Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Vincent wasn’t sure why he was there, maybe it’s because Nil’s had practically begged him to come or maybe because he had nothing better to do. Either way he was there, in his best suit. It was some charity event, he hadn’t really looked into it, something to do with LGBT rights. Nisse had practically dragged him there by the arm as soon as he heard. They’d kept in touch after school finished, they even shared a flat in Stockholm. It wasn’t very big but there was enough space for the two of them, it reminded him of Hillerska. He’d kept his room practically the same, although it was a little tidier. He didn’t have the excuse of teenage laziness anymore, unfortunately.

The event was bigger than Vincent expected. He wasn’t really sure how they could fit so many people into such a small space, but they did. There were a few small stalls, filled with merchandise and leaflets and most importantly there was wine. Which may have been the only reason he was there, but hey he’d never miss out on free booze. Nils was busy talking, something he’d gotten better at since leaving school. He was never particularly loud, but he seemed more comfortable now. And so, Vincent was left to his own devices, he didn’t mind. He stood by the wall, a glass of white wine in his hand. He wasn’t uncomfortable, the environment was just unfamiliar to him. Subconsciously he wondered what Erik would have thought of him being there. He hadn’t thought about Erik for a while, not that he wanted to. Erik would have hated it, that thought made Vincent smile a little. He would continue doing everything in his will to piss Erik off, even if he wasn’t around anymore. It was his way of coping.

It wasn’t like August didn’t want to go to the event, he had nothing against the charity, in fact he appreciated it’s work. And well after everything he’d done in the past it was a way of repaying the karma he owed. But still the nagging feeling in his chest remained. It was a feeling he’d had since childhood, a feeling that he didn’t belong. He was always too loud, too energetic too overbearing, too much. Still, he had no choice but to go, he was crown prince after all, he couldn’t let the royal family down. August put on his best suit; the fabric of his shirt was loose against his skin. He smiled. He never really knew what to do with his hair, he didn’t have the energy to style it properly and yet he couldn’t leave the curls loose, so he grabbed his gel and comb. It took a lot longer than he wanted it to, but he did look somewhat presentable, so he grabbed his bag and left for the car. It was his duty he reminded himself as he sat in the back of the black vehicle, he dug his nails into his shaking palms.

Vincent had been standing against the wall for a while, completely lost in his thoughts. From an outside perspective he probably looked very suspicious just standing and watching, but he didn’t really care. After a while Nils stumbled over to him, grabbing him by the arm and pulling him into the crowd. Vincent wasn’t particularly in the mood to socialise, but he couldn’t let his friend down, so he chugged the remainder of his wine and joined a conversation. He was never very good at following conversations, his mind always wondered elsewhere. Still, he tried. The conversation had fallen somewhere on the topic of LGBT resources for young people when Vincent saw him, he was standing by the door. He was a lot smaller than Vincent remembered, and yet somehow even taller. Vincent's eyes widened.

August could practically feel the eyes boring into him, he looked up to see a familiar pair of bright blue eyes.

“Crown prince, there’s someone I’d like you to meet.”

August hadn’t stayed in contact with anyone from Hillerska other than Wille, but they were family.  He had duties to fulfil he didn’t have time to socialise. But he would be lying if he said he never thought about them. And he’d be lying if he said he didn’t miss those eyes. Maybe that’s why he did it.

“I’m sorry, will you excuse me for a minute.” He didn’t wait for there reply, his legs were already moving. He didn't really know what he was going to say, he should definitely have planned before because now he was standing in front of him, his mouth open, but no words were coming out.

“August.” Nisse spoke. Could he even call him that anymore, did he have the right? He was the one who stopped talking to them, not the other way around. “August? Are you okay?” he blinked slowly; the realisation had hit him. What was he doing?  

“Yeah, um sorry. I- I should go back. It was nice seeing you again.”  His heart was racing. He inhaled slowly trying to regain control of his breathing. August could hear the conversation behind him, they were talking about him. Everyone was these days, he guessed that’s what came with being in the public eye. Years ago, this is what he wanted, what he strived so hard to become. And yet now he had it, he would give anything to go back.

“What was that about?”

“I’m not sure.”

Something was wrong, he saw the way August’s eyes darted, August looked so fragile. Vincent saw it in his smile, the way it faltered ever so slightly, but most of all he saw it in his eyes. August had always been good at hiding, holding up a façade, but his eyes always gave him away. Always.

August was talking to a member of the charity; he seemed so natural. If he was anyone else, Vincent would have thought that August was comfortable, but he wasn’t anyone else. He saw the cracks, even if no one else seemed to care. He couldn’t seem to ignore it; it was like some sick fixation. He couldn’t help but feel uneasy. August was hiding something; he wouldn’t just disappear for no reason. There must have been a reason, and he wanted to, no he needed to know.

Vincent had never been good at controlling his impulses, if Nisse hadn’t grabbed his arm, he was sure he would have stormed over to him.  After a while he calmed down, but his eyes stayed lingering on August. He reached for another glass before Nils brushed it away.

“you’ve had enough Vince. I’ll call you a cab, just wait here okay.” They were outside, he kicked a pebble from under his foot. The snow was falling heavily. He looked up to see a familiar pair of eyes.

“Hey.”

“Hey, I’m- I’m sorry about earlier I should have talked to you guys it’s just-”

“August stop.”

“stop? Stop what?” his voice was filled with unease.

“Stop pretending like nothing happened.”

“what-”

“Can you please explain to me what I did because I’ve been searching and searching but there’s nothing and I’m so fucking confused. Just please-”

“It wasn’t you, okay. I- I just-”

“You just what, because I fucking needed you Agge. So much happened, and you- you just stopped talking to me-” tears were slipping down his cheeks. He’d definitely had too much to drink.

“I just had a lot going on okay.”

“You could have talked to me-”

“I can’t just rely on you for everything Vincent. It’s not fair on you. I need to learn to deal with things alone, okay.”

“Because that’s working out so well for you, huh.”

“Your drunk Vincent. Go home.”

“Fuck you.” 

August bit his lip.

“You fucking now what, I’m done Vincent. I’m fucking done.”

“I loved you. Fuck! I still love you-”

“Have a nice Christmas, Vincent.”

And he was gone, leaving Vincent alone in the snow.

Chapter Text

August couldn’t sleep, his head was heavy against the pillow. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t get the thought of Vincent out of his head. He was drunk, August knew that but still the words haunted him. “I still love you.” The words looped in his head, a constant rhythm of regret and heartache. August knew he shouldn’t be thinking about it, Vincent was drunk he didn’t mean it, but still, he couldn’t escape the words.  He stared down at his half-eaten bowl of cereal, his stomach dropped. He dropped the spoon. He’d eaten too much, the dry flakes turned to a paste on his tongue. The anxiety and regret pooled in his chest; he’d eaten too much. He could feel their eyes on him, he looked up to Wilhelm’s soft brown eyes. He could feel the pity, the shame was too much. No one was there, he was alone in the bathroom of the palace, the door locked. He pinched the skin on his stomach, tears slipping down his cheeks. He squeezed his eyes shut before splashing cold water on his splotchy skin.

“August, are you in there?” Wilhelm's voice was uneasy, the way it always seemed to be around him. he knew it was his fault, but no matter how hard he tried to get him to forgive him the unease stayed.

“Yeah.” August winced at the sound of his voice. “I’ll be out in a minute.”

“it’s okay, I just wanted to make sure you were okay. You seemed upset. If there’s anything I can do just let me know.”

“I’m fine, thank you though.”

August could hear the footsteps behind the door, gradually fading away. He slid down to the floor, his back leant against the door.

Vincent slumped against the door; he had definitely had too much to drink. You would’ve thought he would have learnt his lesson from his teenage years of empty paracetamol boxes and hangover cures, but honestly, he didn’t think he could survive the function sober, especially not when he saw August by the door.

He squeezed his eyes shut, the pain in his head exacerbated by the memories of the previous day. He’d poured his heart out, only to be met with “I hope you have a nice Christmas.” No, he will not be having a nice fucking Christmas, he’d just been rejected by the love of his life since high school and he was expected to enjoy himself.

“Vincent, I got you some paracetamol and water. Are you going to come out?” Nils’s voice came with a soft knock on the door.

To which Vincent slammed his aching head against the door.

“I’ll take that as a no them, I’ll leave them by the bed. I’m going out I’ll be back later, okay?”

August stared at the pile of documents on his desk, all of which needed to be signed by the end of the day. He really should have been more organised; it was something he was always praised for as a child. Control was always something he strived for, maybe because he had no control over the most significant aspects of his life, his dad killing himself, Erik’s death, becoming crown prince. All attempts to regain control only resulted in more mess and chaos. Exercising helped but he was losing control of that as well, in the little time he had to exercise between his duties he was always exhausted and no matter how hard he pushed his body it was never as strong as he needed it to be.

He couldn't think; it should have been simple, it was just signing a document, but he couldn't seem to do it. He could hardly grasp the pen with his unsteady hands. Too much had built up inside of him, and he wished he could scream—it usually seemed to help—but he couldn't do so without raising alarm.

“Do you need some help with that?”

August looked up through bleary eyes to see Wilhelm standing by the door.

“I’m fine really.” He tried to pick up the pen again, but it slipped from his grip again.

“You don’t seem fine, here let me help.”

“there’s nothing you can do, okay, it’s just me. I can’t hold this fucking thing.” He bit his lip.

“Let’s take a break, you can come back to this later.”

“But-”

“You need to take a break, these can wait.”

Vincent's finger hovered over the call button, he’d been alone for two hours and he wasn’t sure how much longer he could take of his spiralling thoughts.

“Vincent? What’s up?” Nils’s soft voice was tinny on the other end of the line.

“i-it’s nothing, sorry I shouldn’t have called-”

“Hey, hey wait don’t hang up, talk to me.”

Vincent wasn’t sure whether it was because he felt safe around him or whether he could no longer contain his emotions that made him burst into tears.

“I’m sorry.” Vincent sobbed.

“don’t apologize, take a breath Vincent. Good, now tell me what’s going on.”

“August you can’t stay in here.”

“I need to- I just need to finish these okay.”

“let’s go for a walk, okay.  we need to talk.” There was something about his voice that reminded him of Erik, maybe it was the sternness, it was comforting, familiar, and yet it was softer than Erik could ever be.

Wilhelm led him out the door after giving him his coat. As he approached the path, he looked up to the trees which were covered in a layer of snow.  The air was crisp. Even though he was accustomed to the feeling of coldness, it still pricked his skin. He wrapped the scarf tighter around his neck.

“You can’t keep doing this, it’s gotten out of control August.” Wilhelm's voice cut through the silence, the anxiety still evident in his voice.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” The defensive tone filled August's voice.

“You don’t sleep August; you’re working all the time-”

“I have it under control-”

“No, you don’t, you’re going to burn out and I can’t face that again. I can’t August. You need to slow down; you can’t keep doing this.”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about, you don’t know anything about me-”

“I know that your struggling, fuck, you can barely eat August. You need to see a therapist.”

“What so they can tell me what I already know? They can’t do anything!”

“You need to try, if not for yourself then please do it for me, for Erik.”

“You need to talk to him, Vincent.”

“I- I don’t think I can face that again.”

“you need to try.”

Chapter Text

Vincent's thumb jabbed frustratedly at the screen of his phone, he chucked the phone across his bed before running his hands frustratedly through his hair. No matter how hard he tried the words just wouldn’t come out the way he wanted them too. It should have been easy, he’d texted August for years, their messages always flowed so naturally, but then August just stopped. And so, the rift formed.

He’d spent hours typing and re-typing and yet it still felt wrong. Maybe it was all pointless, he probably wouldn’t answer anyway. What was the point in trying. Nils’s words stayed in the back of his brain “you need to try.” Vincent had always been a quitter; it wasn’t something he was proud of. Whenever things got too hard, he would give up, he had always been like that. And yet he couldn’t bring himself to give up on August. And so, he picked up his phone again.

August stared at the growing pile of documents on his desk, sighing he picked the top one. He shouldn’t have let Wille convince him to take a break. It was a waste of time, time he should have spent working. He noticed a piece of scrap paper next to the pile of documents, a number scrawled across the lines in Wille’s handwriting. He picked up the number, he didn’t need to talk to anyone he was fine. He dropped the number in the bin under his desk, before continuing with his work. He was fine, he didn’t need any help.

“Vincent, you need to get up, you can’t stay in bed all day.” Nils’s voice echoed through the wall. “I’m going to the shop, you should come” Vincent knew there was no point arguing so he put on a pair of joggers and an old hoodie.

“August, I’m going to the shop, you should come. It’ll be good for you to get out.” Wille smiled softly from the doorway where he was stood.

“I really can’t, I’m sorry but I need to finish there.”

“Please, you need a break, besides it won’t be for long.”

August didn’t have the energy to argue, and he couldn’t let Wille down again, so he agreed to go. It was a stupid idea really, entering a space full of nauseating smells of fresh pastries and shelves stacked full of temptations. But he couldn’t say no, now.

As August entered, all eyes turned to him. Of course they would he was the crown prince after all. Beads of sweat gathered on his brow. He combed his fingers through his hair nervously. Wilhelm had already gone in ahead of him, so he was just left standing alone in the doorway.

Wille turned back to him, a small supportive smile graced his face. He knew what it was like, in a way no one else knew. Even though he had abdicated, the media still clung to him and the public eye still stayed on him, although not in the same way. And yet he seemed to be fine, he wasn’t shaking, not like August was.

Although August had grown up in the public eye, it was never in the same way as Wille. Sure, he was royalty, but barely. Now he had been thrown full force into the deep end, this is what he had always dreamed of. This is what he wanted.

“August?” this time it was Nils not Wille.

“Sorry, I should really be going. This was a mistake. If you see Wille, tell him I’m sorry.”

“Hey, wait.”

But August had already gone. August had always been fast; it was a trait he’d always been praised for. In another life he could definitely have been a runner, but he wasn’t. he used to race his dad, but then he succumbed to his addiction, and he stopped being around. He could barely have a short conversation with him, yet alone ask him to race him. some of his fondest memories where of their races, soaking wet from the rain and covered in mud they would return to the house only to be scolded by his mother. But his dad always took the blame, even if it was August’s idea to start splashing the mud.

“-can- feel- hand” August couldn’t focus, his breathing was shallow, and his hands were shaking. The voice was soft and familiar, but he couldn’t quite place it, through the haze. The hand was placed on his chest, long fingers spread across his quivering body. August nodded uneasily. His eyes darted around; he bit his lip before inhaling.

“Good, y- doin-s-well Agge. Jus- keep liftin-my hand.” August loved that nickname, not because of the name itself but because of who said it. Blue eyes, soft skin, that stupid nickname. Vincent. August flinched away. He wasn’t supposed to see him like this.

“it’s okay Agge.” No, no it wasn’t okay.

“i-I have to go, i-i.”

“Wait, I need to talk to you. Please.”

He was too late; August was already gone. Again. He wouldn’t let him go this time. Vincent had never been much of a runner, maybe that’s why he chose running. He was never particularly fast, he got breathless too easily. Running wasn’t something he enjoyed, at least not in the same way August did. But he couldn’t let him go again. And so, he ran.

August grabbed onto a nearby post, his ears were roaring, and the nausea clung to his throat choking him. He couldn’t think, his brain enveloped in a thick fog. He could feel the sweat dripping down his brow.  The feeling was all too familiar.

“August.” Vincent panted. “-are- are you okay, y-you look pale.”

“I’m fine-”

“-August, Agge.”

August couldn’t open his eyes; everything was far too bright; his eyelids were heavy. He could feel a strong grip around his waist. He couldn’t remember what happened, he remembered seeing Vincent approaching, then everything went black.

“-get help!”

“What- what happened.” August tried to get up but fell back onto the harsh granite.

“Hey Agge, just stay there, okay. help is coming.”

A wave of nausea rushed through his body; he could feel the bile pushing its way up his throat, threatening to spill out what little cereal he had eaten. He swallowed thickly.

“V-Vincent. I-i don’t feel good.”