Ivar's breath hitched the moment Dante's voice dropped into that low, wrecked tone.
"Aahh… yes, just like that."
"Shusss," Ivar muttered, the sound barely registering as a real command. One hand slipped under the back of Dante's shirt, palm spreading warm against the damp line of his spine.
Heat radiated off Dante's skin in waves. The interior of the car already smelled thick—cologne, sweat, the faint leather of the seats, and the sharper, saltier edge of sex. The space felt ridiculously tight, every shift of their bodies making the suspension creak.
Dante's mouth crashed against his. He bit Ivar's bottom lip hard enough to sting, a small, possessive action that betrayed how little control he still had. "You're so maddening," he groaned against Ivar's mouth, the words vibrating between them.
Ivar's hands slid lower, gripping Dante's waist with fingers that left pale impressions. His breath came in jagged intervals. He moved with an urgency that bordered on anger— angry at the weeks of distance, angry at how easily Dante undid him.
He bit down on Dante's shoulder, teeth scraping skin, leaving a wet, stinging mark. The taste of salt bloomed on his tongue.
"You drive me crazy," Ivar muttered against Dante's neck. "Absolutely crazy."
He thrust harder making the car rocked on its suspension with every push. Dante's body clenched around him, tight and hot and impossibly perfect.
Ivar's hands locked on Dante's hips, fingers digging into soft flesh. The friction was brutal and perfect— slick heat, the creak of the driver's seat under their combined weight.
"Fuck, babe… you really turn me on," Ivar hissed through gritted teeth. "You missed this, didn't you?"
"Yes—fuck yes I did… more— " Dante's voice cracked. He buried his face against Ivar's shoulder, breath hot and damp. "Ngh… fuck me harder, please— haa— "
"You're so loud," Ivar panted, the words thick with pleasure he could no longer hide. The risk of being caught only sharpened everything. "God, if someone pulls up to this car right now…"
He didn't stop. His rhythm turned frantic, less controlled, hips snapping up with desperate strength.
The seat groaned loudly beneath them. Sweat slid down the valley of Dante's spine, Ivar's hands followed it, gripping harder.
"You know what?" Ivar gasped, voice cracking. He grabbed Dante's jaw and dragged him into another kiss— messy, open-mouthed, all tongue and teeth and shared breath. Dante tasted like salt and heat and the faint sweetness of whatever he'd been drinking earlier. "You're the only one who can make me feel like this."
He drove deeper and Dante cried out against his mouth, body shuddering with every thrust.
"Haaa… Ivar—fuck— " Each movement sent visible shivers through Dante's frame. "Yes—god, yes, baby— hngh— it feels good, it feels so fucking good— "
"You're so pretty when you're like this," Ivar said, the words slipping free before he could stop them. His own orgasm coiled tight at the base of his spine. "Tell me you love me."
"You crazy bastard," Dante whispered, voice broken, barely audible over the wet slap of skin and the creaking seat. "I love you. You know I love you so much."
"I love you too, babe." Ivar's grin was feral. "Stay like that." His hands tightened bruisingly on Dante's hips. "Wanna cum together?"
His breath turned short and pathetic. The heat, the friction, the way Dante clung to him—everything narrowed to that single point of contact.
Ivar's back arched. A low, guttural sound tore from both their throats as they broke at the same time.
Pleasure ripped through him in hot pulses, he felt Dante's body seize and flutter around him, milking every last drop.
Ivar grabbed Dante's hand and pressed a trembling kiss to the knuckles, eyes squeezed shut. "God… Dante…"
He collapsed backward against the seat. For a long minute the only sounds inside the car were their ragged breathing and the soft ticking of the cooling engine. The air was thick with the smell of sex and sweat.
Dante stayed draped over him, face buried in the crook of Ivar's neck, chest still heaving. "You okay?"
Ivar laughed, the sound rough and scratchy. "I missed you, bunbun." He turned his head toward the window, a lazy, satisfied smile tugging at his mouth. "Heh. Kashi is going to be pissed when she finds out we just fucked in her favourite car."
Voices drifted from somewhere beyond the driveway.
"Where is His Highness? I thought he arrived with the Young Miss."
"I don't know. We've all been waiting for quite a while now."
Dante and Ivar froze. Their eyes met, then both men scrambled.
Buttons. Belts. Fabric dragged hastily back into place. By the time they climbed out of the car, Ivar had managed to look mostly presentable—except for the jacket, which had lost the battle completely.
He eyed the crumpled garment, then simply shrugged it off and left it behind. Problem solved.
Dante's hand slipped into his as they headed toward the mansion.
Ivar had arrived earlier with Kashi. He had simply failed to make it inside. The moment he saw Dante, several days, weeks, and months of separation had become somebody else's problem. He had dragged his bunbun straight back into the car without a second thought.
They crossed the fountain courtyard. Staff lined both sides of the entrance. The moment Ivar approached, heads lowered in unison.
"Welcome, Your Highness."
Ivar offered an easy smile. Beside him, Dante looked far too composed for a man who had just committed crimes against Kashi's upholstery.
The doors opened. Grandfather James and Kashi stood inside. Frank and several members of staff lined the hall.
"Welcome, Your Highness."
Ivar crossed toward Frank and handed over the ruined jacket without comment.
"I hope your flight wasn't stressful, Your Highness."
"Hello, Mr. Frank. Always a pleasure to see you."
Frank inclined his head. "Your Highness." He stepped aside.
Ivar walked further into the mansion with Dante beside him. Grandfather James was already coming towards them. The old man's stern expression lasted approximately three seconds.
Ivar grinned. "Grandpaaaa!"
"Oh, come here, you useless child." James struck the floor once with his cane.
Ivar laughed and crossed the remaining distance, wrapping both arms around him.
James embraced him just as tightly. "My boy."
"I missed you too."
James pulled back and looked him over. "You look well."
"I always look well."
"Yes. Unfortunately, nobody taught you humility."
Ivar grinned wider.
To the rest of the world, Ivar Giaever was His Royal Highness, Crown Prince of the Giaever Country.
The King's only son and future ruler. A man people bowed to before he had even opened his mouth.
To the Saints family, unfortunately for him—
He was simply Ivar.
The King was the elder brother of Kashi's late mother, making Ivar and Kashi cousins through her mother's side. The Giaever and Saints families had remained close long after her death, less like two powerful houses maintaining an alliance and more like one obscenely wealthy, deeply dysfunctional family separated by borders and royal protocol.
Grandfather James had known Ivar since he was small enough to run through the Saints mansion without trousers.
Royalty meant very little to a man who remembered changing the Crown Prince's nappies.
Which was why, outside these walls, people lowered their heads when Ivar Giaever entered a room.
Inside them—
"You damn brat!" James smacked his arm. "How dare you not visit me?"
"OW! Grandfather!" Ivar recoiled, clutching his arm. "What was that for? I have responsibilities!"
"You have a father." James frowned. "Let him do them."
Ivar stared at him. "He's the King."
"Exactly. Sounds employed to me."
Kashi barked out a laugh.
Ivar swung towards her. "Why are you laughing? Help me!"
James smacked him again. "Quit shouting in my house."
"You're assaulting the Crown Prince!" Ivar looked around, scandalised. "Does nobody see this?"
Every member of staff immediately found somewhere else to look. Kashi folded in half. Dante turned his face away. Even Frank suddenly found something fascinating about Ivar's jacket.
James looked thoroughly satisfied. "Crown Prince," he muttered. "Nonsense."
Ivar pointed at him. "This family is abusive."
"You came back voluntarily," Kashi said.
James chuckled and pulled Ivar into another brief embrace, patting his back. "It's good to have you home, boy."
For half a second, Ivar's theatrics disappeared. "Good to be back, Grandfather James."
James released him. Kashi's attention shifted to Dante. Why had they taken so long?
Dante caught her staring.
A beat passed between them and his hand moved to the back of his neck and rubbed once.
Kashi's eyes moved to Ivar, back to Dante, then very slowly, towards the driveway.
You perverted bastards.
Her face remained perfectly pleasant.
My precious baby. Her gaze settled on Ivar. I'm going to murder royalty today.
Lunch was served shortly afterwards in the family dining room.
The table was long enough to host a diplomatic summit, although Grandfather James had everyone seated close enough that nobody could successfully avoid conversation.
Ivar sat opposite Kashi. Dante sat beside him. James occupied the head of the table while Frank moved quietly between the staff as dishes were served. The first course had barely arrived before James started again.
"How long are you staying?"
Ivar reached for the bread. "A few days." James's fork stopped. Ivar slowly returned the bread to the basket. "A week?"
James raised a brow.
"Two?"
"Are you negotiating your visit with me?"
"I'm trying to survive lunch."
Dante kept eating and Kashi nearly inhaled her drink.
James stared at Ivar as though he had announced plans to rob the family vault. "You flew all this way to give me a few days?"
"I have things to return to."
"You have a kingdom full of people whose entire purpose is doing things for you."
"That is not their entire purpose." Ivar cut into his food. "I have, um… Lots and lots of Crown Prince thingies." Kashi's mouth twitched. "State duties. Diplomatic stuff."
"Duties," Kashi repeated.
"Yes."
"You wave at people."
Ivar slapped a hand against the table. "I do not just wave at people!"
Kashi lifted one hand and demonstrated a tiny royal wave. "Hello, my adorable, loving subjects."
Dante choked and reached immediately for his water.
Ivar stared at her in horror. "That is not what I do."
Kashi waved again, perfectly straight-faced. "God bless the kingdom."
"Oh, fuck you!"
Dante was laughing too hard to help him.
Ivar pointed across the table. "You're supposed to respect the monarchy and take my side, bunbun."
"She's my boss," Dante managed.
"I am your Crown Prince and the absolute love of your life."
Dante became deeply interested in his plate. Kashi dropped her gaze before James could see her face. Across the table, Dante glanced at her. Their eyes met and Kashi smiled sweetly.
My car.
Dante looked away.
James returned his attention to Ivar. "And how is your father?"
"Good. Busy. Ever the stoic, strict ruling king."
"Tell him I said he works too much."
Ivar stared. "You just spent ten minutes complaining that I don't work."
James ignored him. "Hmph."
Ivar looked around the table as though appealing to a higher court. There was none.
Kashi set down her fork. "My dear cousin finally visits and you're interrogating him. Grandfather, allow him some peace."
James reached across and placed another piece of steak on Ivar's plate. "Fine. Let's eat."
Ivar looked down at it, his grin slowly returned. "Yes, Grandfather." he glanced towards Dante.
Kashi saw it.
Nobody else would have thought anything of it.
Unfortunately for them, Kashi had functioning eyes and a recently violated Bugatti.
She cut into her food with unnecessary precision. My precious baby.
Ivar reached for his glass. Kashi watched him.
Enjoy lunch, Your Highness.
Because after this— She smiled to herself.
I'm killing you.
And just like that, the argument was over at least for the next thirty seconds.