Chapter 236: Chapter 236: Shower [Win-Win]

"Coward."

"That," Frederik said, "is objectively false."

Cecil looked as though he might have argued the point on principle alone, but the smug brilliance in his expression softened by a fraction as Frederik’s hand settled more firmly at his waist and then lower, his focus shifting from argument to the quieter practicalities neither of them ever found especially glamorous.

Cecil exhaled slowly, some of the sparkle in him giving way to that brief, involuntary tension that always came with the transition from Frederik being inside him to the emptiness he didn’t particularly like. His fingers caught once at Frederik’s sleeve; he still preferred not to be rushed through certain things, and especially not in sex.

Frederik noticed at once.

His expression did not change, but his hand stayed where it was, patient in the severe way only he could manage.

"Easy," he said quietly.

Cecil looked up at him from under dark lashes, silver eyes still bright with insolence even now. "You always say that as if I’m the one making this difficult."

"You are."

"That seems biased."

"You are intentionally squeezing me so the knot will keep longer."

Cecil let out a soft breath that might have been a laugh if it had not thinned at the edges. "You have terrible bedside manner."

"You will survive."

"Barely."

"You are impossible to impress."

"That," Cecil murmured, with recovering dignity and absolutely no sign of modesty, "has never stopped you from trying."

Frederik ignored the bait.

Or rather, he ignored it outwardly, which was the only form of victory either of them had ever agreed to count.

A moment later the last complication eased properly, and Cecil’s hand slid from Frederik’s sleeve to his wrist, lingering there just long enough to register relief before he let it go. Frederik shifted back enough to give him room, then reached automatically for the nearest discarded pieces of order, because somebody in this room had to reintroduce civilization before they returned to the Academy and destroyed what remained of the director’s afternoon.

Cecil, meanwhile, remained sprawled where he was with the composure of a prince and the moral seriousness of a delighted menace.

Frederik handed him his long coat.

Cecil accepted it, but only after taking his time about it and looking far too amused by the entire situation. "You are being very efficient for a man who was just threatening me with a glare."

"I am preventing further damage."

"To me?"

"To the schedule."

Cecil draped the coat around himself with lazy elegance and said, "You have no romance in you at all."

Frederik gave him a flat look. "You delayed an imperial visit to prove a point."

"I delayed it to improve my mood."

"You did that."

"Yes," Cecil said. "You’re welcome."

Frederik bent to retrieve the rest of the clothing from the floor, his own patience hanging on by skill and ancestry alone. "Shower."

Cecil did not move.

Frederik straightened slowly.

The prince lifted one brow, coat still only hanging from his shoulders, hair disordered, mouth curved in a way that suggested he knew exactly how intolerable he looked and had no intention of correcting it quickly.

"Is that a concern?" Cecil asked.

"It is triage."

"How cold."

"It is necessary."

Cecil rose at last, tying the coat just enough to preserve the illusion of cooperation, then crossed toward the bathing room with unhurried grace that made even simple movement feel like provocation. At the threshold, he turned and leaned one shoulder against the frame.

"You could come with me."

"No."

"You didn’t even think about it."

"I did."

"And?"

"I rejected it immediately."

Cecil’s expression went theatrically wounded. "You’re hurting my feelings."

"You don’t have feelings."

"That is a vicious thing to say to a man fresh from devotion."

Frederik reached for his comm. "Go shower."

Cecil watched him for a beat, then smiled again, slower now, all wicked satisfaction and private confidence. "You’re only refusing because you know exactly what would happen."

Frederik opened the secure line without looking up. "Yes."

"So you admit there was temptation."

"I admit there was a threat."

Cecil laughed under his breath and disappeared into the bathing room at last, leaving the door open just enough to prove that shame had never once entered the equation for him.

A second later the sound of running water filled the suite.

Frederik stood still for one brief moment, garment case not yet requested, comm in hand, and exhaled once through his nose.

Then he spoke.

"I need the spare formal sets from the rear compartment of the second car," he said to the Shadow who answered. "Exact match. Mine and his."

No pause worth noting.

The Shadows had long ago developed the instinct not to ask questions when imperial heirs, ducal children, and rescheduled institutions intersected behind closed doors.

"It will be brought up immediately."

"Six minutes," Frederik said. "Not sooner."

"Yes."

He ended the call.

From the bathing room, Cecil’s voice drifted out through steam and running water, perfectly clear and entirely too pleased with himself.

"You requested both sets?"

Frederik bent to gather the last pieces of their discarded clothes. "Yes."

"That suggests foresight." 𝓯𝙧𝓮𝓮𝒘𝓮𝙗𝙣𝒐𝒗𝒆𝓵.𝓬𝓸𝒎

"That suggests experience."

"With me?"

"With disaster."

Cecil hummed, unconvinced by the distinction. "That feels unnecessarily hurtful."

Frederik set the ruined order of the room into something more manageable and replied, "You’ll live."

"That depends. Are you absolutely certain you don’t want to join me?"

"No."

"Not even for efficiency?"

"Cecil, if I get into the shower, you won’t let me leave for hours. Let’s not forget who you are. And if we do not complete the schedule for today, you can explain that personally to Gabriel."

There was a pause from the shower.

Then, with deep offense and no actual shame, Cecil mumbled, "Tyrant."

Frederik, who had been called worse by people with less accuracy, did not bother answering.

A moment later the water shut off.

That alone felt like proof of either personal growth or strategic surrender, and Frederik was not naïve enough to assume it was the first.

He had just finished setting the garment case on the chair near the mirror when Cecil emerged from the bathing room wrapped in steam, fresh heat, and a dark robe. His hair was damp, his expression restored to something dangerously calm, and the smugness had not left him.

"You used Gabriel as a threat."

"I used Gabriel as reality."

Cecil gave him a look that, from anyone else, might have meant irritation. From him it mostly meant admiration he would rather choke on than state aloud. "You are becoming crueler."

Frederik opened the garment case. "I was raised by Gregoris and Rafael. This is moderation."

"That is a very concerning sentence."

"It’s also true."

He handed Cecil his fresh shirt without looking at him again, then reached for his own clothes. "Ten minutes."