Kyle has too much to drink. Yaoi and comedyfic! Warnings for wildly ooc Knight mackin' on wildly OOC prince, teenage hormones, and general stupidity.
"Hey, babe. So, what say you and I go back to my room and...."
"...uh...." Kyle gestured in a vaguely-suggestive-but-mostly-just-vague manner with his tankard. "...you know."
The Prince looked over at Kyle with a skeptical eye. "Yes, I know, but Lucretia told me that if you were too drunk to finish your sentence that you were probably too drunk to actually get it up anyway."
"Ah, Lucretia, now don't get me wrong, you're still the hottest thing in the room...uh...currently," Kyle said, glancing over the room, just to make sure that he was being truthful or perhaps to make sure that he wasn't in the presence of someone A) who was more protective of the Prince's honor than the Prince was currently being or B) whom Kyle had used the same line on last night. "But that strategist of yours's got a body that---wait a minute, she told you WHAT?"
The Prince looked mournfully at the bottom of his tankard and debated ordering another. Probably not. Georg had said something about sparring tomorrow.... "That if you were too drunk to fin--"
"That...that...." Kyle looked around again, probably to make sure that Lucretia hadn't wandered in in the last three seconds, "/bitch/! I'll have you know that it was only the one time and--wait, where're you going?"
The Prince dropped a twenty-potch coin on the bar as he stood. "To bed. I'm tired."
"Waaaaaiiit, wait, wait, your Highness." Kyle, even drunk, was still a Queen's Knight. Or maybe he was just being opportunistic. It was hard to tell, with him. "Allow me to escort you back to your room." He stood, swaying only a tiny bit, and managed a steady fist-over-heart bow. "At your service, your Highness."
The Prince sighed. "It's just upstairs. Don't you have to stay and keep the bar propped up or something?"
Kyle contrived to look wounded. "Your Highness. Are you actually suggesting that I would shirk my duty to bodyguard your...very fine...body?" He straightened, almost coming to attention. "I am a Queen's Knight. It is my duty to make sure that no one...uh...bothers you on the trip to your room. Or assassinates you! You never know when assassins might strike!" Kyle nodded, emphatically, and gestured to the door. "After you, your Highness."
The Prince sighed. It wasn't that Kyle wasn't a good Knight. Really, he was a superb swordsman and more loyal than the Prince could ask for. And it wasn't that he didn't trust Kyle at his back, because he did. It was just, he decided as he climbed the stairs, that he could all but feel Kyle's eyes glued to his ass, and it was kind of...distracting.
The trip back to his room was just as short as the Prince had stated that it would be. He wasn't all that surprised, though, when he found himself...well...not quite backed up against the door, but certainly lacking in the proper amount of royal personal space.
Kyle didn't quite nuzzle at his neck, but he certainly looked like he wanted to as he leaned in, murmuring, "I'm not that drunk, you know."
"Yes, you are." The Prince endeavored to not look impressed, even though his body was doing...well, what a teenager's body would be expected to do when it had a strong, handsome, and interested man not a foot away. He was a teenage boy, but he was also the Prince of Falena, and he knew that he had a certain amount of decorum to uphold. Or something. Or so he'd been told. Besides, "You are aware that I'm not a girl, right?"
Kyle blinked. Slowly. "...I'm not gettin' you."
"You're usually only interested in girls. Why are you always flirting with /me/? Especially when Georg would fillet you and feed you to the troops if he heard this conversation?"
"Well, because you're damn pret--uh...handsome?" The turning of gears in Kyle's head was almost audible. After all, the Prince had a minor battery of legends building up around him about what he'd done to those who made the mistake of calling him 'pretty' or otherwise suggesting that he looked like a girl. "Uh...you're a commanding and dignified presence and...aw, hell, who am I kidding, why do we have to question true love, babe?" Kyle leaned in, blonde hair brushing the Prince's cheek as he actually went for the nuzzle this time.
The Prince manfully ignored the fun and interesting--or was that interested?--response that that provoked. "Kyle, I am not your true love," he pointed out.
"Aw, babe, are you worried about Lyon?"
The Prince blinked at the flying--and no doubt alcohol-enhanced--subject change. "What?"
Kyle continued to do something really interesting involving his teeth and the Prince's earlobe. "She 'n I're cool. I hear she's gettin' better, we could go invite her--"
That brought up some horrible images. "Oh gods no. Kyle, for the sun's sake, stop talking."
Kyle stopped talking. Unfortunately, that just meant that he could devote more of his mouth to moving his distraction to the juncture of neck and collarbone, where tongue and lips joined teeth in a scavenger hunt for, evidently, every nerve that the Prince possessed. And though the Prince had heard rumors of Kyle's talented mouth, he'd never...quite...experienced it before...oh /suns/....
Honestly, the Prince wasn't unappreciative of the attention. He was a teenage boy, and as such he thought of sex roughly every four seconds, seven if he was distracted with weighty matters of battleplans or politics or life and death. It was, he'd been assured, entirely normal for a boy his age to have such thoughts about...well...a lot of different people. And with Kyle's...tendency to be over-friendly...it wasn't as if the Prince could say that he'd never thought of this particular situation in loving detail in the privacy of his own room. But...but still....
Kyle made a soft, happy noise, nudging the Prince's head back so he could nibble at the sensitive spot under his jaw.
...but the Prince had had entire classes on how to proper...properly deal with...with temptations to...act below his station and...and....
Kyle leaned in, whole body this time, pressing the Prince just so against the door and the Prince's noble intentions, as might be expected, fizzled like a badly-cast spell.
Oh, to hell with it.
The Prince grabbed the convenient tail of Kyle's hair and pulled, tipping his head back so that the Prince could catch that talented mouth.
Kyle, with a happy, rather triumphant sound, took the opportunity to step closer, his arm stealing around the Prince's waist, his leg sliding oh so slightly between the Prince's, and the Prince of Falena just stood there and allowed himself to be pressed against his bedroom door like some girl in a tale, overcome by her suitor.
Then it occurred to him that perhaps they might want to get out of the hall. The sun knew that there were enough people around that even at midnight it'd only be a matter of time before someone walked by. With a twist of his wrist, the Prince unlatched the door and allowed it to tumble them both into his room. Kyle was surprised at the sudden movement, but he didn't seem all that perturbed as they both ended up on the floor. In fact, one might have even suspected that he'd been in that situation before, as he managed to kick the door shut behind them without having to so much as look at it. One might also have gathered that he was experienced at quickly divesting both himself and his partner of clothes, as the Prince was barely finished untying his headband before he found himself mostly naked on the floor and Kyle sucking helpfully on one nipple. "C...cold...floor...bed....ngh...."
Kyle was also evidently skilled at translating his lovers' distracted directions, because he pulled back with a final lick and a saucy wink, scooped the Prince up in his arms, and tossed him on the bed. Whatever annoyance the Prince might have felt about being manhandled about like a country maiden was promptly cancelled out by the discovery of Kyle's naked chest and arms, which, the Prince's hands reported, were fascinating specimens in and of themselves. Kyle made a noise that encouraged their exploration as he crawled up the Prince's body, nipping as he went...and then froze.
The Prince looked down, irritably, hands full of long blonde hair. "...what?"
Kyle blinked. "Uh...I don't suppose you've got anything...you know.../slick/ in here?"
The Prince stared at him in a manner that clearly stated that no, in fact, he didn't. His voice was flat. "...you didn't bring any oil."
"Well, no...don't you?"
"No. Why would I?"
"Well, I heard that you and Georg 'sparred' a lot and--owowow the hair...."
The Prince frowned but relented. After all, it wasn't like it was the end of the world, and he'd heard of some pretty fun things involving mouths and...still.... "I don't believe that you went through all of that and weren't prepared."
Kyle looked a bit shamefaced at the blow to his reputation as the castle's leading loverboy. "Well, I wasn't expecting /you/, I was kinda expecting, oh, Hazuki, or Fuyo, or that sniper lady...." He smiled charmingly down at the Prince. "Though you're certainly prettier than any of the--oh shit YEOOOOOOWIMSORRYOHGODNOTTHERUNEAAAAAAAAAAAAHohgod...."
That night, the inhabitants of the castle were treated to the not-uncommon sight of Kyle slinking naked through the halls. Most assumed that it was due yet again to the Queen's Knight having gotten thrown out of some lover or another's room. However, everyone had to give credit to the unknown lady responsible, as Kyle didn't usually hobble quite that much nor sport artistic burns in such uncomfortable places.