The morning light was different this time. It didn't feel like a cold blade cutting through the room; it felt like a golden blanket, warm and heavy.
When Jake's eyes flickered open, he didn't immediately move. He stayed still, savoring the familiar scent of the Rockwell condo—that mix of expensive wood, clean laundry, and the faint, lingering trace of the man he had traveled thousands of miles to find.
He reached out a hand across the "sacred border," expecting to touch a warm, scarred shoulder, but his fingers met only the cool, smooth texture of the bedsheet. Markus was gone.
Jake sat up, a small frown touching his lips, but as he moved, he realized something. He wasn't just lying on the bed; he had been meticulously tucked in.
The heavy duvet and the top sheet had been wrapped around him with a surprising, almost surgical care, cocooning him against the chill of the air conditioning. It was a silent, gruff gesture of protection that made Jake's heart do a slow, dizzying roll in his chest.
"Still the same Markus," Jake whispered to the empty room, a soft smile spreading across his face.
He kicked off the sheets and stood up. His body still felt the phantom weight of the jetlag, a dull ache in his joints from the frantic travel, but the adrenaline of being back was a more powerful stimulant than any royal espresso.
He didn't bother with a robe. He padded out of the bedroom barefoot, his footsteps silent on the polished concrete floor.
As he rounded the corner into the open-plan living area, the sound of sizzling reached his ears.
Markus was in the kitchen. He was wearing low-slung grey sweatpants that hung precariously off his hips, his feet bare against the floor. He was topless, his broad back a landscape of muscle and memory, the morning sun catching the intricate lines of the tattoos that mapped his history. He was focused, hunched slightly over the stove, a kitchen knife in one hand as he expertly diced spring onions on a wooden board.
Jake felt a surge of pure, unadulterated affection. Without a second thought—and certainly without any regard for royal decorum—he tiptoed across the kitchen tiles. He moved like a cat, holding his breath until he was directly behind the larger man.
Then, he lunged, wrapping his arms around Markus's waist and burying his face between those wide, warm shoulder blades.
The reaction was instantaneous. Markus stiffened, his entire body coiling like a spring. He didn't drop the knife; he held it aloft, the steel gleaming in the light.
"Goddammit, Jake!" Markus barked, his voice a low, startled rasp. He didn't turn around, but Jake could feel the vibration of his heart thudding through his back. "I told you about the sneaking! One of these days, I'm going to forget you're a Prince and I'm going to stab you with this knife. Do you want to go back to your kingdom in a body bag?"
Jake didn't pull away. Instead, he let out a bright, melodic laugh, his grip tightening around Markus's solid midsection. He could see the tips of Markus's ears from this angle, and to his absolute delight, they were turning a vivid, betraying shade of crimson.
"You wouldn't stab me," Jake teased, his voice muffled against Markus's skin. "You tucked me in. I felt it. You are a secret romantic, Markus Saavedra. It is a very poorly kept secret."
"I was preventing you from shivering and waking me up with your whining," Markus grumbled, though he finally lowered the knife and set it back on the cutting board.
"Now, get off me. I'm making fried rice. It requires focus and both of my hands."
Instead of obeying, Jake felt a spark of mischief ignite. He stood on his tiptoes, leaning in until his lips were brushing against the shell of Markus's ear. Then, with a boldness that would have made his equerry faint, he gently bit down on Markus's earlobe.
Markus went absolutely still. It was as if someone had hit a pause button on his entire nervous system. He didn't move, didn't breathe, didn't even blink. The only sign of life was the deepening red of his neck and ears.
Jake pulled back, his eyes dancing with triumph. He laughed again, a light, airy sound that filled the sterile kitchen with life. "You are frozen! The Great Markus is paralyzed by a little nibble?"
Finally, Markus found his voice, though it was strained and dangerously quiet. He slowly turned around, his dark eyes burning with a mix of embarrassment and a very real, simmering heat. He pointed the wooden spatula he was holding directly at Jake's chest.
"Listen to me, you blonde menace," Markus growled, though the effect was somewhat ruined by his flushed face. "I am about two seconds away from opening that window and fulfilling my promise from weeks ago. You will behave. You will sit on that stool. You will eat your breakfast. Or I will personally escort you back to the airport and hand-deliver you to whichever guard is looking for you. Are we clear?"
Jake held up his hands in mock surrender, still grinning. "Perfectly clear, Boss. I shall be a paragon of virtue. For at least ten minutes."
He hopped onto the high leather stool, watching as Markus turned back to the stove. They ate breakfast in a comfortable, albeit charged, silence. The garlic fried rice was salty and perfect, paired with the sweet, cured meat Markus called tocino.
Markus didn't ask the big questions. He didn't ask why Jake had vanished or where he had gone. He simply ate, his posture guarded but present. However, Jake realized it was time to stop being a ghost. He pushed his plate aside slightly, his expression softening as he looked at the man across from him.
"My real name is Jacob," Jake began, his voice quiet but steady. "And you weren't wrong when you called me a Prince. I am the Crown Prince of my kingdom."
Markus didn't look up from his rice, but his fork slowed.
"At first, I ran away because I was terrified of the responsibility," Jake continued, a self-deprecating smile touching his lips. "I wanted to be anyone else. But honestly, Markus... knowing you, even for those first three days, changed something in me. I realized I couldn't just hide forever. I grew up a little bit, I think. So I went back to face my father and negotiate. I went back so he wouldn't hurt the people who helped me. But I begged for this. I begged for a vacation so I could come back here."
Markus finally set his fork down and leaned back, crossing his arms over his bare chest. He didn't look shocked. In fact, he looked remarkably unfazed.
"You're not surprised," Jake noted, tilting his head.
"I had a hunch," Markus grunted, his dark eyes scanning Jake's face. "I've spent my life around all kinds of people, from the bottom to the top. You carry yourself like someone who's never had to ask for permission to exist. You're a Prince, Jake. I knew that before you even opened your mouth to confirm it."
Jake blinked, a look of genuine surprise crossing his features. "How? I thought I was being so discreet."
Markus let out a short, dry puff of a laugh. "It's not just the clothes or the way you talk. It's the way you look at the world like it's supposed to entertain you. Plus, I'm good at reading people. You can't survive where I've been if you can't tell the difference between a stray dog and a lion in a dog park."
Jake beamed, the light in his eyes outshining the morning sun. He felt a weight lift off his shoulders—the final secret was out, and Markus hadn't bowed or treated him differently. If anything, the scowl remained exactly as it should be.
"I'm here for thirty days" Jake said, reaching across the table to touch Markus's hand. "No protocols. No titles. Just... this."
Markus looked down at their joined hands. His thumb traced a slow, cautious circle over Jake's knuckles. "Thirty days. Well. You're still a nuisance. And you're still a brat. But I guess I can handle thirty days of you breaking my plates."
Jake laughed, the sound bright and hopeful. "I shall try not to break anything, Markus. Except perhaps your 'sacred borders'."
Markus grunted, squeezing Jake's hand briefly before standing up. "Good luck with that, Your Highness. Those borders are reinforced with steel."
"We shall see," Jake whispered to himself, watching Markus move. "We shall see."