Chapter Text
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day 1 : fantasy
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Tine stumbles upon the castle quite by accident when he’s dog-sitting his friend’s raucous Chihuahua, one that doesn’t seem to understand any command that involves sitting. Or lying down for an extended period of time without demanding to be entertained. That's why they’re at the park, instead of hanging out somewhere less hot. It’s about time they leave, since he’s meeting up with Pear later to help her with an assignment, but he’d thrown Charlotte's ball too hard and the tiny dog bounded after it enthusiastically, disappearing behind a curtain of ivy at the edge of the park and is still currently missing. He follows her excited yaps only to find a crumbling behemoth of a building, looming above him like a disapproving giant, and he wonders how he's never seen it before. Since, you know, it's huge. And creepy.
He kicks a stray piece of brick and the castle looms even more disapprovingly than ever, if that’s even possible.
Charlotte yaps again, wagging her tail and scrabbling up a flight of stairs, much to Tine's exasperation. "Come back— No, don't go there! Wait!"
This isn't something he'd signed up for. They're supposed to be back in fifteen minutes, supposed to be a quick exercise for Charlotte and then he’s off to see Pear, who is pretty and smells nice and laughs at his jokes. But now here he is. Stalking around an abandoned relic. Like Indiana Jones. He would feel more badass if he has a cowboy hat and a bullwhip though. Instead of an unruly dog… that seems to have found some sort of a hidden chamber in a creepy, hidden castle that shouldn’t even fit the topography of a park in the middle of Bangkok.
Great.
The chamber holds rotting furniture and an assortment of banners hanging on its wall, mold rendering them ugly and unreadable. Tine pauses when he notices the large four-poster bed in the middle of the chamber and this begins to feel like the first five minutes of a horror movie. He's pretty sure that means he's going to be subjected to some kind of a gruesome death just to get the plot going. Tine likes living, thank you very much, so he's going to go. Now. But not without the dog.
He eventually finds her sitting on her haunches at the foot of the back, her muzzle pulled back into the canine equivalent of a grin. She doesn't look like she's about to go Cujo on his ass, so he carefully inches towards her. There are cobwebs and shredded pieces of silk hanging from the vertical columns of the bed, solemn grey like a congregation of ghosts. He's only a few feet away when he notices the vague outline of a human shape lying on the bed and his brain just hits the panic button.
Corpse! Holy shit that's a corpse!
Tine rears back in surprise, Charlotte barks and darts towards him, tangling between his legs. He doesn't really know what happened, but he pitches forward, gravity laughing at him and he finds himself crashing onto the bed. Right on top of the corpse-shape.
Tine would've screamed but his mouth is kind of pressed tightly against something soft and warm and—
—alive.
He opens his eyes to stare straight at the face of a young man, right about his age. Who has his eyes closed, dark crescents of eyelashes fluttering over pale cheeks. And his bow-shaped lips are squished underneath Tine's. Tine scrambles off the bed at once and onto the floor, Charlotte immediately twining herself around him with a plaintive whine. Nothing happens for the next few seconds and Tine is too busy trying to convince his legs to move so that he can get the hell out of dodge when he hears a creak from the bed.
He can physically feel his heart crawling up his throat.
Tine looks up to find the not-corpse-but-maybe-a-zombie staring down at him. Before Tine can scream for real because what the fuck is happening oh god, he says, "So you’re it?"
Tine stares. The frantic hive inside his brain stutters to a stop. "What."
“The one who kissed me and broke the spell?" He pushes back an unruly spill of dark hair from his face as he looks at Tine, brows creasing into a frown. "You are him, yes?"
"What. No!" Tine wobbles to his feet, takes a step back and squints at the guy. He doesn't look dead, far from it actually. Would've been cute (even though Tine’s cuter, of course) if it isn't for the obvious fact that he's batshit crazy. "Look, man—"
"Your highness," he interjects mildly.
Tine rolls his eyes. "Whatever. Look. I don't know what kind of weird sex games you're involved in, but you shouldn't be lying in a moldy bed alone in a place like this."
The frown deepens. There’s also a touch of bewilderment there. Tine thinks, tough luck, bro. That's what you get for doing weird shit in a weird ass castle. "But—"
"I have to go." Tine gathers Charlotte in his arms, making sure to hold her hard enough just in case she gets free again and lands him in another world of trouble. He hesitates for a second, before adding, "Sorry for kissing you though."
The guy's face scrunches and his voice turns accusatory. "So you did kiss me!"
Tine takes a step back. "It was an accident!"
He lurches out of bed, bare feet stumbling like a newborn colt. Reacting on pure instinct (and because he’s too nice for his own good), Tine drops the dog and rushes forward to catch the guy in his arms. He frowns when he realises how light the guy is underneath the layers of ridiculous silk he's wearing. The guy clutches onto him, fingers digging mercilessly into Tine’s arms.
"It’s you,” he grinds out, spitting the words like he can’t quite believe them. Tine doesn’t want to believe them either, if you ask him. He just wants to go home and pretend none of this is happening. The grip on his arms tightens. “You’re my prince charming?”
Tine's head goes, oh hell.
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