"Cheese Prince! Cheese Prince! Cheese Prince!"
Cheese Prince twirled a microphone between his fingers with a wide grin, basking in the glow of the limelight. His loyal subjects, the Cheese People, were settled in for an evening of corny jokes and puns, as they did every Saturday—but this Saturday was special. This Saturday, three colorful faces near the front stood out from the sea of yellow and orange, smiling up at him. His childhood friends, now the rulers of their own kingdoms, were visiting his for the first time in many years.
"You know what I hate? I hate it when people tell me I'm doing a gouda job."
The Cheese People erupted in fits of giggles at the pun, as was their wont, but Cheese Prince, or as his friends called him, Cheeps, wasn't focused on them. His only goal was to make Ever Green Prince laugh. Cheeps had had a crush on the emerald-skinned boy since they were kids, long before the frontier wars had torn them apart, and he still did. EG brushed a lock of dark green hair out of his face. The single leaf that adorned his adorable tiara wobbled. So cute. He was wearing a tight-fitting tan cloth tunic over dark tan pants that flared before disappearing into adventuring boots, a cape the color of his pants, and silk evening gloves. He was stunning.
"It's like saying, 'Oh, wow, you're doing a great job not breaking any legs!' Like, suddenly there's this edam performance anxiety," he continued. "You feel like you have an obligation to top what you've been doing, and what do you know, now your leg is broken. Thanks a lot," he scoffed playfully.
EG's smile grew a tiny bit bigger as the rest of the crowd went nuts. Next to him, the perpetually melodramatic Ocean Prince gave a deep belly laugh, slapping his knee as the gills on the sides of his neck trembled. On the opposite side of the table the serene Sky Princess rolled her eyes, even the sarcastic motion graceful coming from her. Cheese Prince had commissioned Monterey Jack, a local craftsman down on his luck, to carve a custom chair to accommodate Sky's feathered azure wings a few weeks before their arrival, and the furnisher's shop had since exploded in popularity.
Sensing that he'd successfully broken the ice, Cheeps moved on to his next bit. It was a risky subject, but sometimes, you just had to jump off the cliff and take a chance.
"A lot of people ask me why I'm not religious. I actually used to be very religious—until I became the sovereign and everyone started calling me His Holiness." He pointed to the gaping hole where his right eye should've been with a flat look. The Cheese People went wild… and EG let out a chuckle.
Cheese Prince flushed annatto with pride. His beam outshone the spotlights. Then, remembering the announcement he had to make at the end of the meeting, he continued his act. Most kingdoms made proclamations formally to their people, but since their very beginning the Cheese Royal Family had worked big announcements into comedy routines. Cheesiness was in his sweat and blood. Which led him to his next joke.
"I find it a little weird that Softy Cheese is our biggest export. I mean, people do know what they're eating, right?" He paused. "They do realize it's Cheese People byproduct, don't they? Kind of weird that our sales are at an all-time high…"
The assembly laughed, and there was the genius of the Cheese Kingdom's tradition. Even as he gave his citizens mirth, he also gave them the comforting knowledge that they were economically stable, that they would not starve tonight. What folks said in distant lands was only part of the truth—laughter could be the best form of medicine, but it could also be the sugar that helped the medicine go down. Slime and Candy.
But, as much as he loved it, being up on stage was inherently tiring. Cheeps took a long draught of water from the glass sitting atop a stool next to him, wiping the sweat off his brow. Next up, self-deprecation and black humor.
"So, the other day I was sitting in the castle thinking, 'Is the house made of flesh, or am I made of house?' Then I spent a few hours screaming in the closet, because I do not know."
It was aimed more at his friends, and Cheeps' life purpose felt fulfilled seeing EG glancing away shyly, covering a smile; Ocean guffawing; and even the tranquil Sky giggling a little. The Cheese People themselves roared before trailing off bemusedly, their expressions equal parts 'great hilarity' and 'existential crisis'.
Now… the proclamation he was dreading. The Cheese, Forest, Ocean, and Cloud Kingdoms had only been at peace for about a year now, and it wasn't official yet. He had invited his friends to sign a formal nonaggression pact. Most of the people were eager to visit their neighbors again, but a few exceptionally vocal minorities fiercely advocated a continued apartheid. Those minorities rarely escalated to violence, thank Glob, but announcing an armistice could very well cause riots. It only took one wheel of rotten cheese to make the entire tasting session go bad.
Then, there was Ocean Prince. The iridescent teal-skinned boy had eyes as stormy as the sea and hair like a tidal wave. Where EG was fashionable, Ocean was utilitarian, wearing shark-scale armor almost tactlessly. There wasn't a gentle way to put it—Ocean Prince had inherited a kingdom of sea monsters, and they were as unpredictable as the turbulent currents. Cheeps hoped that Ocean could rein in the tide, but they were all still so young, and Ocean was less like his gentle mother than his late father, the ego-extinct Ocean King.
Cheeps shifted, adjusting the halberd resting on his back. It was a family heirloom, forged during the Rainicorn-Dog Wars long ago, imbued with minor magical properties, and passed down from Big Cheese to Big Cheese with each succession ever since. The rustproof bismuth alloy blade was a reminder that despite their cornball nature, the Cheese People had a sharp side to them.
"You may be aware that joining us tonight are a couple friendly faces," Cheese Prince said with a wink, snapping a finger gun at EG. He only had the one eye, so he had to tilt his head so people knew he was winking instead of just blinking. "I mean, phwoar. Is it hot in here, or is it just Ever Green Prince?"
EG turned dark green, blushing furiously. Cheeps instantly felt a stab of regret as the crowd let out a loud, "Oooh!" He was really, incredibly bad at expressing his feelings. Always cheap and shallow. Never able to say why he thought EG was amazing. His eyes, sparkling with the light of a million galaxies. His smile, brighter than the sun and warmer than the hearth. His little button nose that Cheese Prince was dying to nuzzle and just boop gently. His perfect body, just enough chub to have that perfect mix of sexy and cuddly. His vibrant personality that shone through even when he was depressed, his brilliant, curious mind, the way he always knew just how to cheer Cheeps up.
"I'd like to think we've all matured over the years, but just in queso, I am overjoyed to tell you that we're finally putting our cease-fire in ink!" He wiggled his eyebrows. "Bleu ink, specifically."
Ocean thrust his fists into the air with a victory cry, EG buried his face in his hands as a laugh escaped his mouth, his face tinged a darker shade of chlorophyll, and Sky Princess clapped, smiling angelically as the Cheese People laughed and cheered. Cheese Prince's gaze drifted across the crowd. It was impossible to tell which were extremists when every man and woman's face was mirthful. No Cheese Person could resist a pun, even terrible ones. Making a mental note to increase security, Cheeps took a bow, his red wax clothes squeaking.
"Thank you, thank you," he grinned. "Now, I do believe it's happy hour. Go crazy! I'll be here all week!" With that, he leaped down from the stage to join his friends. Curtains unveiled, revealing a mariachi band, which began playing music as the court shifted into night mode. "Was I alright?"
"I thought so," EG said demurely, looking away with a smile.
"Wrong." Cheeps stuck out his tongue, pointing at his face. "I was all left."
Sky Princess scoffed as Ocean slapped him on the back with the force of a tsunami. "Chauncey, your propensity for puns is unheard of in the Drowned City!"
Cheese Prince's face clouded over.
EG looked up from his food. "He doesn't like being called that. It's his dad's name."
Their gazes met. Cheeps smiled at him gratefully. EG became intensely focused on the table, the spot between his eyes and his mouth jade.
Sky stood, her white silk dress swaying gently. The dress had spiral designs stitched into the hemline and a sparkling white gem sewn into the collar. Her simple silver tiara framed ringlets of robin's-egg blue hair. "I'd love to see the castle. It's been forever."
Cheeps nodded, looking around. The Cheese People were starting to trickle out, many shapes and sizes, bellies full and throats wet. Stilton, his butler, was chatting to the bouncy cheesecake bouncer as he waited by the exit for them. "Let's wait a bit. I still haven't had anything yet," he laughed. "Sky, you eat like a bird."
"I was about to say the same!" Ocean said as Sky pouted.
They sat down. Seeing that his boss was ready to order, a waiter immediately dropped what he was doing and rushed to the table. The amount of deference everyone gave him made Cheese Prince uncomfortable. He liked to think of the people as his friends, not his subjects—but it was what it was, Cheeps guessed.
He ordered the pan-fried foie gras with sauce périgueux and poached egg and a cold, frothy glass of baked milk. Prices at the Slice of Life Playhouse ranged from cheap dishes like tofu, beet burgers, or tuna salad to the astronomically expensive truffle dishes, but the Royal Family ate free of charge, seeing as how they owned the place. Cheese Prince tried to only eat there for exceptional occasions. Logically, he knew that the cost of anything he ate was outweighed by the tax dollars that went into the place by extension of it being a government establishment, but he still felt like a mold, ordering the big-ticket items. He took a small bite. The savory, salty flavors exploded deliciously in his mouth.
Ever Green Prince was happily nibbling on a bowl of chapulines, crispy grilled grasshoppers with a chili and lime sauce. It hadn't been a menu item before—Cheeps had gotten the chefs and managers to add bug dishes specially for the insectivorous plant boy. They had maggots already, so he figured, why not diversify? Anything to make him happy. EG washed it all down with a glass of honey water. Normally, bugs were attracted to the sweet smell of his mouth. Cheese Prince couldn't blame them. He could only imagine what it tasted like.
Apparently discovering her appetite, Sky Princess delicately placed a piece of guava between her lips. She'd gotten the fruit salad, some chicken, and a cup of cactus juice, a drink she'd been fond of since they still waddled around with baby bottles. Cactus juice: it's the quenchiest!
Ocean was the most voracious of them all. He tore through an entire swordfish in the time it took EG to eat a third of his bowl, proceeding to order several sandwiches, hot dogs, and a steak. He left no survivors. Everything edible disappeared into the cold-blooded boy's endless gullet. As Cheeps watched, Ocean took a huge bite out of a bacon pancake before chugging an entire bottle of Super Porp.
"Alrighty," Cheeps said, clapping his hands together. "You all ready to go?"
EG let out a cute little hiccup. A hand flew to cover his embarrassed face. The young sovereigns all nodded and rose. Cheese Prince beckoned to Stilton, who politely ended his conversation and moved to them, giving his liege a deferential bow. Finally, his face seemed to say. "We have prepared the rooms to your specifications, my lord."
Cheese Prince beamed. He'd had construction crews take out the wall and ceiling of one of the guest rooms to build a comfy greenhouse for the photosynthetic Ever Green Prince. Another had been converted into a giant indoor swimming pool. Cheeps had thought about building an aquarium, but that might've been tasteless. Did fish enjoy being in tanks? Were they like houses, or prisons? Sky was an angel of prey, so she could sleep anywhere, but she was used to sleeping on clouds, so he'd gotten her a water bed with the puffiest, coziest sheets and pillows he could find.
The cheesecake bouncer nodded to them as they stepped outside into the crisp evening air. A neon "OPEN" sign flickered beside the door, while another proudly displayed the words "Slice of Life" above their heads in purple light. The people bustled and laughed amongst themselves, but cleared out of the way for royalty. They'd been that way for Cheese Prince's entire life. Surrounded by people, completely alone. Words couldn't express how happy he was to have true friends beside him. But of course, he couldn't say it. That'd be just sappy.
The Cheese Kingdom wasn't entirely made from cheese, of course. The streets were paved with curds and whey, the playgrounds had fine, slippery buttermilk powder, and bridges of brunost hung over rivers of rennet, but the primary construction materials were dry jack and Parmigiano-Reggiano, with supports of wood and wax. The magic of the ancients kept the mold and stench at bay, but they still had to give the buildings vinegar baths from time to time.
EG put two fingers to his lips and let out a loud, pleasant note. A small hummingbird with leaves for feathers, a bright yellow beak, and a vibrant orange-pink flower for a head fluttered down from the rafters, alighting on the Prince's hand.
"Who's that?" Cheese Prince asked.
EG glanced up at him. There was a deep, profound sadness in his eyes, but they still shone with strength. "This is Turnip. I was lonely, so… I made him from some stuff."
Turnip cocked his head and chirped at Cheeps, big shiny black eyes shimmering. Cheeps reached out to pet the plant-bird, but Turnip moved away, ruffling his feather-leaves. Cheese Prince chuckled and stuck his hands in his pockets. Sky eyed Turnip predatorily out of the corners of her eyes, avian instincts kicking in. She flapped her wings and began hovering over them, avoiding the temptation.
A flash of teal in the crowd gave him pause. He turned to look, but there were only Cheese People in shades of yellow, orange, and white, a trace of black cloth swirling around a corner. Odd. Cheeps didn't know anyone who had black curtains. Most people chose bleached or tan cloth.
Halfway to the castle, as they were crossing Mozzarella Avenue, Cheeps sensed it. A disturbance in the farce. He rested a hand on his halberd. There was no need to look around. Cheese Prince had an instinct for the crowd. Every good comedian knew when his audience turned against him.
The swarm of people slowly, subtly tightened the circle of empty space around the royals. Stilton continued leading them, and Cheeps didn't stop him. He didn't alert them. That would make them afraid. Fear was what the extremists wanted. Rebellion, literally meaning I renew war. Men in cheesecloth robes shuffled closer, arms concealed within the folds. Two knives, in the baselard and seme styles. A morning star. Some kind of unwieldy weapon with rollers and blades—no. Cheeps' blood ran cold, then burned with rage. It was a salad shooter.
His spirits darkened. Like a wave of rot bearing down on his mind, Cheese Prince sensed the outspoken leader of the extremists, Casu Marzu, watching from behind them. The man's necrotic flesh crawled with maggots, weeping putrid ooze.
Cheese Prince bent his knees slightly, crouching as he walked. He traced a half-circle in the dirt with his thigh-high stiletto boot. What could he say? The boots made him feel confident and cute. He'd liked heels since playing in his mom's closet as a toddler, and had worn them so much that he could run, climb, and leap in them without a problem. Cheese People had no real anatomy, so he didn't have to worry about the agony of the feet, and the stilettos were great pivot points.
The man with the baselard blade, a pudgy Brie, shuffled within arm's reach of them, looking at EG hungrily. Filled with a frigid rage, Cheeps steadied his breath. Wait for it.
Pudgy shifted forward. His deltoid twitched. Wait for it.
The Brie lunged, stabbing toward Ever Green's chest. Cheese Prince spun effortlessly, knocking the baselard out of the man's hand and into the air with a precise vertical kick. Without thinking, he snatched the dagger and twirled, hurling it at a Colby woman as his other hand found its way to the Brie man's face. Colby dropped, a baselard imbedded in her shoulder. Brie staggered and tripped, falling flat.
EG whimpered, shrinking in on himself. He never responded well to violence, anger, or fear. Each time Cheeps had broken down in front of him was another mistake he could never take back. He hoped EG would give him another chance. Cheese Prince could change. Right?
"My liege!" the apartheidist with the salad shooter, a particularly ugly Muenster, said. "Why would you corrupt our fair city with weak bloodlines?"
Weak? Ever Green Prince was the strongest person he had ever known, an emotional bastion. Far stronger than Cheese Prince. "Big talk about weak bloodlines, coming from a guy with no chin," Cheeps snorted. "What'd you get your sister for Mother's Day?" Muenster's brow furrowed, the wisecrack going over his lumpy head.
EG quivered on the ground, shielding Turnip in his arms. Even scared out of his mind, EG still tried to protect the things he loved. Ocean began roaring with maniacal laughter. As the fundamentalists started coming out of the woodworks, he tore his shirt off, revealing muscles that rippled like the waves, and started tossing Cheese People around like ragdolls. Sky buffeted them with wind from above.
"Why?" Muenster repeated, thrusting the salad shooter at him.
Cheese Prince caught it with his halberd and shoved back, knocking the man off-balance. "You're not in any position to axe questions," he said. He raised the blade above his head and brought it down, cutting the cheese. "I'm the Käse Kaiser!"
"You're a heathen," Muenster gasped.
"Call me what you want. I've got thick skin." Cheeps winked. He wrenched the halberd from Muenster's chest. The cheese assumed room temperature.
The aura of decay receded. For cheddar or for wurst, Casu Marzu had retreated without personally getting involved. The remaining apartheidists looked at each other, dropped their weapons, and took to their knees. Cheese Prince didn't acknowledge his subjects. He fell to the ground, wrapping the still panicked EG in a hug. "Hey, hey. It's alright. It's going to be alright."
He rested his head on EG's shoulder. Slowly, EG stopped trembling. Turnip poked his head out of EG's arms as the green boy looked up. He smiled at him. Sky Princess landed. Ocean Prince was feasting on—oh, no. Cheese Prince looked away. Sky began admonishing him. The extreme omnivore was at it again.
Cheeps helped Ever Green Prince to his feet and turned to face the kneeling men and women. He snapped his fingers. Within a matter of moments, the purple-waxed Royal Guard appeared. Knowing them, they'd probably been preoccupied with wine and crackers. "You know the drill, Humboldt Fog," he said to the captain of the guard, a loyal but not too alert goat-eyed Chèvre. "Lock them in the cellar. If they're repeat offenders… put 'em out to pasteurize."
Humboldt hitched up his pike. "Hoi, sir." The Guard surrounded their attackers, grabbed them by the armpits, and escorted them away.
Stilton brushed the dust off his suit, sniffing. "I'm going to pretend like our police force isn't a complete disgrace. Shall we proceed to the castle?"
Cheeps nodded, grinning at EG, who turned green and glanced away. Cheese Prince gave a start as he realized he was still holding his crush's hand. His hand flew to his other arm, holding it sheepishly. "Uh, yeah. Make like a vegetable and lettuce proceed." Too late, he realized he'd made a plant pun. Now they were both blushing.
The rest of the way to the castle was uneventful. EG and Sky chatted quietly, EG nervous and Sky calming. When Cheeps tried to join, they pushed him away with their gazes. So, Cheese Prince walked alone, clutching his arm self-consciously. His mind churned with wordplay. It was something he did when he was feeling depressed, to not focus on his problems. Tree's company. Forever provolone. Incredibly hawkward. Beautiful jokes from a terrible person.
Cheese Prince scratched his eye hole, pushing his senses outward. The city was falling asleep, discontentment dying out like cancer going into remission. It was still there, but it lurked silently, a slumbering earclops ready to awaken at the mildest trespass.
He paused, staring at the ground. Cheeps was supposed to be a comedian. So why did it always feel like the joke was on him? Brooding silently, it took him a moment to notice the green arms wrapped around his waist.
"Heyy, Cheeps. What's wrong?"
Cheese Prince's heart skipped a beat. "I thought you were mad at me."
EG chuckled. "Just because I don't reply doesn't mean I'm mad at you. I just needed some time to think. To calm down. You'll always be my memelord. Just… chill. Be more chill."
Cheeps closed his eye and leaned into EG's embrace, breathing peacefully. It felt… pretty grate. Cheese Prince would've liked to stay there forever, but then Ocean Prince chuckled, snapping him and EG out of their reverie.
"As prince of the waves, I'll make sure this ship doesn't sink," he said with a wink.
Ever Green let him go with a start. Cheese Prince turned orange. They started moving again, this close together. Their shoulders brushed, and Cheeps had to restrain from trying to hug EG back. Hot in the face, cold in the spine, sick in the stomach, whole in the heart. He hated the way EG made him feel. He loved the way EG made him feel.
The Cheese Castle appeared around the corner. It was visible from most of the city, but it was hard to comprehend just how big and gaudy it was until one was facing it. The castle was built in a triangular shape, like a wedge of Caerphilly over ten thousand square meters across, with walls fourteen meters tall and six meters thick. The main structure itself, constructed of Grana Padano and Gruyere, rested atop a small motte. It was surrounded by a large curtain wall with holes for cannons, crossbows, and hot cheese, bristling with wooden spikes, and a moat – nay, a small lake – of lactic acid surrounding the entire structure, its runoff forming the city's rivers. The message was clear: we may be jokesters, but bite us, and we will give you indigestion. It had been smaller, cozier, before the war.
War. It was hard to think about. Harder to relive. He remembered the moment when he and Ever Green had been torn apart. They'd been sitting in a field, blowing dandelions at each other and holding hands, when their parents had run in and… they'd been yanked away…
He couldn't think of who'd started the war, what the justification had been. Whatever the pretense, the real reason was glory. But there was no glory in war, only a grim march to an early grave. Sequestered away in the lonely, unfinished halls as his parents lived and breathed the battlefield, he had no real memories of fighting. All he remembered was the waiting, waiting, no one but the staff for company, thinking Ever Green was going to visit for another playdate. And then the crushing, soul-rending emptiness inside his chest when he finally realized his prince wasn't coming to save him from his prison.
The drawbridge lowered for them. Two women waved from their gatehouse. Ricotta and Mimolette. Of all the people in the Royal Guard, these two were the most trustworthy, and likely the smartest. He'd picked them specifically because they were a couple and hadn't regretted it a single time since. No one fought with more ferocity than a girl in love. Two girls in love? Truly a chemistry to be reckoned with.
Cheese Prince swiveled as they reached the gate, facing his friends. He grinned at them. "Tomorrow we're going to celebrate for real, so get your party pants ready. Scribble Princess, Couch Princess, Wacky Waving Arm Flailing Inflatable Tube Prince – it's gonna be crazy." Cheeps looked at EG. "I mean… if you're comfortable with that."
EG smiled demurely. "I'm always comfortable with comforters."
Cheeps blinked. His face grew warm. It felt like he had cotton balls in his mouth. "You just… that…" He beamed. "…That was incredibly cheesy."
Ever Green beamed back, tugging at his cloak. "Good. I tried."
Mimolette waved to him from inside their booth, the smaller and skinnier Ricotta asleep in her lap. Late evening cuddles. Sleeping on the job was technically grounds for termination, but even if Cheese Prince were the type to take disciplinary action – well, he wasn't. No point in considering hypotheticals that couldn't be. He waved back as Ricotta stirred. Mimolette kissed her cheek.
"Wake up, sleepyhead. Our baby's here."
Cheese Prince stuck his tongue out. "Stop calling me your baby, Mimi. Both of you are within a year of me."
Ricotta stretched, yawning. She was a head shorter than the brawny Mimolette, but what she lacked in height, she more than made up for in curves. "Pineapple," she murred into Mimi's chest.
"No, silly." Mimolette shook her gently. "Cheese, not fruit."
They were both attractive, in their own ways. Ricotta was shapely and bitesize (so to speak), with full lips, long lashes, creamy white skin, and a slightly upturned nose, but no fashion sense: she was currently wearing a plaid button-up over camo pants. Mimi, meanwhile, had muscles, height, orange skin, an aquiline nose and a beautiful smile, and unlike her girlfriend, trendiness, in a blue-and-purple felt tuxedo with the sleeves torn off, showing her strong arms. Cheeps appreciated them as he would a fine painting – he recognized the appeal they held for others, but he wouldn't take them out to a special dinner. He played for the other team.
"Good arvo, Cheeps," Mimi said with a smile, tickling Ricotta's belly. Ricotta squirmed.
"Okay, okay," she protested, giggling. "I'm awake! Gimme caffeine."
"You already drank all the–"
"Nowwww."
Mimolette raised her arms in defeat, reaching over to the minifridge. "All we have are my energy drinks. You hate this stuff."
"Oh, my Glob. Stop being a butt and just hit me with some. If it has caffeine, I will drink it."
Mimi pulled out a can. Ricotta snatched it, downed the entire thing in one long draught and slammed it to the counter with a mighty belch. She feebly attempted to crush it before turning to Mimolette with a pout.
Mimi ruffled Ricotta's hair and squished the can like it was made of wet toilet paper. Cheeps loved their dynamic – Mimi was as masculine as a fighting bull but had the etiquette of a lady, while Ricotta, the most feminine-looking femme Cheese Prince had ever seen, was as salty and vulgar as a sailor.
Truly beautiful.
Cheese Prince slapped Ricotta's hand and pulled her in, both of them snapping their fingers. "You two coming to the party tomorrow? Just a little thing, for our friends."
Mimolette glanced around. "Us, partying with nobles? Sounds mad lit. Real talk – who's gonna woman the drawbridge? If we go."
"I've got someone in mind." Cheeps' eyes glinted. "They're quite good at security."
Mimi and Ricotta looked at each other. Ricotta wrapped her arms around Mimi's neck and pressed her lips against her ear, whispering something. Mimolette turned a shade of orange deeper than anything Cheese Prince had thought possible and turned back to him. "O-okay. W-we'll be there."
Cheese Prince moved through the gate and spun, snapping at them with a grin as he slid backwards. The moon might not have been made out of cheese, but the moonwalk certainly was.
His castle's entrance hall was warm in temperature but cold in mood, austere with the weight of a ten-year desolation in spite of the light from the gas lamps hanging on the walls and callous with the scars of legacy. They all hid scars. Some did a better job than others. But now was the time of healing. The future was brighter than ever. Gazing at EG's face, even though the boy wore a frown, Cheese Prince's own was cheerier than the glow of the hearth.
Cheese Prince knew Ever Green Prince struggled internally. Even though his crush hid it perfectly with everyone else, Cheeps could tell. A slip of the tongue here, a hesitation there. Their encounters over the years had been short, and terse, but they were enough to affirm his suspicions—and his affections. EG was kind, gentle, demure, and vibrant on the surface and in his core. Cheese Prince would heal the stuff between.
"G'night, everyone." Cheese Prince turned and began walking to the dead king's bedroom, the castle staff showing his friends to their rooms, the weight of the day settling on his shoulders. It felt like he'd been standing behind a fuel-inefficient car for hours, not telling jokes. The exhaustion just billowed over him.
As he yawned into his sleeve, he felt a slight touch on his shoulder. Ever Green Prince was looking at him with a strange expression on his face. "Um… good night, Cheese Prince."
Cheese Prince smiled softly, reaching out and ruffling his crush's leaves. "Good night, Greenie. Sweet dreams."
Two servants pulled open the massive, gilded stone-blue-and-gold doors to the king's bedroom. Try as Cheeps might, he couldn't think of it as his own. He reached out and brushed the boy on the left's hair out of his face with a smile.
"You'd get that girl you like sooner if you didn't cover up your pretty face, Oaxaca. Have you been doing what I told you?"
The boy blushed, biting his lip as he stared at Cheeps. His hair, silvery and longer on one side, flopped back where it'd been. "Yeah, the… girl… I like. Thank you, my liege, for… uh… showing me the ropes."
Cheeps chuckled. It was no secret that Cheese Prince enjoyed the company of other men. The young noble was infamous for being a shameless flirt with the boys his age among the staff these days. He nodded to his servants as the doors closed and flopped into the grand, lonely bed. The room spoke volumes of the decadence of his ancestors, with its spider silk duvets, gilded brass legs on every table, and curtains on the windowless walls, all in shades of indigo and dark fuchsia. It gave off an impression of wintriness and muted emotions. Could use a splash of bright green. With a groan, he rose from bed and pulled his clothes off, the wax squeaking as it stretched. He could fall asleep without putting on his pajamas… but he wouldn't want to form any bad habits. Pulling on a white T-shirt and bright pink bottoms, he quickly brushed his teeth, set his alarm, and slipped under the covers. As he drifted off to sleep, he groggily mused at how ironic it was that Ever Green Prince would change colors soon. Funny… and so… cute…
It took him a moment to realize that he was not in bed but was, in fact, chilling in a hot tub with two dudes who were definitely not his type.
The translucent golden-green owl with sparkles laced throughout his body started with a splash, while the pink, two-dimensional man's blue eyes widened with shock under the water.
"Whooo's this guy?" the owl said. "I thought it was just gonna be us… movies and snacks…"
Cheeps looked around. Sure enough, a movie was playing on the wall next to him. The entire wall, occupied by a moving picture. Strange. The room was entirely yellow save for the fourth wall, a shade lighter than his own skin, and multiple plastic cups, toilet paper rolls, and deflated balloons were laying strewn about on the floor.
The two-dimensional man gave the owl a level stare. "He's not really here, dude. It's a dream. This is why you don't take days off without notice. The universe likes playing around with people, you know. That's, like, rule one of wish making. And life."
The owl glowered. Cheese Prince stared down at the cloudy, bubbly, incredibly hot water. The two-dimensional man stared back at him from the floor of the tub and winked. Something about the gesture, about the man, seemed familiar, as if Cheese Prince knew him already. It was ominous. Cheese Prince's skin crawled. He turned his attention to the film being shown. A golf bag with arms and legs was running around and launching exploding robot heads at swarms of pyramid-shaped spacecraft as cuboid tentacled creatures scuttered on the ground, eating people. It was an incredibly strange film. Must've been Martian.
"Come onnn, Cosmic Owl. The sooner you do your thing, the sooner we can get back to our chill sesh."
"Yeah, okay." Cosmic Owl turned to him with a sigh. "Yo, asiago bro."
"I'm a Swiss-cheddar blend."
The owl rolled his eyes. "Let's just get this over with. Um." He scanned the room, looking for a spin. "Ah. Got it."
Cosmic Owl raised his wings and rose from the water, shining with light. The room warped around them into a bizarre watercolor, but all Cheese Prince could see was the owl's glowing eyes.
"Things are about to get super weird, cheddar man. Suuuper weird. Now, if you'll excuse me, I'd like to get back to my beep BEEP BEEP BEEP."
Cheese Prince fell out of the hot tub in a tasting platter, hitting the floor of his bedroom hard. No, not a hot tub. His bed. He groaned, rubbing his butt. His alarm was going off, making a harsh shrill noise. With a sigh that would have impressed the Cosmic Owl, he clambered to his bare feet and slapped at the top of his alarm until he found the off switch, wishing he had an RMO that would wake him up with a nice gentle shake instead of the ugly abomination on his dresser screaming at him to rise. What a dream. It had seemed so short, yet it had lasted eight hours—eight hours? Quesadilla hot dog buns.
"Halloumi," Cheeps said, glancing in the mirror as he got ready for his shower. He chuckled at his own joke, as he did every morning. Halloumi. Classic. A quick wash and a change of clothes later and Cheese Prince was ready to party.
Today was going to be a great day.