feeling better, prince william/prince harry, pg
Title: feeling better
Author: likecharity
Pairing: Prince William/Prince Harry
Rating: PG
Warnings: Incest, real person slash.
Summary: A quick fic about Harry's return home.
A/N: Initially I was going to have a lot more dialogue, about how Harry feels about the whole thing, but I figured that William knows all that (even we know all that!) so I couldn't really imagine them waiting until now to have a big talk about it all.
Dinner is quiet and awkward, and Harry shrugs off every question he's asked with a quick answer and a glare. He concentrates on his food, and William watches him, dreading his temper, knowing how angry he is underneath those simple, controlled words and actions.
Harry heads off to his room as soon as he's finished eating. Charles asks him where he's going, and Harry snaps that he wants to be left alone. They all listen as he stomps upstairs. A door slams in the distance, and William excuses himself.
Harry is lying on his bed when William goes in. He's on his side, both legs bent, his cheek pressed against his pillow. William sighs and sinks down onto the bed, nudging his brother's legs aside to make space.
"I know you said you wanted to be left alone, but-"
"You know that never applies to you," Harry interrupts, and while the words are kind, he sort of spits them out with an impatient tiredness that William can't say he's used to.
A pause, and then:
"Don't say it," Harry groans, shutting his eyes.
"What?"
"That it's 'for the best', or whatever. Just don't even fucking start-"
"I wasn't going to."
A long silence follows, and then William says, "I just came in to see how you were."
"Oh, I'm great," Harry sighs, voice heavy with sarcasm as he opens his eyes again to give William a withering look.
William looks down at the bed, starts picking at the quilt. "I can go if you want."
"No, don't," Harry says hurriedly, sitting up and actually reaching out to grab his brother's arm. William feels the strength in his grip and he weakens from it. "I'm sorry...it's just pointless. You already know how I feel about all this, there's no point in talking about it."
"Yeah," says William softly, and Harry lets go of him, flopping back onto the bed. "I know."
"I guess I'm just sick of even thinking about it," he sighs, "'cause there's nothing we can do."
William nods, and there's another silence, but it's not really awkward-they rarely are between the two of them.
"God," Harry grumbles, suddenly, stretching out on the bed. "I haven't had sex in ages."
William laughs, stunned, at the subject change. And then, before he can stop himself, he says "Good," and snorts, and Harry's lips curl reluctantly into a smile.
Another pause, and Harry stretches again, repositions himself, kicking William's arse by mistake and earning himself a punch in the stomach.
"No, but really," Harry says a moment later, looking thoughtful, when he's settled again. "You're the last person I had sex with."
"Keep your voice down," William warns, mostly because he doesn't know what else to say to that. He shoots a look at the bedroom door. He pushed it behind him when he came in, but it's not closed properly, and he doesn't know where everyone else is.
"Chelsy wasn't really speaking to me before I left, remember?" Harry continues, lowering his voice just a little.
"Yeah," William says softly. He starts to say something else, and then stops himself, confused.
"No, go on," Harry urges, looking at him curiously.
"It's just-well, we agreed we wouldn't even talk about it again," William says, feeling a bit stupid. "We said it was the last time."
Harry raises his eyebrows, shrugs, and says, "It's always the last time for us, though, isn't it?" and William frowns.
Harry sits up, his legs bent and pressed against his chest, his chin resting on his knees. "I missed you," he says, his voice small, and he clears his throat.
William kind of hates this, because he knows where it's all going and he doesn't want to want it as much as he does. He wishes he were strong enough to stand up and just leave, right now. He knows that he could do that if he wanted to, but all he wants is just to sit there and let it happen.
I missed you too, he thinks. He doesn't need to say it, Harry knows it. And William knows he wouldn't listen anyway, because he's staring down at the bed like he's steadying himself for something, and they've been through this so many times before.
When it happens, William forgets about the door. He forgets that they're not alone in the house. He forgets about how last time was really, really supposed to be the last time. He only wraps his arms around his brother, breathes him in, feels the gentle scratch of his stubble against his skin.
He doesn't kiss him back, because he never does at first-somehow he always thinks it's okay for him to just sit there and let it happen for a few moments as long as he puts a stop to it, but it never works like he thinks it will, it never happens that way.
Harry moves back, whispers against his lips, "You always make me feel better," and William falters, and gives in.
Author: likecharity
Pairing: Prince William/Prince Harry
Rating: PG
Warnings: Incest, real person slash.
Summary: A quick fic about Harry's return home.
A/N: Initially I was going to have a lot more dialogue, about how Harry feels about the whole thing, but I figured that William knows all that (even we know all that!) so I couldn't really imagine them waiting until now to have a big talk about it all.
Dinner is quiet and awkward, and Harry shrugs off every question he's asked with a quick answer and a glare. He concentrates on his food, and William watches him, dreading his temper, knowing how angry he is underneath those simple, controlled words and actions.
Harry heads off to his room as soon as he's finished eating. Charles asks him where he's going, and Harry snaps that he wants to be left alone. They all listen as he stomps upstairs. A door slams in the distance, and William excuses himself.
Harry is lying on his bed when William goes in. He's on his side, both legs bent, his cheek pressed against his pillow. William sighs and sinks down onto the bed, nudging his brother's legs aside to make space.
"I know you said you wanted to be left alone, but-"
"You know that never applies to you," Harry interrupts, and while the words are kind, he sort of spits them out with an impatient tiredness that William can't say he's used to.
A pause, and then:
"Don't say it," Harry groans, shutting his eyes.
"What?"
"That it's 'for the best', or whatever. Just don't even fucking start-"
"I wasn't going to."
A long silence follows, and then William says, "I just came in to see how you were."
"Oh, I'm great," Harry sighs, voice heavy with sarcasm as he opens his eyes again to give William a withering look.
William looks down at the bed, starts picking at the quilt. "I can go if you want."
"No, don't," Harry says hurriedly, sitting up and actually reaching out to grab his brother's arm. William feels the strength in his grip and he weakens from it. "I'm sorry...it's just pointless. You already know how I feel about all this, there's no point in talking about it."
"Yeah," says William softly, and Harry lets go of him, flopping back onto the bed. "I know."
"I guess I'm just sick of even thinking about it," he sighs, "'cause there's nothing we can do."
William nods, and there's another silence, but it's not really awkward-they rarely are between the two of them.
"God," Harry grumbles, suddenly, stretching out on the bed. "I haven't had sex in ages."
William laughs, stunned, at the subject change. And then, before he can stop himself, he says "Good," and snorts, and Harry's lips curl reluctantly into a smile.
Another pause, and Harry stretches again, repositions himself, kicking William's arse by mistake and earning himself a punch in the stomach.
"No, but really," Harry says a moment later, looking thoughtful, when he's settled again. "You're the last person I had sex with."
"Keep your voice down," William warns, mostly because he doesn't know what else to say to that. He shoots a look at the bedroom door. He pushed it behind him when he came in, but it's not closed properly, and he doesn't know where everyone else is.
"Chelsy wasn't really speaking to me before I left, remember?" Harry continues, lowering his voice just a little.
"Yeah," William says softly. He starts to say something else, and then stops himself, confused.
"No, go on," Harry urges, looking at him curiously.
"It's just-well, we agreed we wouldn't even talk about it again," William says, feeling a bit stupid. "We said it was the last time."
Harry raises his eyebrows, shrugs, and says, "It's always the last time for us, though, isn't it?" and William frowns.
Harry sits up, his legs bent and pressed against his chest, his chin resting on his knees. "I missed you," he says, his voice small, and he clears his throat.
William kind of hates this, because he knows where it's all going and he doesn't want to want it as much as he does. He wishes he were strong enough to stand up and just leave, right now. He knows that he could do that if he wanted to, but all he wants is just to sit there and let it happen.
I missed you too, he thinks. He doesn't need to say it, Harry knows it. And William knows he wouldn't listen anyway, because he's staring down at the bed like he's steadying himself for something, and they've been through this so many times before.
When it happens, William forgets about the door. He forgets that they're not alone in the house. He forgets about how last time was really, really supposed to be the last time. He only wraps his arms around his brother, breathes him in, feels the gentle scratch of his stubble against his skin.
He doesn't kiss him back, because he never does at first-somehow he always thinks it's okay for him to just sit there and let it happen for a few moments as long as he puts a stop to it, but it never works like he thinks it will, it never happens that way.
Harry moves back, whispers against his lips, "You always make me feel better," and William falters, and gives in.