Page 16 of The Frog Prince (The GriMM Tales #6)

Eight

Otto

T he rest of the night passed in a pleasant, dreamy hum, allowing him to float until morning light was peeking through the curtains and a faint buzz at his ear was dragging him to wakefulness.

He blinked his eyes open, realizing he was curled on his side, his numb arm hanging off the edge of the bed as if he was reaching for something.

He groaned, pulling the heavy appendage back with some effort, only noticing the curled figure on the floor at the last moment.

The prince.

The sight of him didn’t make him recoil as he once had, especially with sleep still clinging to him. Instead, the position the prince was in made him look vulnerable, and Otto found himself feeling sorry he had made him sleep on the floor like that.

He was in a half-seated position, legs bent out in a way no human could sustain, his head resting against the side of the bed Otto was sleeping in. His long, thin arms lay in between his legs; fingers curled into loose fists, one cradling something round in his palm that Otto couldn’t make out.

He was still fully clothed in his shirt and outer tailcoat, the collars high and digging into the flesh of his chin. Otto wondered at his comfort and how he could stand them.

Maybe he couldn't.

There was a soft scrunch to the unfamiliar features, and a crease on his green forehead left by the wooden bed frame he was slumped against.

Otto watched him slumber for a while with a hazy, considering gaze, remembering just how calming it was to have him close. Talking to him, telling him silly stories until the nightmares faded into nothing and Otto could sleep again.

Monsters didn’t protect others from bad dreams, did they? They caused them, starred in them. So what did that make the prince?

He didn’t know just yet.

Without his consent, his hand reached out toward the crease in the prince’s forehead, wanting to smooth it out, feeling responsible for its presence there.

He was close enough to feel the coldness of his skin before those wide, bulging eyes snapped open and the prince looked at him upside down from his position.

His huge, slitted pupils expanded as they took in the scene—Otto leaning over him, his hand reaching out for him, the early morning sun painting spots on the bed and their skin.

“I do not mind waking up like this,” the prince said, the rasp and croak of his voice even rougher after sleep. It scratched something deep and primal in Otto’s body, waking it up with a flash of heat.

He rushed to sit up and tuck the blankets around himself before the prince could notice, looking away as his face bled pink. “Good morning,” he said loudly, awkwardly.

A croak that sounded suspiciously like laughter filled the room.

“I hope you slept well?” the prince said politely.

“Yes.” Otto answered quickly. “Perfectly well. And you?”

The prince looked down at his own body on the floor, then up at Otto’s mortified face. “Delightfully.”

Otto wanted to pull the blankets over his head and disappear.

The air strained with the silence, Otto not knowing what to say and the prince staring at him expectantly.

Otto shifted under his attention, feeling himself flush and squirm with every inch his gaze moved along his body. From his face, over his neck and chest, down to his legs, bent under the blankets to conceal his growing problem.

Had the prince run his eyes over him like this while he slept unawares? Admired him? Coveted him? Desired him? Had he thought about joining him on the bed, sliding under the covers to bring his dreams to life?

He bit his lip, breath stuttering in his chest as his mind ran away from him, slipping through his grasp faster than he could catch it. His cock throbbed in response, and he dug his fingers into the mattress, fighting the urge to buck up under that gaze, to seek friction or beg for attention.

Madness. This is madness.

The high-pitched buzz that had awoken him came again, and a speck of something dark flitted across the edge of Otto’s vision. Before he could register it, a thin pink tongue lashed out like a whip and scooped the buzzing thing out of the air.

Otto snapped his head toward the Frog Prince, finding him wide-eyed with his lips pressed thin.

A far more awkward silence developed as Otto rationalized what he’d just seen and the prince pretended it had never happened.

“Did you just…?”

“Certainly not.”

“I’m quite sure—”

“Your eyes must be deceiving you.”

“I think my eyes are just fine.” The previous tension shattered as Otto fought not to laugh at the prince’s mortified expression. “Hungry?”

The prince turned his head like he had done last night and swallowed, dabbing at the corners of his lips with the tips of his fingers.

“My apologies,” he said, looking everywhere but at Otto. It was oddly sweet, his embarrassment. A far cry from the intimidating presence he’d met in the forest.

“At least I don’t have to worry about your breakfast now.”

“This was hardly an appetizer,” the prince said, lifting his chin as he clearly fought to regain some of the regality he had just lost.

“I am certain there will be more buzzing around. Help yourself.”

“Hilarious,” the prince said, and as huffy as he seemed to be, Otto felt like the action helped them restore some semblance of normalcy between them. Whatever ‘normal’ was set to be between a man and a Frog Prince.

“We should get ready for the day,” Otto said, figuring that was as good a place to start as any.

The prince unfolded smoothly from his crouch, brushing himself off like the tattered finery he was wearing was still pristine, straightening his threadbare waistcoat over his thin chest. “Very well. I shall wait for you downstairs.”

That made Otto pause.

“Would you like to borrow some clothes?”

It burst from his lips in an instant, impossible to stuff back in. The confused and surprised look the prince gave him as he glanced back over his shoulder made him not want to.

“For me?”

The way he questioned a simple kindness made Otto feel ashamed.

“Yes. I don’t have much, but you’re welcome to it,” he said quietly.

The Frog Prince didn’t move for a long, suspended moment. Eventually he looked down, humble and affected. “Some clothing would be appreciated.”

Otto didn’t know why his heart hurt.

He decided to escape instead, leading the way to his room and barely avoiding clipping the door in his haste. He tried not to look back over his shoulder to make sure the prince was following, not knowing why he wanted to keep him in sight.

He didn’t feel scared, so why did it matter?

Clearing the doorway to his room, he pushed those thoughts aside as he glanced around for any signs of change. Not even the bedsheets were disturbed.

He frowned. “Did you not sleep?”

“You found me on the floor with my eyes closed.”

Otto flushed and looked at him. “I meant before you… Before my nightmare woke you.”

“I’m unused to beds,” the prince said, leaving it at that.

Wanting to push but not knowing how, Otto walked to his dresser and opened it, removing some clothes for himself before gesturing. “Take anything.”

The prince stepped up alongside him, their arms brushing and making Otto inhale sharply.

Long fingers sifted through the fabrics, searching and considering, and Otto was entranced watching everything he had imagined last night play out right in front of his eyes.

The prince eventually decided on a simple dark-blue shirt and some dark knee-length breeches, clutching them in his hands and looking at Otto.

Otto, who stood glued to the spot, staring at him as if waiting for his clothes to come off while he was still in the room with him.

“I’ll…I’ll leave you to change,” Otto muttered, practically running from the room and into his sister’s, leaning back against the door. “What is happening to me?”

No one answered him.

Rushing to change into his own clothes, he was barely down the stairs, still slipping his braces over his shoulders when there was a knock on the door.

Worried, Otto threw a look up the stairs before creeping over and opening it a sliver. He breathed a sigh of relief when he saw Gisela’s familiar face.

“Otto!” Gisela cried in relief. “Are you all right?”

She tried to push the door open and enter, but Otto stepped out instead, shutting it behind him.

“That should be my question,” he said, looking her over with worried eyes. She seemed healthier again, with pink cheeks and clear eyes.

“I am back to perfect health,” she said, “so do not distract me from the matter at hand!”

“I’m fine, Gisela. You needn’t worry.”

“Needn’t worry?!” she gasped, hitting him in the chest. “The Frog Prince spent the night in our home and I needn’t worry! I didn’t sleep a wink!”

Otto stepped forward, trying desperately to hush her as he looked around for anyone who might overhear them. “Gisela, keep your voice down,” he hissed.

“There’s no one around. Not that they would believe it even if they did overhear,” Gisela scoffed.

“I don’t wish to take that risk, in any case. So promise me you will speak of this to no one.”

“I already promised last night,” Gisela said, exasperated with him. “I had to lie to Liesel.”

Otto winced. “I’m sorry.”

“What are you so worried about?” Gisela’s sharp eyes cut through him. “Others have gone to the Frog Prince before you, foolish as they were. Surely they would understand your reasoning if they knew? Especially Liesel.”

Otto couldn't explain the sudden worry in his heart or the need to keep the prince’s presence here secret, he just knew that the feeling wouldn’t let him rest.

“I think it’s for the best that the prince passes through this village unseen and unheard,” Otto said. “There’s no need to stir anything up.”

“Gunther died late last night,” Gisela said abruptly.

The news was like a knife in his chest. “W-what?” he gasped.

Gisela’s eyes were shiny as she nodded. “He passed after a bad fit from his falling sickness. His family is in mourning.”