s much calmer, like this, isn’t it? Despite the circumstances.”

Kaoru hums in agreement. “I often thought about just disappearing into these woods, leaving all of this nonsense behind.”

Kojiro glances at him, but says nothing, waiting.

“I used to look forward to these summers,” Kaoru says eventually. “Even when I claimed I didn’t. They were the only time I could… express myself, in a way. If I lashed out, you would just act in kind, instead of trying to scold or placate me.”

Kojiro nods slowly, gaze still fixed on the water. “Yeah. I felt the same.” He swallows. “I still do.”

“I never wanted this,” Kaoru murmurs, voice low. “Any of it. The crown, the titles, the expectations. All of that guff decided before I was even born. What I wore, how I stood, what I was called. It was all laid out for me. Even this damned curse is a consequence of a decision I didn’t make.”

“I get that,” Kojiro says. “My mother told me once that they poured over all the family trees of the nobility one I was born to better pick an ideal partner for me. Trying to figure out which pairing would give the perfect heir. Like I was a stud horse. Good bone structure, strong temperament, broad shoulders… prime breeding stock.” He huffs a laugh, sounding bitter and tired. “Didn’t matter what I wanted. It was never about me. Just what I could produce.”

It had shaped the way Kojiro thought about himself for years– his self-worth, his body, and his perceived autonomy over it. So he flirted with the house staff away from prying eyes, and let wandering hands slip into his robes in the dark corners of parties, as if every intimate encounter would gradually reduce the value placed upon his loins.

Kaoru says nothing again, but Kojiro feels a hand rest upon his shoulder. He reaches up to cover it with his own, knowing that the cursed prince understands him like no other ever could. 

“You cannot be serious.”

Kojiro’s mother sits tall upon her cushioned throne, framed by embroidered screens and the sun crest of their royal lineage. Her fingers press into her temple in slow, pained circles. She is not used to Kojiro being a disobedient son, unless it involves martial matters. Often when summer had passed and Kaoru was gone, he would inform him that for her own sanity she would be holidaying in one of their northern residences alone to recover from three months of their combined antics. 

“Kojiro,” she says, with a sorry sigh, “I know this is not ideal, but… I must call off the search. We have found neither hide nor hair of Prince Kaoru and, regrettably, we must find an alternative suitor.”

“Turning what should have been our engagement party into a social event for me to pick a new bride is…” He scoffs, shakes his head, “It’s tasteless! It’s only been a fortnight, and I’ve been–”

“I know, Kojiro. I know you have been conducting your own searches… against my best wishes,” she mutters the last part, but he thinks part of her was initially relieved that he actually wanted to find Kaoru after their tumultuous years. “It is your twenty-fifth year– you should be wed, and potentially have produced an heir by now–”

Kojiro’s jaw tightens. He tunes her out but keeps his eyes locked on her as she continues to lecture him. Despite his years of griping and reluctant betrothal meetings, he had always pictured a future with Kaoru at his side, even if it was the future that had been planned for them both. The idea of an unknown noble taking Kaoru’s place, smiling vacantly, speaking to placate him due to his title, makes his gut twist.

He rides to the lakeside as fast as possible that night and does not stop, not until the trees part and the familiar shimmer of the lake greets him beneath the pale moonlight. The prince dismounts with a thud, the horse barely slowed before he throws himself off the saddle. Kaoru is sitting on a half-submerged stone near the bank, sleeves rolled up, combing his fingers through his damp hair. He glances over his shoulder, his sharp eyes glinting in the darkness. 

“You cut it far too close,” he hisses, standing as Kojiro approaches, “The Duke only just left. If you had arrived minutes earlier you might have been seen–!”

Kojiro doesn’t let him finish. He strides up to the water’s edge, then his boots break the shimmering surface of the water, but he pays no mind to the chill seeping into his shoes. 

“Kaoru,” his voice is still ragged from the ride, and he takes a breath, “the party is going ahead–”

Kaoru snorts, “Our engagement party is going on without me?”

“If you’ll let me finish. It’s no longer our engagement party,” Kojiro snaps, “it’s an event to find me a new suitor.”

He expects a retort, or a biting comment, but Kaoru just… stares at him, his gaze softening, eyes widening. He looks away, over the lake’s surface, and when he next speaks his voice is brittle. 

“So have you come to wish me goodbye?”

“No!” Kojiro says quickly, planting his hands on Kaoru’s shoulders, “No, I just– urgh, I don’t want this either!”

Kaoru doesn’t respond again. He folds his arms across his chest, but not with his usual defiance. His slender shoulders are drawn in, his posture made small and childish. Kojiro hates seeing him this way, devoid of that bite he had come to know and care for. 

“Kaoru,” Kojiro’s grip tightens, and he leans over to look the other prince in the eyes, “please, be honest with me. Tell me how to break this curse.”

“I told you I don’t know how,” he mumbles.

“You’re lying,” Kojiro presses, “Now tell me.”

Kaoru sighs. For a moment, there is only the wind whispering in the trees nearby as the branches sway, and pink petals drift by them to settle on the water’s surface. Kaoru watches them for a moment, then speaks. 

“Fine, I will tell you, but only after the party,” he holds up a hand when Kojiro tries to interrupt, “If you do not find someone there you wish to marry instead… then I promise I’ll tell you.”

Kojiro clenches his jaw. He wants to shake Kaoru by those boney shoulders until he sees sense and stops acting coy. The pink-haired prince is as stubborn as he is, if not more so.

“You’re impossible,” he mutters. “Fine. Have it your way.”

They both stand there in an uneasy silence, unaware of their audience. Cloaked in silks the colours of the evening light, Duke Shindo watches them from the shadows. His gloved hand reaches upwards, and plucks a single petal from the branches that obscure him, rolling it between his fingers. It bruises and crushes easily– the soft pink bleeding to red beneath his fingers before he lets it fall, discarded to the mossy forest floor. 

He tilts his head, lips stretching into a cunning smirk as he disappears into the night. 

Lanterns hang like stars from the high ceiling of the grand hall, painted with wisps of greenery. Their glow casts a soft, amber light over the partygoers below. Kojiro stands beneath the banner of his house, offering polite bows to the noble daughters that are paraded past him– their perfume too strong, their giggles slightly too high pitched, fluttering their fans and hiding their faces. He smiles at every single practiced compliment, and graciously accepts every favour offered to him, but as soon as they turn away his smile wanes and he stares hollowly out the hall windows, trying to catch a distant glimmer of the lake in the moonlight. 

His mother stands by his side, offering smiles and graceful bows, trying in vain to coax even a flicker of enthusiasm from him. She sees the stiffness in his shoulders, the way his well-practiced smile never reaches his eyes. Eventually, when the last of the guests has been welcomed, she touches his arm and pulls him aside to a side chamber. In there, she takes one of his broad hands between both of her own.

“I know you do not want this, Kojiro,” she says, frowning. 

“I’m sorry. I’m trying.” He replies, stilted, “I just… it should be Kaoru.” 

His mother’s sigh is weary, but not unkind. “Twenty-five years of squabbles and attempts to run away, and now you wish to marry him?”

He does. He wants to marry the boy that bit him back when Kojiro pulled his hair first, and the teenage renegade who never softened his tongue for Kojiro’s sake, who spoke with sharp honesty instead of empty flattery, and who matched his fire with one of his own. He wants to marry the man that understands him most, that does not adhere to airs and graces around him, who challenges him and speaks his mind– he wants a partner, not a trophy.

“Kojiro,” his mother says again, reaching up and placing her hand against his cheek. He remembers when she used to cradle his face the same way when he was a boy, back when he had to tilt his head upward to meet her eyes. Now she has to guide his gaze down to hers. 

“I wanted you to marry for love, I truly did. That is why I wanted so badly for this arrangement with Prince Kaoru to work out. I had hoped..." she trails off, pressing her lips together briefly. "If you cannot choose a bride, I will have no choice but to choose one for you."

His heart sinks to his stomach. His hands clench at his sides. She releases him with a small, trembling pat, smoothing the deep green silk of her kimono with a trembling hand, gathering herself back into the composed, unreachable monarch she is expected to be. She cannot meet his eyes again.

“Take a moment and compose yourself,” she says, leaving him alone in the chamber. 

His eyes burn at the corners, and he wipes away frustrated, stinging tears before they dare to fall. He wants Kaoru because he loves him, for far longer than he realised, letting those years slip through his fingers like water, mistaking familiarity for inevitability.

If there is even the slightest chance to save him, he will take it, even if it means throwing away everything. He could slip away through the servant’s corridors– there is one that leads out into the gardens, down the hill, and towards the river. If he saddles his horse quick enough, he could be back at the lake well before dawn, and Kaoru can tell him how to end this curse–

Before he can take even one step, he hears the music from the hall stutter and stop, the crowd gasping, murmuring, as the front doors are thrown open with a heavy thud.

Kojiro strides back into the main hall, holding himself tall, and as he does the guests part to allow him through with wide eyed stares. It’s Kaoru, framed by the doorway, draped in deep red fabrics that are embroidered with intricate blue peacock feathers, sitting to reveal a hint of his slim, sharp shoulders. His hair is held back with a crimson ribbon, and it sways as he tilts his head, and speaks to the room.

“I apologise, dear people, for my absence,” he says, stepping forward until he is chest to chest with Kojiro, “I have come to claim my prince,” he casts a look around the room, at the stricken faces of all the noblewomen, until he finds Kojiro’s mother, “and I presume that we still have the blessing of her majesty, hmm?”

Kojiro’s mother has been frozen in place, a hand half-raised to her mouth in astonishment, stuttering as she loses all composure, “O– of course, Prince Kaoru, I– I mean, the Nanjo kingdom will still uphold our agreement–”

“Wonderful,” he cuts in, holding his hand up for Kojiro to take, which the prince dumbly does, “then play a waltz for us, and let the festivities continue.”

Kaoru’s golden eyes veer towards a sharp yellow that Kojiro cannot seem to tear his gaze away from. His smile is pulled too thin and wide as the musicians tentatively resume playing. The dance floor is empty save for them, all eyes fixed upon the pair as Kaoru presses himself against Kojiro. 

The music lurches into a slow waltz, and Kojiro feels his heart hammering against his ribs between their chests. Kaoruo’s hands feel foreign where they entwine with his own; too tight, too possessive, like a snare hidden beneath the silk sleeves.

“You look so shocked, my love,” Kaoru says, voice lilting sweetly under the swell of the strings, “Aren’t you pleased to see me again, free of my affliction?”

The words are honeyed, but Kojiro’s mouth tastes sour. He manages a stiff nod– only then realising he’s yet to utter a single word. However the cadence of Kaoru’s voice is cloying and hypnotic, and blends with the mesmerising melody of the music.

“You have always belonged to me, haven’t you?” Kaoru whispers, drawing them closer. There is a chill that radiates from him despite the heat of the hall. “Say it. Proclaim it to everyone. Tell them you love me and only me.”

The faces around them blur. Kojiro finds it hard to focus on anything except those narrowed, yellow eyes that trap him with their intensity. His lips part, the words on the tip of his tongue, but he remembers Kaoru’s words at the lake– and suddenly, everything clicks into place.

On the next turn of the waltz, he dips his dance partner low, his arm strong around the small of his back. He leans close enough that only the other man can hear the growl that escapes through his gritted teeth; 

“I know you aren’t him, Shindo.”

There is a beat of silence. Then Kaoru– no, the person wearing Kaoru’s face –chuckles. A low, rich rumbling.

“How sharp of you, my prince,” the Duke murmurs, his false smile stretching even further, “to see through my glamour so swiftly– bravo!”

The intruder straightens them upright with unnatural strength. The music drifts on. They remain locked in the cadence of the dance, trapped in a standstill.

“Love truly is the most powerful magic of all, isn’t it?”

Love. That was it. That is why Kaoru wouldn’t tell him how to break his curse, why he had forced Kojiro to consider other suitors, it was to offer him the option to choose for himself. If Kaoru had given him that chance in exchange for his own suffering, does that mean Kaoru feels the same? 

“You’ll pay for what you’ve done,” Kojiro growls.

"Would you really want to face the political ramifications from that? All over a story about swans and sorcery?" The Duke cuts in smoothly, tilting his head with a glint of mockery. 

"Enough."

Kojiro moves fast. He seizes Shindo’s wrist, twisting it behind his back, and shoves him forward with sudden force. The crowd gasps, and the music dies with a discordant scrape of strings. He hears his mother call out to him in horror. 

“Seize this man!” Kojiro calls, voice echoing off the marble walls. “He is an enemy of the realm and under arrest for the use of illegal magic and deceit.”

“What are you doing?” Shindo hisses, eyes wild. His glamour flickers for a moment, revealing his own angular face beneath Kaoru’s. “You’ll regret this—!”

“I doubt it,” Kojiro snaps, pulling back his arm and striking his fist across his face, so that the sorcerer loses focus on his glamour in front of the horrified crowd. 

The guards surge forward, flanking the struggling Duke and hauling him back through the hall. Shindo snarls as he’s dragged away, his fine robes catching underfoot. 

“This isn’t over!” he spits, eyes blazing. “You think this ends with me? You’ve made a dangerous enemy, prince—”

Kojiro doesn’t hear his last threat, as he uses the commotion and crowd to get away. 

Still dressed in his finery, Kojiro sneaks out of the castle during the chaos to the stables. He rides his horse on the now familiar trails towards the lake. Kaoru sits amongst the reeds, plucking at one until he notices Kojiro’s approach. His mouth is open in clear shock, and his eyes are wide and shining in the starlight. 

“You… are here?” He says, sounding breathless, as Kojiro walks to join him in the shallows. As his initial shock wears off, the cursed prince stands up. There’s disbelief written across his face, softening quickly into something more vulnerable.

“I am,” Kojiro says. He stops just a pace away, chest heaving, heart hammering loud enough that he’s sure Kaoru can hear it too. “I… I know how to break the curse, Kaoru.”

Kaoru looks down. “I didn’t want to tell you,” he murmurs. “I didn’t want you to feel cornered. I didn’t want to make you choose out of guilt or obligation.”

“I know.” Kojiro steps forward, closing the last part of the distance between them. “It isn’t guilt that brought me back here. It was the thought of losing you. I think I’ve always loved you, Kaoru. I just… didn’t understand it until I had to face a future without you in it.”

Kaoru looks up at him, stunned. “You… you love me?” Kojiro nods, and Kaoru huffs, puffing out his cheeks. “Well if you had just told me that sooner–”

Kojiro pulls Kaoru close, pressing his lips firmly against the other prince's. Kaoru's golden eyes are blown wide, shocked, but soon they flutter shut and his hands land on Kojiro's broad shoulders as he kisses back. 

The water laps around their feet as they shed each other of their outer clothes, the silks and fine fabrics adrift around them. Kojiro lays Kaoru down against the shore, half in the shallows, and gazes down at his lover’s body, lithe, lean and beautiful, strands of his long pink hair floating around him like a halo.

He touches a thumb to Kaoru’s lower lip, and leans down to kiss him again. His hands drift lower, ghosting over the gentle swell of his breasts, and stroking the bones of his hips. Holding them firmly, but gently, his thumb stretches out to stroke at his lover’s clit, making the other prince shudder and the water ripples around him. Kaoru moans beautifully, his hips rolling up to meet Kojiro’s touch. He looks radiant, beneath Kojiro, moon and star light reflecting off his shining skin in the night. 

“Hurry up,” Kaoru whispers, but it lacks any bite– it’s as close to a plea as Kojiro will get from him. 

Kojiro rolls his eyes lovingly. He leans over his lover, taking his nipple into his mouth, sucking, teasing, and Kaoru cards his fingers through his hair in response, murmuring contently. His fingers trace over the dip in Kaoru’s hip, between his thighs, his fingertips gliding between his folds, and Kojiro feels his own cock throb at the slick heat he feels. Kaoru spreads his leg wider– a royal invitation for the prince to go further. 

“Kaoru,” Kojiro murmurs, pressing his wet fingers together, savouring how it feels to know that he did this to his betrothed. He raises his fingers to his lips and sucks, watching how Kaoru’s face flushes. “You’re beautiful,” he says.

“Kojiro…”

Having the foresight to curb Kaoru’s whinging, he slips his palm up against Kaoru’s pussy again. His thumb finds Kaoru’s clit, and his fingers glide between those soft, slick folds. Tempted by the feat of Kaoru’s hole at his finger tips, he gently presses one thick finger into him, watching as he gasps and throws his head back. The water splashes around him as Kojiro curls his fingers, fucks him on them, until Kaoru’s thighs tremble and he grips at Kojiro’s shoulders hard enough to bruise. 

“I want you inside me,” Kaoru mutters, scowling in embarrassment. 

“You only had to ask nicely,” Kojiro replies, smirking. 

Kaoru rolls his eyes, and the prince obliges by lining his cock up with his cunt, rubbing his tip against his folds and savouring how easily their skin slides against each other. He pulls Kaoru’s hips up, just enough to spread him open further as he slowly sinks into Kaoru’s warm, wet heat, groaning breathily as he savours the tightness twitching around his cock. Kaoru gasps as Kojiro claims him, and Kojiro watches the other man’s face carefully– slowing down at his initial discomfort, seeing it melt away into pleasure, until he’s hilt-deep inside him.

They had both wanted this, he realises, but on their own terms. A passionate tryst away from the four walls of the castle, instead expected to bed each other after a forced wedding ceremony for the sake of producing an heir. Kojiro holds Kaoru’s hands as he leans over him, rutting into the prince at a steady pace. The wet, slapping sounds of their lovemaking are lost in the water splashing around them, the waves they create matching their rhythm. 

Kojiro watches Kaoru below him, eyes fluttering shut, lips parted, and his head rolling back as Kojiro fucks him. He’s gorgeous, and Kojiro wants to see this view every day, for the rest of their wedded lives. He changes his angle, holding one of Kaoru’s legs up as he thrusts harder, faster, his sac slapping against Kaoru’s skin with each movement. 

Kaoru looks up at Kojiro in a daze, struggling to form words between his moans, “K– Kojiro…”

Kojiro can tell he’s close, he can feel Kaoru’s insides clench greedily around his cock. He nods, and fucks Kaoru harder, savouring the moans that spill from his pretty lips as his orgasm takes him. Kojiro fucks him through it, letting Kaoru twitch and pant and cling to him for as long as he needs to. 

“I’ve got you,” he murmurs, into the crook of Kaoru’s neck.

“I know,” Kaoru says softly, and for a moment Kojiro thinks he might be feeling vulnerable, until he feels Kaoru tapping his lower back with his heel. “Well? Are you going to finish too?”

Kojiro snorts. He lifts Kaoru’s leg over his shoulder. “Fine, your highness....” 

He picks up the pace again, fucking into Kaoru hard and deep, until he can feel the telltale tightening in his abdomen, and the mounting bliss of his orgasm building. He glances down to watch his own cock slide in and out of his sopping cunt, enchanted by their bodies joining. He throws his head back as he climaxes, hips snapping forward as he cums inside his lover. 

Eventually he lowers Kaoru’s leg down. He pulls out slowly, watching as his seed leaks from Kaoru’s glistening pussy. His fingers drift to touch it, making Kaoru shudder.

“Do not be so voracious,” Kaoru says, although he smiles.

Kojiro hums, pulling Kaoru up into his arms. They embrace in the shallows of the lake, the water settling calmly around them. Kojiro runs his fingers through Kaoru’s hair, teasing out the tangles with gentle patience. Above them, the stars are fading, and the sky is beginning to blush with the early hints of morning. They cling to own another as the sun begins to rise above the tops of the trees– and instead of the downy softness of feathers, Kojiro still feels skin beneath his fingertips; the lithe line of Kaoru’s spine, the steady press of his body, and perfectly human fingernails digging lightly into his shoulders.

They stay like that for a long while, chest to chest, until Kaoru lets out a quiet, stunned laugh.

“The curse… it’s lifted.”

“It seems so.”

Kaoru pulls back suddenly, wading to the shallows and muttering to himself as he gathers the sodden heap of just his clothes, wringing them out with dramatic flair.

“Ruined,” he mutters, “and we don’t even have the time to dry them.”

“Oh?” Kojiro tilts his head.

Kaoru sighs, and flings Kojiro’s robe at him. “Because we have a wedding to plan, you idiot.” 

Kojiro’s laugh rings across the water, as bright and full as the day ahead promises to be. He rises, water streaming from his body, and strides over to Kaoru, sweeping him up before the other prince can protest.

“Fine, but I’m picking the food.”

“You’re picking nothing without my approval.”

“Prissy.”

“Idiot.”

They redress in their wet clothes, and leave the lake with the dawn light warm on their backs. Behind them, the water lies still and undisturbed, save for the pink petals that drift across its surface.