repost - Winter Prince modern day AU

[thatrcooper]

Q: Prompt: I will vanquish your foes and then help you file your taxes.

Asked by: vashti-lives

I can absolutely Winter Prince for this one.

(Reposted from my tumblr)
 

 

“You realize the press is imagining you engaged to some princess or other right now?” Razin’s tone was close to frosty, although he kept his gaze on his tablet. He swiped the glass a few times in short, furious gestures that still managed to be graceful.

Kisin did not think Razin was actually reading anything at the moment, although Razin was clever enough to hold a conversation and look over spreadsheets at the same time.

more spiky Razin behind the cut.
 

No, making fun of Kisin’s embarrassing popularity with the paparazzi and his complete failure of a romantic life, while also pretending he didn’t care about it was one of his best friend’s favorite pastimes. He also liked Games of Thrones–the books–and comic books. He had quite the collection now. Kisin’s family paid him well to manage their fortune.

He should have been happy, not scowling at his tablet and sitting in icy silence while Kisin stared at him. Kisin had been going to ask if Razin wanted to go to lunch. Kisin avoided the city as much as he could, mostly because of the presence of the press, but also in a somewhat stupid attempt to give Razin space.

To give himself space as well. It was an awkward and painful thing, to be in love with your best friend. It was worse when they didn’t love you, and you showed up to their apartment unannounced and found they had a guest.

A very naked guest, who felt comfortable enough to answer the door.

So these days, Kisin stayed either in the family’s cabin in Vermont or at the place in Connecticut, where he could at least see to the horses. And when he got bored, or lonely, or simply couldn’t stand only talking with Razin through email, he came down.

Obviously he shouldn’t have.

“Yes, I know,” he admitted on a sigh. “I went to Paris last month for some event with Ceren, and Princess Lana and I happened to get along. She likes the same books I do, and she loves horses.” He stopped briefly to frown when Razin muttered something and reached over to grab his coffee and down it in one swallow. “She’s nice, Razin. You’d like her. ”

Razin was not in a good mood. His fingers were drumming against the tablet now. “I thought His Highness didn’t like media attention.” His Highness was Razin’s teasing pet name for Kisin since they were boys, and Razin had come to the country estate when his mother had been hired as a cook. Kisin was His Highness to him. And then at some point when Kisin had been in college, the nickname had been overheard by a reporter and the public had gone crazy with it. Pictures of Kisin riding his favorite horse, chopping wood at the cabin while sporting a beard, in a tux while attending a charity gala with his mother, had appeared in tabloids overnight, all with HIS HIGHNESS splashed across them.

Once he’d been in the Sexiest Man Alive issue, Razin had been merciless.

“Who is His Highness dating this week?” was almost inevitably Razin’s first question at seeing him. Or, “Whose heart will His Highness be breaking today?”

“Razin. You know I don’t like the attention. I never asked for it. I only came to the city because I hadn’t seen you in two months.” Kisin didn’t try to have a witty comeback. He wasn’t as clever as Razin. But usually his quiet remarks  would shut Razin up, make him take a breath and then turn agreeable again.

Sure enough, Razin gave a sigh and finally looked up from whatever he had been pretending to do. He stared at Kisin for a long moment, sweeping his gaze from his shoulders to his feet and then up to Kisin’s face. He swallowed and then glanced away.

“I don’t know if I can been seen out in public with you,” he declared, loftily, if breathlessly. “People like the idea of you in love with an actual princess. If they see you with me, they might get the wrong idea. What does your princess think of your beard?” Razin’s breathlessness became more pronounced. “I didn’t realize you’d been up at the cabin, doing your manly man lumberjack routine.”

“My princess,” Kisin began, with as much sarcasm as he could muster, “was trying to make time with my sister for most of fashion week before she abandoned the chase to bed some models. And I came straight down. Should I have shaved first?” He scratched at his jaw.

Razin shook his head no, quite firmly, then seemed to stop himself. He heaved a breath, then muttered to himself as he put his tablet away and straightened his desk. “His Highness thinks I will drop everything to have lunch with him, simply because he tells me he came down just to see me.”

The muttering didn’t fool Kisin this time. He rolled his eyes. “If you can stand to be seen with me, Razin. The paparazzi always seem to find me. They know damn well Lana and I aren’t dating, but it makes a good story I guess.”

“Of course it does,” Razin spoke softly, while turning away to put on his scarf. “The prince and the princess in Paris. It will hardly compare to the prince and his accountant at lunch.”

“I could take you somewhere romantic?” Kisin offered, meaning to tease, and then heard himself, and what an idiot he was. “The nicest falafel truck in Wall Street,” he added quickly, hoping Razin wouldn’t notice.

Razin had fancier taste than any falafel truck anyway.

But Razin froze.

Kisin’s heart kicked with terror, terror that did not lesson when Razin turned to him with a strange, sad smile on his face.

“I might have a solution to His Highness’ current romantic predicament.” Razin studied Kisin again, from his sweater and thick coat to his dark beard. He gave one final sigh, and then straightened his shoulders as he approached Kisin.

He linked their hands together, entwining his fingers gracefully with Kisin’s, and then made a small sound before he continued walking, dragging Kisin along with him, out of his office, past curious secretaries and startled interns.

“Razin.” At the express elevator, Kisin balked, no matter how smart and cunning Razin could be. “Razin, they’ll think you’re the other woman. They’ll demonize you. They’ll–” He stopped dead. “They’ll think you’re in love with me.”

“That’s the plan, Your Highness.” Razin’s tone was too nervous to be mocking, although he might have intended it to be. “And you would be in love with me, unless you think they won’t buy it, since you can barely bring yourself to visit me anymore. Too busy chopping wood and breaking hearts.”

“I’m not–” Kisin realized he was being goaded into a fight, which was one of Razin’s other favorite pastimes when he was upset. He shook his head. “The press will hate you. I won’t allow it. I can take them thinking I’m engaged again, or that I dumped her and broke her heart, or whatever it will be next week, but I can’t take them attacking you.”

“You–” Razin raised his head to stare at Kisin with wide eyes. A frown came and went in his expression. Then the elevator door’s dinged as they opened, and he stepped inside. He was still leading Kisin and Kisin was still letting himself be led.

“And His Highness says he doesn’t break hearts,” Razin complained lightly once the doors were closed and they were alone again. He kept his gaze down, on the floor, Kisin thought, until he realized they were still holding hands. “Maybe if you finally settled down, and really dated someone, the press would get bored and leave you alone.”

He was quiet.

So was Kisin, although he couldn’t have said why. “Who do you suggest?”

Razin lifted his chin, but kept his eyes away. “Someone you actually care for and want to spend time with, obviously.”

Kisin swallowed to wet his suddenly dry throat, then quickly directed his attention to the elevators doors as well, and not their joined hands. The moment the doors opened to the lobby, people would see them together. They would assume. There would be rumors and then pictures.

“I’m not going to pretend to date you, Razin,” Kisin insisted, with his palms damp and his heart rate skyrocketing. “But I will go to lunch with you. I came here to have lunch with you.”

Razin whipped his head around to stare at him, although Kisin kept his attention on the doors.

“Yes, you did,” Razin agreed, after far too long a pause, while his mind had reasoned and considered everything there was to reason and consider about Kisin. “You–”

“You never did say where you wanted to go for lunch,” Kisin interrupted, and released Razin’s hand as the doors opened to reveal the marble walls of the lobby.