Choices Start Here

We’ve got time

The morning after

Let me taste you

I’ve never done this before

Let’s swap

Fantasy

Messy

Sweet and slow

Hard and fast

Caught in the act

Voyeurism

Three is not a crowd

Teeth and claws

Clothes stay on

We shouldn’t be doing this…

We just met and this is crazy….

Reclaiming (Make up sex)

Edging

Shower sex

Angry sex

Shhh, you have to keep quiet

Mark me, make me yours

You’re mine

Worship

Punishment

Self love

Jealousy/possession

I can make you forget him

Just friends?

I didn't know I was into that (Kink unlocked)

Bonus Prompts:

@dcbbw @bebepac @karahalloway @harleybeaumont @aussiegurl1234 @alj4890 @nestledonthaveone

@twinkleallnight  @kat-tia801 @missameliep @jerzwriter @twinkle-320

@argylemnwrites  @katedrakeohd @peonierose @sillydg

@jerzwriter @choicesficwriterscreations

Westchester was a small town, and Westchester High a smaller place, which meant basically everyone knew everyone. 

But that didn't mean everyone was friends with everyone. Most people already had a friend group that had lasted years, which made it difficult for a stranger to assimilate into. Others were in cliques that never really piqued Faye's interest for one reason or another. The only friends they had were the three bandmates from Latecomers . It was an unregistered school band– school-affialited only because they would occasionally sneak into the music room after school to play together if it was not already occupied by the actual, legit school band. Even then, they barely saw said friends in their day-to-day life, since one of them already had their own crowd and the other two were in another grade entirely.    

More importantly, a good amount of these students were assholes and bullies, who happened to be at the top of the high school food chain. These were usually the jocks or cheerleaders, whom Faye knew to steer clear from, though trouble would still knock on their door because it saw them as essentially a loner– which meant no backup. The only reason they would willingly engage with the bullies was to rescue some other poor soul from their vile dictatorship– like right now.

The corridors were empty save for a few people who'd just finished detention or club practices. Faye was neither of them but a secret third thing: they were just cooped up in the library to finish their assignments for the day. With their parents out of town, the house was unbearably quiet. One would expect them to be used to it, given how common it was for their parents to go on business trips, but it never got easier. 

After shoving a few books into the locker, Faye adjusted the bag hanging from their shoulder and headed for the exit. Just as they were about to round a corner, familiar, grating voices stopped them in their tracks. 

“For real though, did you cut it with a bowl on your skull or something?” Ben said, his back to Faye as he circled his hand around his head. He was with two other guys, bouncing a basketball up and down with his free hand. Sandwiched in the middle was a face Faye almost couldn’t recognize— Andy, with his shoulder-length hair gone and replaced by a bowl cut that looked like it was hastily chopped with a machete. He looked like a kettle ready to go off.

“Nah man, the bowl was probably the cutting tool,” another guy snickered. The same year as Ben, he was part of the basketball team and just as much of a bully as Ben was.

“If you must know, I cut it with scissors like a normal person would,” Andy bit out, slamming a bag into the far back of his locker. 

The guy shrugged. “That ain’t a normal haircut though, that’s a Karen cut.”

“Oh ex-queeze me,” Ben said in a high-pitched voice, “Can I speak to your manager puh-lease?” 

The two doubled over in heaps of laughter, either ignorant of or ignoring the way Andy’s face muscles struggled to disguise his rage. The guys always played rough with each other, their jokes always a bit too overboard, a hint too humiliating. They cared more about being funny than each others’ feelings. But was Andy one of them yet? Had they accepted him as such after years of pretending not to see him?

“Come on Kang, do your best Karen impression!” Ben nudged Andy, and that was when Andy snapped.

“You're one to speak because your hair makes you look like a goddamn pineapple.” He glared at the taller guy, arms clenched at his sides. 

Ben went still, his expression hidden. From the back, his spikey hair did look like the crown of a pineapple.

BANG ! Faye flinched as he abruptly punched the lockers, the impact ringing through the corridor. He was towering over Andy now, but Andy stood his ground, arching his head back to look him dead in the eyes.

“You think you can grab a pair of scissors, snap it around your head, and become one of us?” Ben said lowly.

“Hey!” Faye acted before they could think, face hot with anger. Andy clenched his jaw, somewhat relieved to see them. 

Ben’s mouth curled into a cruel smirk. “Oh look, a knight in…” He scanned their outfit. “…edgy scraps? What makes you think you can just join our conversation, weirdo?”

“Wow, what an original insult,” Faye said with feigned surprise. “Stay the hell away from Andy or I’ll call the principal.”

“What? Can Andy not stand up for himself? I thought she was a real boy-”

Ben’s punched to the floor before his words can land, sharp red tickling down his nose. The veins on Andy’s neck looked like they could pop any second as he kneeled and grabbed Ben by the collar, “Say that again, I dare you!”

Ben’s friend tried to drag Andy off him, but to no avail. The commotion caught a few students’ attention as they stood at the end of the corridor, watching from a safe distance. Dread settled in the pit of Faye’s stomach. Audience meant trouble.

Like a cockroach that just wouldn’t die, Ben laughed in Andy’s face. The blood and the crazed look in his eyes turned him into a maniac. “You still punch like a girl-”

The crowd gasped as the two grappled each other on the ground, fists poised to deliver punch after punch. Coward that he was, Ben’s friend fled the scene at the first sign of trouble. 

Andy was pure anger, but Ben was bigger and stronger, and he flipped Andy onto his back within seconds. Faye leapt in and tried to pry the giant off of Andy, but he shoved them away like they weighed nothing.

“Fuck you!” Andy yelled as he wrestled Ben’s fists away from his face, his arms straining from the effort. Just as he was about to feel the impact on his face, Ben jerked sideways from Faye’s swung bag.

Andy seized the chance and wriggled out from under Ben, and in a heroic fashion delivered a roundhouse kick to the side of Ben’s face. The latter barely reacted in time and blocked it with his arm, falling to the side with a strained groan.

“What’s happening here?!” A voice boomed, startling the three like they were deer in a headlight. Principal Flores stomped towards them. If looks could kill, they’d be vaporized.

“The three of you, my office.” She massaged her brows. She was exasperated aside from being angry, like she already had an inkling of what had transpired.

Faye picked up Andy’s bag from the floor and handed it to him, who mumbled a thanks mid-wince. Ben got up from the floor, flashing his bloodied teeth at the principal in an attempt to smile. “Prin-”

“NOW!” 

The three scurried past her towards the office.

────────

It wasn’t the first time Ben had been caught being transphobic, nor was it the first time Andy had gotten into ‘trouble’ simply for being trans. The principal knew that some punishment had to befall Ben, but his parents were also… very involved in the school’s running. Financially speaking.

Thirty minutes were spent in the office before a consensus was made. Ben was to attend detention for two weeks and to write an essay reflecting on his wrongdoings at the end of each. Andy was to be suspended for a day for starting the fight. Faye was left with five days of detention.

“At least she isn’t going to call our parents,” Faye sighed as they left the office with Andy, Ben having to stay behind to watch a student-made instruction video on respecting minorities. They caught a glimpse of the shabby production value before making their exit. 

“Yea.” Andy rubbed his nape. “Ma would’ve killed me. Guess I will just fake a headache and 'skip school'.” 

They walked slowly towards the main door, the hallways already devoid of life. The silence draped over them like a weighted blanket. 

“Thank you for standing up for me, by the way,” Andy said as soon as they crossed the threshold into the breezy summer evening. 

“No problem,” Faye shrugged. “Does that happen a lot?”

“Ben being a jerk or me beating his ass?”

“The first one,” Faye said. “He deserved the beating anyway.”

“That he does,” Andy snickered, but it immediately dissolved into a sigh. “Honestly? It’s usually passive shit like leaving me and Tom out of practice or not passing the ball to us. They never include us in group huddles but always make sure that we are in the center of the yearbook picture. They won't outright disrespect you as long as you 'stay in your lane’,” he did an air quote. “Which means no talking back, no showing them up, and no complaining about all the things I just said.”

Each sentence he spoke was punctuated by a hard stomp on the worn concrete. 

Faye debated patting his shoulder but decided against it. “I have to ask, why do you and Tom still stay if they treat you like this?”

Andy fidgeted with the strap on his orange sports bag. “Because we love basketball, man. And there aren’t many teams in Westchester, none that could get us to play under as much spotlight.” His face twitched. “And damn if I let those bastards ruin my dream.” 

“That’s courageous of you,” Faye said. They would’ve said that they were proud too had they not decided that it would be awkward. They hadn’t really spoken for the past five years, after all. 

They stopped near the bicycle stand, the one vehicle left being Faye’s black and white bike. “Well, I’m heading that way,” Andy pointed his thumb behind his head, in the opposite direction of Faye’s way home. He was about to bid farewell when they stopped him.

“Actually- do you wanna come over for a bit?”

Andy’s eyebrows shot up. “Come over… like to your house?”

“Yea.” They shrugged. “My parents are on a trip and I know a bit about haircutting. So maybe I can help with yours— if that’s what you want, of course. If you’re fine with it currently, then I won’t judge…”

Andy huffed loudly, shifting his weight from one foot to another. After a moment of contemplation, he nodded resolutely. “Yea, why not. You should’ve seen my ma’s face when I walked out of the toilet last night. She’d be glad I’m fixing it. And that I’m hanging out with you.”

He pulled his phone out and called home. After a short exchange in Mandarin, Andy handed it to Faye, still speaking in his mother tongue. 「我妈想跟你说话。」

Faye took the phone, bracing themself to speak in a language they were only half fluent in. 「哈啰Andy妈妈，我是Faye。」

A familiar voice cackled in their ear— a voice they hadn’t heard for years, they remembered. 「Faye! 你的普通话还是没有好起来吗?」

Andy hid his laugh behind a cough under Faye’s glare. 

They chatted a bit more— about what Faye had been up to (which wasn’t much, but they tried to make it sound interesting with unnecessary details), whether they were really hanging out with Andy again (they stuttered a bit and settled on '可能'), and ended with Faye promising to help him with his hair.

Andy was heavier so they decided to let him drive and let Faye sit hazardously on the bike rack. 

“New bike, nice!” Andy said and rode off into the main road. Faye held on with one arm around his waist, and decided not to tell him it was already a year old, bought when they had finally grown out of their childhood bike.

────────

Faye thanked themself from that morning for not leaving the room in too much of a mess. Posters of numerous bands filled up the walls, so much so that the original white paint was almost entirely hidden. Littered atop the waist-height cabinet were bottle caps, half-used threads and hastily cut fabrics, aftermath of their recent venture into making DIY accessories. Lime-colored fluorescent stars stuck stubbornly on the slanted ceiling. The two of them discarded their bags near the door and sat down on the fluffy rug, two bottles of coke opened between them.

"Well, how exactly did you cut your hair?" Faye asked.

Andy touched the back of his neck again. "Well… did you watch Big Hero 6?"

They raised a brow, nodding. 

The tip of his ears began to redden. "Huge fan of the movie here. I was trying to copy Hiro's hairstyle. Just grabbed a fistful of hair and cut. I stopped as soon as I reached this state."

Faye recalled the character's messy, unkempt hair, then tried to mentally compare it with Andy's bob. "I can soooooorta see your thought process?" Andy shoved them good-naturedly, and they laughed. "Okay, my bad. You did cut off quite a lot, but it's not unfixable. You're still trying for the same style right?" 

Andy nodded. 

To make things easier, they decided to get things done standing in the bathtub so the hair wouldn’t get all over the bathroom floor. After Andy got a Hello Kitty towel tugged around his collar, Faye got a pair of silver scissors and got to work.

After a few moments of silence except for the swishing of the blades, Andy spoke, “So… how did you learn to cut hair?” 

“By cutting my own.”

Andy swiveled around to look at Faye’s curtain bangs and undercut, making the latter turn his head back with their hands. “Stay still.”

“You’re pretty good at this,” He said. “Do you wanna be a hairstylist?” 

They laughed, “No. Probably not. I haven’t thought that far.”

Falling into another lapse of silence, Faye focused on shaping their old friend’s hair. 

Growing up, both of them wore long, black locks. Faye didn’t mind it until they did— their favorite characters on TV always had short hair, so it made sense that they eventually joined the club. Andy, on the other hand, had always preferred looking boyish. He seldom had his hair down, and his mom realized very early on that buying him anything too ‘girly’ was simply a waste of money. Faye had always admired how confident he was in his own style.

“How’s your mom doing?” They asked once their thoughts wandered to his parent.

“Fine. Hasn’t really changed much.”

Faye chewed on their lips. “Does she know…?”

Andy sighed, suddenly uncomfortable with just standing with his arms hanging by his sides. “She knows , but she doesn’t really understand. She knows I’ve always wanted to be a boy, but I think she still expects me to grow out of it. 

“She doesn’t stop me from changing myself,” He added after a pause. “She just doesn’t want me to… ‘draw too much attention’. You know her, she just wants us to fit in nicely without causing trouble.” 

Faye nodded to themself. There were only a handful of Asians in Westchester. Most people here had generations growing up in the same houses. Most people here were white. 

Andy sighed loudly. “She was mad when I cut my hair, you know. I walked out of the bathroom and tried to make a beeline to my room, but she caught me. She froze and wrenched the scissors from my hand. I think she was about to cry. She’s always loved braiding my hair.”

Faye’s hands faltered in the quiet that followed. They wanted to touch him and tell him it’s alright, but found no courage to do so. Finally, he gathered enough strength to continue. 

“She didn’t scold me for destroying it. Not even for making it look like this. She scolded me because she knew people at school were going to laugh at me.”

Shoulders slumped, Andy jammed his fists into his eyes to wipe them dry. “I get her, I really do. I just can’t help it. It felt so good cutting it all off, like I was gaining control over my body again and turning myself into who I was always meant to be. I felt so goddamn free.”

Faye left the scissors next to the sink as his torso jerked, and they held him in their arms. After a bit, Andy turned around and wrapped himself around them. They clung to each other, Andy’s hair half-cut, standing in the middle of the bathtub with clumps of hair surrounding their feet.

“If it’s anything, I think you’re cool as hell for just trying to change yourself, even if it didn’t turn out how you wanted it to,” Faye said. “Actually, I think you’re one of the coolest people at school.”

“Am I cooler than Ava?” 

They smiled. “You’re on the same level.”

Their damp shirt stuck to their skin as Andy drew back, a hint of a grin on his face. He wiped the rest of the tears off and turned back, signaling that they could continue the haircut.

“I’m serious though. You’ve always been so unabashedly yourself,” They gathered a few strands and sniped them. “Be it on the basketball court or just laughing with others in the corridors. Even today when you socked Ben into oblivion. I know we haven’t really talked, but… in the least creepy way possible, I've always been proud of you.” 

Andy let out a shuddering breath before responding. “I don’t know what to say except thank you, Faye. I have Tom to thank for that too. Without him, I wouldn’t even be half as brave as I am now. But it feels good coming from you. The trans community in Westchester is… well, you know.”

“Practically invisible?” 

“Yea. We exist but it’s not like we ever get together and support each other. Tom is the most understanding guy ever but even he fails to understand sometimes.”

With squinted eyes Faye finished fixing the bangs. “Your hair is very straight so you’re gonna have to curl it a bit to get the layered look. Come on.” 

The two left the tub and stood in front of the mirror. Andy’s mouth was ajar as he stared at his reanimated hair, now much better looking. For the final steps Faye pulled out a razor and got rid of the hair at his nape, grabbed a straightener to style the layers, and sprayed some hair gel to make sure it held.

"I love this, Faye." Andy said, taking in his new look. He felt excited looking at his own reflection. He reached to touch the scratchy patch of hair on his neck, somehow enjoying the texture. Or perhaps he was enjoying feeling what had happened to himself. 

"Good to know," Faye grinned, then clasped their hands behind their back. "What you said about Tom… I just want you to know that, if you ever need someone to talk to or a shoulder to lean on, I'll be here. Doesn't matter the time or place."

With a smile as bright as the sun, Andy pulled them into another bone crushing hug. "Thanks, Faye. You're one of the coolest people I know too."

────────

The sky had already gone dark by the time Andy finished exploring Faye's wardrobe, trying out the fishnet tops and baggy jeans so long he almost tripped walking from one end of the room to another. Faye shared some shops they got androgynous pieces from as well as online queer communities that they liked to linger on, and they laid on the bed talking about everything and nothing, making up for five years of lost time.

"Have you talked to the others? Like Stacy and Ava…" Faye asked, staring up at the stars on the ceiling. 

"I talk to Stacy and Dan sometimes whenever we have to share the court or see each other in the changing room. Had a few exchanges with Lucas, but he's so busy. Have you heard that he's taking five curricula at the same time?"

"He's always been an overachiever. I just hope he doesn't break." Faye replied. 

"Same. I also say hi to Ava and Lily but that's it. You?"

They fidgeted with the mattress, feeling a familiar sting in their ribs at the thought of old friends and lost connections. "Not really. I also talk to Ava and Lily sometimes but I don't really hang out with any of them anymore. Everyone's got their own lives going on. Everyone's moved on."

"Yea," Andy mumbled. Then he turned to Faye with a stern look. "I'm really glad we started talking again."

They looked back, "Me too. I really missed everyone."

"Who knows, maybe one day we'll come together again," His mouth curled into a smile. 

"I don't know if we can."

"Come on, we will!" Andy started shaking them the more they denied, until they finally cracked.

"Okay, fine. We'll all be friends again."

"That's what I like to hear," he wiggled his eyebrows. "Are you gonna show me your drumming skills now?"

────────

They probably would've talked till ten was it not for the house phone interrupting their conversation. It was Andy's mom, reminding him to go home soon. 

He helped get all his hair out of the bathtub and tossed it into the trashcan, sparing one last look at the black mass. 

"You gonna walk home alright?" Faye asked at the doorway, watching Andy put his sneakers on. 

"Of course. It's not too far from here, and these guys pack a punch," he fist bumped himself, then gave one last pat on their back. "Thanks for everything." After a short moment of hesitation, "Love you, Faye."

A warmth settled in their chest, rendering the nightly chill powerless around them. It took effort to still their voice. "Love you too, Andy."

Based on this image:

Eli approached from behind, his eyes already rolling. “You act like you’re new to living in a post-apocalyptic hellscape,” he muttered, then turned to Zoe. “I told you we should’ve brought Angel and left him back at Olympus.”

“But then I would have missed the castle!” Troy whined.

It wasn’t exactly a castle, and the estate perched at the top of the hill had clearly seen better days. Ivy clawed through its shattered stained-glass windows, and grimy marble tiles buckled beneath years of abandonment. But the old structure still held an air of majesty. If you closed your eyes, it would be easy to imagine a prince and princess, or perhaps a smug venture capitalist or two, descending the grand staircase in front of the towering oak doors.

“We can’t blame him for being excited,” Zoe offered, trying to keep the peace.

But Eli wasn't moved. “Yes, I can,” he shot back before she even finished.

Zoe gave them both a pointedly amused look. “Well, I can’t blame him... but we still have to stick together and stay quiet. Rules still apply.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Troy replied with a salacious grin, waggling his brows. “I love when you get bossy.”

Eli dragged a hand down his face. “Correction: I should’ve stayed back at Olympus.”

"Stop," Zoe laughed. "You would have missed us terribly!" Linking arms with both of them, she led them up the hill. “Come on, boys. “Let’s see if this place is as impressive on the inside as it is on the out.”

They were greeted with the thick scent of moss and damp wood - and it was quiet, too quiet, as if even the slightest creak might wake whatever ghosts still lingered within. There didn’t seem to be much left to find; the place had clearly been picked over. But that wasn’t going to stop them. They’d long since learned that sometimes a can of peaches or a sealed bottle of iodine could be hiding where you least expected it.

Zoe moved cautiously through the old ballroom, a blade strapped to her thigh, ready for whatever might come. But even as she kicked aside a chunk of fallen plaster, she was enchanted. “This place must’ve been something back in its day,” she whispered.

That’s when Troy popped his head out from behind an ornate cabinet, grinning like a child who’d just found where his parents hid the stash of Christmas gifts. “I found our new currency,” he beamed.

Eli didn’t even look up. “If it’s another scary porcelain doll, I swear to God...”

Troy ignored him and walked dramatically toward Zoe. “My lady,” he said with an exaggerated bow. Then he revealed it - an old, slightly tarnished crown. It still glittered softly despite its obvious age and several missing jewels.

“Wow,” Zoe blinked, taking it in.

“It might be real gold... the sapphires and rubies are probably fake, but it’s still a beauty.” Troy looked pleased with himself. “I found it in a busted display case. We can’t eat it, it can’t patch a roof or clean a wound, but you have to admit - it’s got style.”

Zoe took it from his hands; it was much heavier than expected.

“Who do you think it belonged to?” she asked.

“A fallen aristocrat,” Troy guessed. “The last of her line. She probably escaped to America after World War II. She was expected to marry well and keep the bloodline going, but ended up living out her days in quiet exile after the discovery of her scandalous affair with her stable boy.”

“You’re wrong on all counts,” Zoe declared. “It belonged to the fiercest queen in the land. She fearlessly defended her people before running off with not one but two lovers, then she built a new world from the burnt ashes.”

Troy raised a brow. “Huh. That story sounds oddly familiar.”

Zoe nudged him with her elbow. Then, without a hint of ceremony, Troy retrieved the crown and plopped it onto her head.

“It’s crooked,” she wailed.

“It’s perfect,” Troy smiled. “Just like you.”

Eli finally glanced over. Surprisingly, he didn’t have a sarcastic retort - just a soft glance with a hint of something warm in his eyes.

Zoe stood up straighter and assumed a commanding air, smoothing her grease-covered jeans as if they were a flowing silk ball gown. “I believe,” she said, spinning slowly, “that it is proper to bow before your queen before requesting a dance.”

Troy immediately dropped into a deep, absurd bow.

Eli was unamused. “We’re supposed to be scavenging.”

Zoe glared in his direction in mock horror. “Do you dare to deny your queen?” She circled him, her low tsk-tsk-tsks echoing off the cavernous walls. “Do you not remember the first time you danced with me, Lord Eli?”

“Barely,” he grumbled - but the small, involuntary smile that tugged at his lips was betraying his stony facade.

“It was right after we settled into the lodge,” she went on. “You barely knew me at the time. But you still danced with me.”

“Yep,” he muttered. “And I told you then what I’m telling you now – I knew better than to say no to you. You would have just kept pushing until I gave in.”

“Correct!” She beamed. “You were a smart man back then, but you’re denying me now?”

Troy stepped behind her, voice dripping with mischief. “Get him, Your Majesty! I’m sure we could find a dungeon and leave him here.”

Zoe stifled a laugh. “Duke Troy, I'm afraid you’d miss him terribly if we did."

Troy leaned his head on her shoulder, studying Eli in mock consideration. “I don't know," he said, rubbing his chin. "It depends on what kind of dungeon we’re talking about.”

“Oh, for Christ’s sake,” Eli grumbled. Knowing he was outnumbered and secretly wanting to play along, he stepped forward, giving the world’s most reluctant bow. “May I have this dance?”

“Your Majesty,” Zoe corrected, as Eli smirked.

“May I have this dance... Your Majesty,” he repeated.

“You may,” Zoe replied regally and took his hand.

They moved slowly through the dusty ballroom, workboots scuffing across the cracked tile. Troy started to hum some ridiculous waltz, and Eli shot him a look.

“If you keep that up, I’m stopping.”

Troy sauntered over, his hand resting on Eli’s before he pressed a kiss to his cheek. “You wouldn’t dare.”

Zoe chuckled while twirling into Eli's embrace. "Duk Troy? Do you care to cut in?”

“With pleasure,” he grinned, nudging Eli aside with theatrical flair. “I get a slow dance!”

"Yeah," Eli rubbed the back of his neck. “But I’m not humming for you.”

“Rude!”

Zoe winked at Troy, stopping the moment they waltzed in front of Eli. With a grin, she removed the crown and placed it on top of Eli’s head.

“What are you doing?” he asked, a touch of worry in his eyes.

“I – Queen Zoe – am crowning you King.”

“Oh yeah,” he chuckled. “King of what?”

“King of our hearts, of course,” she declared sweetly, her voice full of sincerity.

Troy barked out a laugh. “Now I have to dance with you, King Eli. I mean, you look hot as hell in that crown.”

“God help me,” Eli muttered, but he allowed it. “Again - just to shut you up.”

“Remember this, Queen Zoe!” Troy hollered as he twirled Eli around the room. “As long as we keep yapping, we can get this man to do anything we want!”

"Duly noted!" She grinned, placing a hand over her overflowing heart. She could have watched them all day - Eli stiff and grumbling, Troy obnoxious yet graceful. She couldn’t remember the last time she felt this much joy.

After allowing them to have their moment, she stepped in, falling into their eagerly awaiting arms. The three swayed together in the silence, and despite Eli’s usual reluctance, even he didn’t want to stop.

“You know,” she teased, “the ‘music’ stopped a while ago. But here we are - still holding on to each other.”

Eli placed a kiss on the top of her head, a warm smile on his lips. “We don’t need music for that.”

Troy kissed Zoe’s cheek, then leaned over and kissed Eli’s temple. She turned and kissed them both in turn, then closed her eyes and simply breathed, wishing to commit this precious moment to memory.

Eventually, Eli gently removed the crown and tucked it into his bag. “Come on,” he said. “As nice as this is, it’s going to get dark soon, and I want to get us home safely.”

He gave one last look inside a nearby cabinet and shook his head. “Not much of a haul today.”

Zoe stepped up beside him and laced her fingers through his. “I don’t know about that. I think this was one of our best finds yet.”

Troy slung an arm around both of them. “Yeah. Being here with the two of you today – it was worth more than a thousand cans of peaches.”

“And pineapples,” Zoe added with a smile.

“Hey – let’s not get ahead of ourselves,” Eli chuckled.

They walked through the long, faded corridor together as the sunlight quickly faded, making it back to the van just before dusk. Zoe gave the estate one last look over her shoulder.

“Let’s go, boys,” she smiled. “Olympus awaits.”

“Oh!” He jumped, then shivered a little at her surprise appearance. “This is Carson Belvidere, the Marquess of Montnapoli.”

She inclined her head toward him as she took a chair from the table behind them and sat down next to Max. “Lord Montnapoli. Nice to make your acquaintance.”

“Carson, this is—”

The Marquis stood quickly, interrupting his companion with a deep bow. “I know who she is. It’s my honor, Your Majesty.”

“No need for all that,” she waved her hand dismissively in the air, “But thank you. You’re very charming.” She looked back at Max with a twinkle in her eye. “And handsome.”

Max nodded with a grin as the red on his face deepened.

A smile spread across Carson’s face at the compliment. “Why, thank you, Your Majesty. You’re pretty stunning yourself.”

“Please. Just call me Riley. Any friend of Max’s is a friend of mine.”

“Is that so?” Carson watched her face, searching for clues about the exact nature of their relationship.

“That is so.” She ran a hand up Max’s arm as she held eye contact with blond haired blue eyed adonis sitting across from her.

“I can see you’re close.”

“Very close.” She leaned toward Carson while keeping her hand on Max and lowered her voice. “Would you like to find out how close?”

Carson lifted his drink to his lips as he responded carefully. “No offense, Your Majesty, I’m sure you’re amazing in every conceivable way, but I don’t swing that way.”

“Charming and diplomatic, I see.” Her eyes tracked across Max’s face, correctly reading his every emotion. She leaned over, putting her lips right at his ear. “So I assume you’ll be going solo this evening? Should I tell Liam not to expect you in our bed tonight?”

Max went beet red, his eyes jerking up to see if Carson could hear her. He couldn’t. “I…I’m not sure.”

Carson watched the exchange with interest. “I’m going to refill my drink and let you two talk. Anyone need anything?”

They both shook their heads no.

The moment he was out of hearing range, Riley asked, “You’re clearly attracted to him. What’s the problem?”

“Ah… I just haven’t been with another man since Liam and I became a thing, and I’m not sure what the rules are.”

Riley’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. “Liam knows you’re polyamorous, right?”

“Yes.”

“Has there ever been a discussion about exclusivity?”

“No, but I don’t want to do anything to mess it all up, and you know how he can be.”

“Hmmm.” She plucked the cherry out of the remains of Max’s amaretto sour and popped it into her mouth. “Maybe you should talk to him.”

“Maybe.”

The moment Carson returned to the table, Riley jumped up with a grin. “Well, you boys have fun tonight. I’ll get out of your way.”

Carson deposited a second drink in front of Max. “I got you one, anyway.”

“Ah, thanks.” Max glanced up at the man who was now standing next to him rather than sitting across from him. The proximity was anxiety producing, but not in a bad way.

“Everything okay?”

“Yeah…I….” Max decided to just blurt it out and get the elephant out of the room. “Look, Carson. I like you and I am absolutely attracted to you, but I’m in a… ah… situationship—”

“Is it exclusive?”

“I’m not sure.”

“Max, I like you too, but it doesn’t have to be serious.” He moved closer. Too close. He smirked at the flush that rushed across the other man’s face. Running a hand down the side of his face, he told him, “I would be more than happy to make you blush like that all night long and then return you to your…. Situationship.”

Carson strongly suspected he knew exactly what, or rather who, that situationship was with. He couldn’t blame Max. While women weren’t his cup of tea, he couldn’t deny that the king was right up his alley.

Liam Rys was handsome, intelligent, funny, and sexy as hell. He wasn’t sure what their arrangement was, but it wasn’t exactly a secret that Max practically lived in the royal suite. And then there had been the day that Liam had caught the two of them flirting and lost his mind.

Not that Carson could blame him. Max was a prize. Both the king and the queen seemed to recognize that.

Max glanced up and licked his lips nervously. “Noted.”

“Okay. Well, when you get your situationship straightened out, let me know.”

Across the grand ballroom, the king of Cordonia was brooding over his scotch and complaining to his best friend. “That guy is all over him. Again. Do you think Max is interested?”

Drake raised his eyebrows as he pulled his drink closer to him. “Does it matter?”

“Why wouldn’t it matter? Of course it matters!”

“Don’t you sleep with other people occasionally?”

“Yes, but—”

They were interrupted as Riley appeared at Liam’s side. “What are we talking about?”

Drake answered. “Liam is brooding over Max.”

“I’m not brooding!”

Riley looked him up and down as she took the seat next to him. “You’re brooding. Now tell me why.”

“I’m not—”

Once again, Drake answered for him. “Max is over there flirting with that Carson guy.”

“I know! I was just over there.”

“We saw,” Liam fixed her with a piercing stare. “What were they talking about?”

“Oh, Carson is totally hitting on Max!” A tinkling giggle escaped her.

“How can you laugh about this?” Liam demanded.

“What?” Riley lifted a shoulder. “He’s just having fun. Tell me you don’t think that guy is a threat to what we have with Max.”

“Maybe not to what you have with Max,” Liam grumbled, watching the liquid in his tumbler as he swirled it.

Riley made eye contact with Drake, who shrugged and shook his head. Returning her attention to her husband, she asked, “What do you mean?”

“I mean, your relationship with him is solid. But we both know if he was over there flirting with another woman, you’d be having a very different reaction.”

“Maybe. I’d like to think I’ve grown as a person, Liam. I thought we all had. Do you really think my connection to Max is stronger than yours?”

“Let’s face it, Riley, if he had to choose, he’d choose you and we all know it.”

Drake scoffed loudly as he leaned across the bar and signaled for another drink. “Looks who’s talking. Pot, meet kettle.”

Liam turned to him indignantly, “What do you mean by that?”

“If you had to choose, wouldn’t you choose her too?”

“I love Max just as much as I love Riley, and you know that.”

Conversation stopped as the bartender deposited a tumbler of whiskey in front of Drake, then quickly retreated.

Drake took a long sip as he contemplated his next words. Setting the glass down on the bar, he leveled a serious gaze at his best friend. “Maybe… or maybe you just don’t like being alone.”

Liam blinked. “What?”

“Do you love him like you love her, or is he just a placeholder?”

“I don’t know what you’re insinuating, but—”

“I’m insinuating that Max is your fallback position. Whenever Riley is with me, off on a long weekend with Rashad, or spending a night with Siobhan, you have Max. You aren’t used to having to grapple with feelings of jealousy or loneliness. You don’t have to confront any of that in yourself; therefore, you never have to work on any of it. Max is your crutch to avoid doing any emotional labor.”

Liam’s confusion and anger faltered a little as a half shocked, half amused smile made its way to his lips. “Did you just use the term emotional labor correctly?”

“He did.” Riley nudged Drake in the side with her elbow, beaming with pride. “Good job, Babe.”

The guardsman’s cheeks pinkened at the praise. “Thanks.”

Liam rolled his eyes as he threw back the last of his bourbon. Slamming his glass down on the bar, he turned back to Drake and insisted, “I don’t have any emotional labor to do. Max and I use Riley’s absences to spend one on one time with each other, that’s all.”

“Right.” Drake scoffed. “But that’s kind of my point. I think you’re using Max during those absences to avoid focusing on yourself. You’re never alone.”

“Not true, I go on extended trips without either of them all the time.”

“Oh, you mean like the time in Italy when Riley had to drop everything and rush to your side?”

“It was a long trip!”

“Or the time Max had to rearrange his entire schedule to accompany you to Sri Lanka?”

“I just thought he would enjoy seeing the peacocks in their native environment. I didn’t force him to—”

“What about the time you got so lonely in New York that you gave Nick the opportunity to snap that photo that nearly caused a hellacious scandal, and I had to go clean up the mess?”

“Oh, come on! That was not my fault and you know it!”

Drake raised an eyebrow as he lifted his glass to his lips. “And the time you tried to get Hana to go with you to Shanghai?”

“I mean, it is her home—”

“You two barely tolerate each other.”

Liam’s jaw clenched. “What’s your point?”

Drake shrugged. “You don’t do well alone. That’s all I’m saying.”

“And you do? I seem to remember you leaving all of us and running away to fucking Texas. Remember that?”

“I do. And I was alone, so I had to do a lot of soul searching. That didn’t end when I came back.”

“What do you mean?”

“When Riley is with one of you, I have no one but myself. Have you ever tried just being alone? Working on yourself? Having some platonic friends, or maybe a hobby?”

“I have lots of hobbies!”

“Name one hobby that you do because you love it. Not because it fits with your royal duties or lets you spend time with a partner.”

“Ballroom dancing!”

“I’m not saying you don’t like it, or you aren’t good at it, but you only started doing it because Riley wanted to.”

“Max and I go to all the pea fowl conventions—”

“Yeah, because Max loves it. You don’t care about birds.”

“Are you saying I don’t have a personality of my own?”

“That’s not what I’m saying. But you do tend to over focus on everyone else.”

“I am responsible for an entire country. I have to think about—”

“I know. But you put everyone else first in your personal life as well. ……. I think you’re just afraid to find out who Liam is without all the responsibilities.”

Riley cut in, “He’s not wrong.”

Liam turned to her with a look of betrayal. “You too?”

“I love you. Remember when we met?”

His face lit up. “How could I forget? Best thing that ever happened to me.”

“Yes, well, if you’ll remember, one of the things that drew you to me was the fact that you felt you could be your real self around me. Remember that?”

“Yes. And?”

“And I knew way back then that you put everyone ahead of yourself. Which is why I try so hard to take care of you.”

“I don’t just love you because you take care of me, although Leo does refer to you as my emotional support wife.”

“Your brother is hilarious, but Drake’s point is that you very rarely focus on yourself. So I’ll reiterate his question. Do you actually feel threatened by Carson, or are you bothered by the idea that there might be times when both Max and I are unavailable and you’ll be alone?”

Liam stared down into his glass. “Shit.”

An hour later, Liam was waiting when Max entered their private chambers.

“I got your text.” Max glanced around the room. “Where’s Riley?”

“She’s with Drake. I wanted to speak to you privately.”

Max was immediately on high alert. “Why? Is something wrong?”

“No. Well, maybe. I don’t know.”

Max’s voice filled with concern, “What is it? What’s wrong?”

Massaging his temples, Liam asked, “Max, do you manage my emotions?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, do you go out of your way to make sure you’re here for me when Riley isn’t around?”

Max weighed his words carefully. “I do make myself available when I know Riley isn’t going to be around, but it’s not just for you. I also miss her, and I enjoy my one on one time with you.”

“Stop hedging and answer my question. Do you go out of your way to rearrange your schedule because you’re afraid I’m going to spiral out if you don’t?”

“I don’t think you’re going to spiral out, Li. You just get…. Tense when she’s gone.”

“I—” It was true. Somewhere along the way, she had become his equilibrium. She calmed him just by being nearby. She anticipated his needs. While she infuriated and frustrated him more than any woman he’d ever known, she also excited him, soothed him, and challenged him like no other woman ever had.

In the same vein, Max had a way of knowing just what to say or do to bring him back to baseline when anxiety or anger threatened to take him under.

He heaved a great sigh as he stomped across the room to the drink cart. “God damn it! I don’t want to be an obligation!”

“You’re not!” Max protested. “Should I list all the things you do for us on a daily basis? Not to mention the whole ass country. You give and give and give. I want to be there for you when you need it because I love you.”

Liam’s left hand held a fresh glass while the other hovered over the cut crystal decanter. With another sigh, he set the glass back down. More alcohol was never the answer. He turned back to his lover while he pulled his tie off. “Maybe Drake is right, and I just don’t like being alone.”

“No one likes being alone.”

“You’re likely right. But being alone is still an important skill to master.”

“Okay…”

Liam sat down to remove his shoes. “What do you do when I’m not around? Like last month, when I was in Taiwan on a diplomatic mission and Riley spent a weekend away with Rashad. What did you do?”

 “I binge watched some shows I was behind on, updated my latest manuscript, did some clothes shopping, and went out with some friends to karaoke.”

“Was one of those friends Carson?” Liam’s tone was suddenly more intense.

Max’s tone was cautious. “If it were, would that be a problem?”

Liam struggled to answer. It wasn’t like he himself didn’t indulge in casual hookups when the mood struck. But what if Max’s feelings for Carson weren’t casual?

Max was in love with Riley, but that didn’t threaten him because he was also in love with her. The three of them were a throuple. A solid one, he thought. He hoped.

His shoulders fell with a sigh. “It’s fear.” He admitted. “I’m afraid you’ll develop feelings for him and fall out of love with me.”

“That’s not possible!”

Liam wanted to believe that. Intellectually, he knew he shouldn’t worry. Riley loved Drake, and that wasn’t a problem. Whatever her relationship with Rashad was, it didn’t impede her feelings for him. Plus, Max had always been polyamorous for as long as he’d known him. Max, in fact, was the person who had helped him understand his own poly leanings.

Max swiftly crossed the room and knelt in front of the other man. “I have never loved another man the way I love you. I am attracted to Carson, and I like him. I want to explore that connection, but I won’t if it’s going to damage our relationship, because nothing and no one means more to me than being with you.”

And that was the reassurance he needed. Relief surged through his body and soul. “Can I ask just one favor?”

“What’s that?”

“Do your exploring with Carson when I’m out of the country.”

Max’s face broke out in a grin. “That’s fair.”

“Is it?” Liam returned his grin with a begrudging one of his own. “I feel like Riley would say it’s controlling.”

“Probably. But it’s light years ahead of the controlling, overly jealous, possessive guy you were when we first started. Besides,” Max scooted closer, still on his knees, putting himself between Liam’s legs as he stared up at him. “I like it when you control me.”

A shiver ran down Liam’s spine as heat crawled through his chest. He sank his hand into Max’s hair and tugged him closer.

He was going to start working on himself a little more. Maybe start fencing again. Strengthen a few of his platonic friendships.

“Once upon a time, there lived a girl named Celesté in a small Kingdom of Cordonia.”

“Popsie, I hope this is not another animal story that you are trying to push on me.” Ryan warned Maxwell.

“No, no, no. Absolutely not.” Maxwell waved off. Maxwell knew he could not fool his son. The little guy already acted like a miniature teenager.

Ryan moved his hand through his dark brown hair like a pro and looked expectantly through his Beaumont grey eyes. “Celesté? Who was she? I never heard Papa say that name.”

“She was an important member at the Beaumont duchy, not at the palace. That is why your Papa doesn’t know much about her.”

Ryan turned to lie on his side and propped up his head on his palm supported by the elbow. “Tell me more.”

“So at our manor back in Cordonia, I grew up with your Uncle Bertrand. And you know how strict he is. In fact, no one can beat him in his collection of cutlery….”

“Popsie!” Ryan rolled his eyes. “ You were telling about Celesté!”

“Oh ya. Yes. Celesté joined us at the manor when I was young and boy, I fell in love with her the moment I first saw her.”

Ryan jumped up and stomped out of the room. Maxwell rushed behind him, clueless of what went wrong.

“Papa! Papa!” Ryan shouted.

“What's the matter?” his second father called out from his study taking quick steps towards the father and the son.

“I don’t know! Ryan, what’s wrong?” Maxwell inquired.

“You lied to me. You said it is no animal story.”

“Yes, There wasn’t any animal.” Maxwell assured looking at his son innocently.

“Papa, popsie said he fell in love with her at first sight. He says that only for his pets.”

Maxwell’s mouth was hung open. His son was a born detective. He had decoded the mystery of who Celesté was, even before Maxwell could reach the climax of the story. Was he taking secret training under some cunning Auvernal spy? He felt proud too at the same time.

“You lied Max, I know Celesté was your first peahen.” His partner too was now blaming him. Max had to defend himself right now.

“You knew? Wasn’t she a darling?” When he saw both of them staring at him, he reasoned. “So what? What’s wrong in a cute little animal tale?”

“I don’t like animal tales!” Ryan protested hugging his Papa.

“How can you not like animals? Popsie Max is an animal lover and papa Zeke is a vet. How could you hate them?”

Ezekiel who was quiet till now, spoke. “Max, you are being unreasonable now.”

“I am just giving him exposure to things around us. People he will see when we go back to our manor in Cordonia."

"Pets you mean." Ezekiel corrected.

"How does it make any difference?"

Ryan saw the argument turning to a phase of no return and boomed loudly, “Is anyone going to take me to bed?”

“Sorry Cherie, let’s go.” Ezekiel hugged him and walked him back.

Ryan settled down in his bed and Zeke started, “il était une fois…”

“ Papa, English please.”

“qu'est-ce qui ne va pas avec le français” Ezekiel questioned why not french.

Max who was watching it all standing at the door said, “See now you are being unreasonable, Zeke”

Ezekiel glared at Max. "Learning a foreign language is good. Aunt Kiara knows so many of them Ryan and you always want to be like her."

This time Max stood up to support Ryan, "But he is not interested. I tried to teach him a foreign language. He refused."

"We are talking about human language Max, not the cat language or the porcupines languages that you want him to learn.

Ryan rolled his eyes. He picked his favourite book from the shelves and lay down. He was soon lost in reading the book, oblivious to his arguing parents.

Max and Ezekiel realised that Ryan was quiet and turned to see him hiding his face behind a book about spaceships. They went across, each on one side of the bed. Ezekiel took away the book while Max held Ryan's hand.

Ezekiel placed the book on the shelf and they sat down beside the bed and looked fondly at their son. They both bent down to kiss Ryan. He smiled at them, happy to have their attention back.

"You know why Celeste was important, Ryan?" Max placed his palm along the side of Ryan's face.

Ryan frowned at the mention of the peahen again. But he knew it was important for his father so he gave back a questioning look.

Max exchanged a smile with Ezekiel and then looked back at their son. "She was the reason your popsie and your papa bonded first."

Ezekiel continued, "Yes, I remember when your popsie came to know that I am a vet, he invited me specially to the Beaumont manor to meet his pets. Celesté out of all other pets, stayed beside Max all the time."

Ezekiel asked Max, "She did really love you a lot, didn't she? Would have made me jealous, had she been around now."

Maxwell laughed and so did Ryan.

"I love Popsie the most. More than anyone." Ryan curled his little hands around Maxwell's broad biceps.

"And papa?" Ezekiel asked.

Ryan then stretched each one of his arms across both his father's neck pulling their faces to his cheeks. "I love you both!"

*****************

They did a little group hug and kissed each other. "We love you too Ryan!" Both the fathers said in unison.

Next part here

When they were done parading his body through the streets, the wagon returned to the gallows where three men had been publicly executed days earlier. The bodies still hung from the gibbet, swaying in the late afternoon wind.

“What do we do with the body?” The greencoat driving the wagon asked.

The sentry that took charge of the horses answered him. “Leave it in the wagon. Make sure it’s propped up so people can see. We’ll bury them all in the execution cemetery in two days time. Those are our orders.”

“Good,” the soldier huffed as he climbed down from the driver’s box. Jerking his head towards the gallows, he opined, “Those are starting to smell.”

The crowd slowly dispersed as the sun sank behind the horizon.

Late into the night when it was full dark and the streets were empty, when the lanterns and candles were put out and the town was fast asleep, a lone figure melted out of the darkness and pulled the body from the wagon. Working quickly and noiselessly, the figure strapped the body to one horse, then clambered onto the other and disappeared into the night.

Dawn’s light revealed an empty wagon where, the night before, a body had been.

Rumors quickly flew through the countryside that the Highway Man had risen from the dead and was seeking vengeance.

*****

Robert Gale stood in the shade of a great oak that sat in the backyard of the house he’d raised his daughter in and several hundred meters from The Crown and The Flame, the tavern that had provided for him and his family for the last thirty years.

He had no family left now and no one to provide for.

He stared down into the grave at the body he had just placed there and then wiped the sweat from his brow. He had to stop to catch his breath.

He was an old man now, not as hale and hearty as he used to be, and this was the second grave he’d dug in a week.

He’d known the raven rider was dead even before the greencoats started gloating about it all over the countryside.

A riderless horse had limped into stables, its leg injured, but not broken. Bullet wounds in its chest, but none fatal. A horse as dark as midnight. A horse that the stable boy Emile had identified as belonging to Midnight Jack.

“So, you knew? Everyone knew but me?” He’d demanded.

His anger had evaporated as Emile recoiled in fear. “I’m sorry, sir, but he swore me to silence and threatened my life if I told!”

“It was fear for your life that kept your lips closed then?”

Emile faltered. “I… liked him, sir. He was kind to me.”

Robert’s eyes narrowed, “Which was it then? Fear or loyalty?”

The stableboy gulped with wide eyes. “Both. And Harper…. She begged me not to tell.”

The old man softened. “Tell me what you knew about him and my daughter. Please.”

That had been two nights ago. He’d saddled his horse and ridden to the county seat, knowing the body would be there. It was standard practice to display hunted criminals to the public, to discourage others.

He might not agree with the life this man had led, but it had been clear that he and Harper loved each other. They had created a child together, and the three of them deserved to have eternal rest together.

He had just thrown the last shovelful of dirt onto the grave when he became aware of a figure approaching. He watched quietly as the man made his way to the makeshift graveyard under the great oak.

Guilt and regret were etched on every feature of Theo’s face.

The old man leaned heavily on the shovel with a sigh. “You know, I always thought of you as a son. Never had one of my own. I truly thought that someday you and Harper might—well, it doesn’t matter now, does it?”

Theo’s eyes darted from Robert to the two graves as his head shook from side to side. “That could still happen, perhaps, if she can find it in her heart to forgive me.”

“Non, son.” He gestured to the grave on the right. “There she lies, in the ground. She won’t be marrying anyone.”

Remorse, shame, and grief washed over the younger man. He dropped to his knees and buried his face in his hands. Sobs wracked his body. “I didn’t mean for this to happen. I never wanted Harper to get hurt! I thought I was protecting her from him!”

Roberts' eyes fluttered closed briefly as he remembered all the times he’d tried to push them together. “Why didn’t you come to me?”

“What?” Theo stopped sobbing and looked up.

“I’m her father. It’s my tavern. If you were so concerned, why didn’t you just come to me?”

“I….” he had no good answer because the truth was that he had wanted his competition to pay. Anger, jealousy, and insecurity had eaten away at him when he’d realized Harper loved another. And when he’d realized who… well, there was no way he could compete with a literal legend, so he’d done the only thing he could think of to remove him permanently.

The older man nodded in understanding. “You were angry at her. For loving him.” He pointed to the grave on the left.

Confusion washed across Theo’s face as his eyes tracked to the second grave. “Who’s that?”

“That’s the Raven Rider.”

Anger and disbelief coursed through him as he jumped to his feet. “Why did you bury him next to her? He's the reason she's dead!”

“Is that what you believe, son?”

“Yes! That’s the truth! If it wasn’t for him, she’d still be alive!”

“If it wasn’t for you, they’d all three be alive.” There was a tightness in Robert's voice that Theo had never heard before.

Confusion and curiosity overrode the first stirring of fear in his chest. “Three?”

“Yes. She was carrying my grandchild in her belly.”

“So, he defiled her as well as endangered her!”

“That’s enough!” he roared. “You will not speak of my daughter in that manner! She loved him, and he loved her, and you betrayed this family.”

The grieving father pulled a pistol from his waistband and raised it in the air.

Theo’s eyes widened as he finally realized the danger he was in. “Wait! Please! I never meant for Harper to get hurt! Can you find it in your heart to forgive me?”