"I won't." He hugs him. "I love you."

Soft warm kisses. "I want to take you to a theme park."

"What's a theme park?"

"There's candy, and shows, and rides that go really fast or drop you really far or have things jump out at you, and people dressed up in costumes pretending to be my mom."

"...Your mom specifically? Why???"

"...Did you miss that you're dating a prince?"

"...I mean, no, not exactly, although now that you mention it I'm pretty confused about where you're a prince of and how your... life... works."

"Auradon is made up of a bunch of smaller countries, all of which have their own governments. My dad used to be prince of one of them, Maldonia. But then he spent like fifteen years drinking and partying and having a mind-boggling amount of sex with both men and women, and his parents disowned him. He met my mom, which is a really long story, and they wound up opening a restaurant in Louisiana. So I don't have any money or political power but I do have the nifty title and fame and party invitations and the ability to figure out whether people are assholes based on what patronymic they use."

"Huh. Okay. And your mom got famous enough to... be on the list of people who get impersonated at theme parks...? I am so confused about theme parks."

"The end of the long story about my mom is that she wound up stopping four hundred thousand people from getting tortured for eternity."

"That's a thing that happens?????"

"Well, not anymore. --Don't summon extradimensional entities and trade them other people's souls for magic powers. There are better ways to get magic powers."

"I already have magic powers! I have the best magic powers! —well, I can think of better magic powers to have, but these ones are pretty fucking good."

"We did eventually manage to resurrect Dr. Facilier, so maybe we would have been able to resurrect all of the people of New Orleans, but probably not."

"Anyway. No trading in souls, got it." Kiss. "Trading in souls would make Ben sad probably. —aw man, I do love him, don't I."

"He's very lovable!"

"He iiiiiiis," he says, smiling wistfully. "—did you ask him if he wants to try going on a date with me, and if so did he tell you to fuck off—"

"I didn't! You have to ask him on dates yourself. It's chivalrous."

"That's not—I can't just—the thing I want you to find out is whether it is okay for me to even ask."

"He was worried that you might dislike him."

"Well did you tell him I don't or am I supposed to do that too?"

"I told him that you did not dislike him for saying no to sex with you or for having conflicted feelings about it."

"Do you get why I'm—why I don't feel like I can assume things are okay anymore?"

Hugs. "Yeah."

Hug. "I love you. —I also don't really know how to ask someone on a date. Is my apartment still totally destroyed? I guess I kinda live at yours now anyway. Does it count as a date if we're in your living room playing Sugar Rush?"