So what? So what if Trystan picked the throne that betrayed him over him. So what if Trystan felt it was the right decision, he should’ve seen this coming a mile away. A pretty face and nice body is all Trystan was good for anyways. His detective work needed help, he was helpless, he weighed him down and made his life worse Charlie tried to reason with himself.

He breathes out heavily glancing at his phone that chimes insistently.

Ruby: Hi Charlie, I know you’re not okay. If you need anything please reach out. I feel like we're good friends now so I can say this and it is not weird. I care about you deeply. Luke and I will be here when or if you’re ready.

Marguerite: Charlie please come back to Drakovia. I can’t stand to see the way this is tearing you and my brother apart. You BELONG together. Please just let me know if you need help getting back into the country.

He laughs bitterly. Belongs together, my ass, he reads bitterly. He tosses his phone over his shoulder not wanting to waste his mental capacity reading mind numbing text he won’t reply to. He appreciates their concern, but he’s a lone wolf at the end of the day, he works, lives, and breathes on his own - he doesn’t need other people ruining his flow for no good reason. He doesn’t need a repeat of Trystan. He throws back a shot reaching for another bottle of whiskey, his current one having now been long downed.

He couldn’t care about the consequences or the stern talking to Tommy will give him in the morning. Tommy would understand, he rationalizes to himself, true or not. His chest felt like liquid fire, a burning sensation coating every muscle and fiber inside him. He downs the shot he just poured trying to rationalize in his head everything that happened tonight. A grimace passes his features, sucking down another shot. He couldn’t figure out how many he had at this point, one? Ten? Fifteen?

As he slams the shot glass against the table top he hears the creak of the door, instantly jumping to his feet pulling the taser from his waist hoisting it to aim at the shadow looking at him.

“Charlie?”

He softens for a split second hearing the tone of the shadow’s voice, his shoulders relaxing with comfort. He lowers the taser, his resolution toughening, squaring his shoulders. He clears his throat, setting the taser on the table, feeling nearly defiant or threatening towards one of the few men he’s ever truly loved. Love. He laughs to himself with a sigh shaking his head to himself. He falls into his chair ignoring Trystan’s presence, pouring himself another shot. He fills one of his empty shot glasses with a shot for his lover, the word once felt fulfilling and tantalizing now makes his chest feel devoid of emotion.

“Shot?” His voice was heavy with drunkenness.

“Sure,” He swallows heavily, his eyes traveling over Charlie’s form. He takes a moment to fall into the seat across from Charlie, drinking in the sight of his lover. His heart sinking deep into his chest, he feels it could fall out of his body as they speak. He forces a smile, the one that used to make Charlie melt and agree to whatever nonsense Trystan was about to rope him into. “You still look hot, jet lagged and all.”

“Ha.” Charlie replies sarcastically, “You look terrible.”

“Charlie…”

“Stop. Now.” Charlie brings his shot glass to his lips, his eyes intently staring at Trystan’s before swallowing down the drink with resentment. He coughs deep from within his chest, breathing out a deep breath before dropping the shot glass carelessly onto the table without much thought. He lets his head fall back with exhaustion, dragging in a deep breath before exhaling trying to calm himself down. “What are you doing here Trystan?”

“You’ve been drinking tonight, haven’t you?” Trystan asks with care.

Charlie laughs. And laughs. And laughs. “What did you expect?”

“I don’t know.” He answers honestly, “You to stay in Drakovia with me.”

He snorts. “Give up my career for you to play king in a country that hates you, with family that betrays you and treats you like shit and not to mention tried to frame you for murder twice, for a crown you don’t even fucking want to wear. And that tried to poison me. Hard pass.”

“You don’t understand everything about me and my family, you of all people should know family is… difficult.” Trystan replies, he sighs resting his hand against his forehead. “I have an obligation to myself and to my country.”

“As if that’s ever stopped you before.” Charlie replies, “You ever stopped to care about your country the four years you ran away from home to prance around the world being an entitled dickwad?”

“It wasn’t like that and you know it, Charlie.” Trystan sighs, “I didn’t come here to fight with you.”

“You came here to beg me to come to Drakovia, it’s a wonderful country. You’ll love it. You can be a king with me. We can live happily ever after. Grow the fuck up Trystan. Happily ever after doesn’t fucking exist and you know it. You wasted your time coming here. Call Margurite, get your private jet ready, and go the fuck home.”

Trystan tries to hide the hurt that ripples across his features, his caring smile now a thin line of regret. He wanted to conclude that he shouldn’t have come. He knew Charlie wouldn’t give up the life he lives and he knew Charlie would be brutal; despite it all it’s one of the things he loves most about Charlie. He still can’t force himself to truly, fully regret coming. He wants more than anything to take away the hurt and pain in Charlie’s chest knowing he caused it and there would be no easy way to fix it between them.

He reaches out his hand taking Charlie’s, seeing a flash of pain and love crossing Charlie’s handsome features, making his heartache fiercely in his chest. His finger soothes back and forth against smooth skin, trying to lull him into calming down. Charlie fights to hold back tears, his body on the verge of shaking with sobs he refuses to let out of his bloodshot misty eyes watching Trystan cautiously.

Charlie fights himself to pull away from the comforting warmth of Trystan’s touch. He has flashbacks to the night he left, watching Trystan pull away and detach himself from him. The curves of his body and his firm abs under his fingers as he longingly tries to capture the feeling of heat rushing through his body. His heart burns in his chest, the ache that felt as horrendous earlier felt even worse now with the love of his life holding him. He wants to kiss his stupid face, hold him in his arms, deck him, cry, anything really. Anything to let out the feelings corrupting his brain, burying his heart in a pit of darkness.

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize.” Trystan whispers, letting himself move closer to Charlie, remaining a safe distance away to not overwhelm his lover. His fingers tighten around Charlie’s hand to help him steady himself, watching the way his chest rises and falls. “I’m sorry too.”

“I just don’t understand why.” Charlie whispers. “We’re partners. We have a crew. A home. Our home. Our lives.”

Trystan’s heart shudders in his chest, thinking of his apartment building decked out memories of their time together. Their love and life. He moves to sit beside Charlie, reaching out with his free hand to cup his lover’s cheek with a sad smile. His fingers are warm against his skin, he wants to remember this feeling until he dies. The warmth that radiates off skin and the way that despite himself, Charlie still nuzzles against his hand like he always has.

“I love you, you know that. It’s not easy for me to let go of everything we made.”

“Love isn’t enough. I can’t move with you.” Charlie sighs. “I have Tommy. The team. A life here. A life that you promised to be in forever. It’s not fair of you to ask me to give up everything..and it’s even less fair of me to ask you to do the same.”

“We can move the crew to Drakovia, start it up here. And Tommy would love it here, we can get him a pub, decorate it the way he wants.” Trystan grins, his mind booming with ideas of a handful of American’s in a sea of Drakovia citizens. “It would be life changing for all of us.”

“No.” Charlie sighs shaking his head, “This building means something. You can’t just take the Drunk Tank to Drakovia for the fun of it. And our team has roots here, Mafalda has a family. Luke has family. Ruby does. It’s not that simple.”

Trystan shakes his head standing in front of Charlie, his hands cupping the detective’s cheeks forcing him to look him in the eyes. His finger dragging along Charlie’s lower lip, toying with his lips trying to force them upwards into a smile. Charlie can’t help the melting of his anger, his heart yearning to drop everything for Trystan knowing it's unfeasible. He casts his eyes downwards forcing himself to look away from the intensity of Trystan’s gaze.

“It’s that simple for us.” Trystan whispers, letting his face come closer to Charlie’s, feeling one another’s breath on each other’s cool skin in the air conditioned bar fighting off the New York heat. “Picking us is always easy. Come with me. Run away from this. Enjoy the finer things of life. We can make memories, have a family, and find ourselves. And have so much sex.”

They both laugh sadly at his words.

“I can’t leave my dad behind Trystan.”

“You’re not leaving him.” Trystan quickly replies, “We can solve it from Drakovia. And you can visit New York whenever you want. We have jets, money, and our entire lives to figure everything out.”

“I’m sorry.” He shakes his head no. His hands tightening around Trystan’s, the prince’s grip tightening back as tears fill his eyes. He knew deep down Charlie would say no, but everything inside him screamed that maybe he wouldn’t, that he’d give them a chance. He brings his lips to Charlie’s, taking his breath away as they both meld into one another. Hands moving to grip onto each other tighter, Trystan’s arms strongly bracing the both of them against the table.

Gasping for breath, Charlie breaks their heated kisses. He doesn’t want to stop. He wants to feel Trystan’s body against his fingertips and his lips until he dies. He wants the last thing he ever tastes to be the prince’s lips, the last smell he ever smells to be Trystan’s colonge. He draws his fingers down Trystan’s chest, his fingers brushing under the fabric of his signature black button up shirt, the buttons popping open with each movement. He moves his lips to Trystan’s chin, kissing and sucking the sensitive skin. Delighting in each moan that Trystan lets out.

His teeth nip sweetly at the prince’s pulse point, soothing over the skin with his tongue. His saliva warms against Trystan’s cool skin, his teeth prod and poke at the flesh, Trystan’s moans filling the bar with country music dancing in their ears.

“So this is it then?” Charlie whispers against his skin, almost too silent for the both of them to hear. His lips find purchase against Trystan’s collarbone making him moan out loudly, his hands tightening in Charlie’s hair. “We’re done then?”

“I guess so.” Trystan replies, breathing out heavily as the detective continues to pepper kisses against his skin. He wants to say more, his mind heavy with lust blinded by his desire and the hurt in his chest unable to fully form into words. He breathes out heavily as Charlie pulls away from him looking at him. Eyes that once burned with hatred, now overflow with love as they both hesitate to say anything to officially end it.

“I love you Trystan Throne.” He whispers softly. Charlie kisses him sweetly one last time on the lips, short and sweet. The feeling went away all too soon. “I’m sorry, but this is my home. And I can’t leave until I figure out what happened to my dad.”

“I understand. You can’t run away like I did.” He nods understandingly, “I love you Charlie Rose.”

He sighs heavily.

“Goodbye Trystan Thorne.”

“Goodbye Charlie Rose.”

Trystan takes one last glance at his lover before turning to leave the bar. His heart heavy in his chest, burning to soothe the ache. Leave his family and throne behind for the one man who ever loved him, saw him for who he was, believed in him, made him his partner. His whole world is sitting in this bar about to drink himself to death. He pushes open the door looking back to see Charlie one last time before accepting their fate. He hesitates… his hand holding the door finding Charlie’s eyes in the darkness, the both unable to move knowing they were each other’s forever.

Could they really let each other go?

Could he live with himself after walking out on another lover?

Could he find true happiness with a crown atop his head and his family breathing down his neck pulling him in every direction?