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Horatio looked up from his book at the knock on his door. “Come in,” he called, standing to greet his visitor. A servant opened the door, inclining her head slightly.
“His Highness wishes to speak with you in his closet, my lord,” she informed him.
“Oh, of course. Thank you,” Horatio said. Putting a marker in his book, he hurried off towards Hamlet’s quarters. He paused at the door, running a hand through his hair before opening it.
“My lord,” he said, bowing low as he entered the room. Hamlet was slouching on his bed, but sat up straighter as Horatio entered.
“We must talk about that,” he sighed.
“Talk about what, my lord?” Horatio asked.
“That!” Hamlet snapped, gesturing at Horatio’s general person.
“My lord, I’m afraid I don’t understand.”
“Close the door.” Horatio obeyed immediately. “Look, Horatio, we’re alone now. Nobody can overhear us.”
“I am aware, my lord,” Horatio said. He walked over and sat next to Hamlet, careful to keep a respectful distance. He had already allowed himself to be too comfortable with the prince’s personal space.
“You don’t have to call me ‘my lord’ when nobody can hear.”
Horatio blinked. “My lord, I do. It’s simple decorum. You are a prince.”
“Yeah, and you’re my best friend!” Hamlet grabbed Horatio’s shoulders, turning him towards him. “I don’t like it when you act all… below me. If anything, I should be calling you my lord!”
Horatio balked. “Why, my lord?”
Hamlet grabbed Horatio’s hand, and a little shudder went through him. “Hamlet. Just Hamlet,” he said. “Please.”
“Why… Hamlet?” Horatio asked. The name felt strange on his tongue, and he resisted the urge to correct himself.
“You’re smart, that’s why!” Hamlet snapped. “You always know what to do and what to say. You’re calm when everyone else is panicking. You’re just… perfect.” Horatio’s heart disobeyed him, thudding hard at the complements and flushing his face. “You’re the kind of person I should be.”
“I think you’re a good person just how you are,” Horatio said softly. Hamlet looked up at him through thick eyelashes.
“You don’t mean that.”
“My lord, I do.”
“Wait, I want to try something.” Hamlet stood up, trotting over to his vanity. Carefully, he opened a drawer and removed his crown- or one of them, the one he wore for everyday affairs. He carried it back to the bed, sitting down much closer to Horatio. He swung his legs into his lap. “Careful,” he muttered, placing the crown on Horatio’s head.
For a moment, Horatio’s head bobbed, the gold and jewels heavier than he’d expected. He froze, hoping one wrong move wouldn’t send the expensive piece crashing to the ground. “What is the meaning of this?” he asked Hamlet.
Hamlet leaned back, though he was still practically sitting in Horatio’s lap. “As I thought. It suits you better, my lord.”
Horatio choked a little. “My lord, I-“
“Hamlet,” Hamlet corrected.
“… Hamlet, I don’t think this is appropriate behavior for… people of our respective ranks to engage in.”
“I know, but you’ll have to forgive your poor servant for forgetting his decorum around a prince, my lord.” Hamlet smiled cheekily. To hell with this, Horatio thought, blushing furiously. To hell with this and to hell with his body’s quite frankly embarrassing reaction.
“Hamlet, come on. This was funny when it was just asking me to call you by your name, but this is quite a lot don’t you think?”
Hamlet pouted, shifting to put more of his body in Horatio’s lap. Please don’t, Horatio thought, as his body screamed “more please!” “It’s perfectly alright with me if it is with you, my lord.” He paused. “Is it alright?”
“I don’t know,” Horatio croaked. He prayed that Hamlet couldn’t feel the heat that seemed to radiate from his general pelvic area as the other man placed himself in his lap. He’d be lying, though, if he said he didn’t like the contact.
“Oh.” Hamlet scooted off him, face red with embarrassment. “I’m sorry, my- Horatio.”
“It’s quite alright, my lord.” Hamlet’s fingers brushed his hair as he lifted the crown off Horatio’s head.
“You’re dismissed.” Hamlet stiffly turned, putting the ornament away. Horatio bowed to his frame and left before Hamlet could get a good look at his disheveled state.
He quickly found himself back in his quarters, but Horatio could hardly go back to his book. He groaned, looking down at himself in disgust. He could only hope he wouldn’t have this kind of reaction in public.
On the other hand, in private… he wouldn’t refuse Hamlet if he wanted to call Horatio his lord again.