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| "But I came to love you, am I born to bleed? Any old time you keep me waiting. Waiting, waiting..." |
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“I can feel you staring at me.”
“I'm just wondering how I got so lucky.”
Mark's shoulders stiffen, and Jack almost wishes he hadn't said it. Almost.
The sun pours through the window as Mark opens his eyes, lighting them like liquid amber. Jack's heart clenches as he leans down to kiss him on the forehead, but Mark surprises him by tilting his head up and connecting their lips. He braces a hand on the bed and Mark's hand comes up to wrap around his neck, pulling him down gently before he finally resigns to laying back beside him.
“Don't you have somewhere to be now?” Mark asks him quietly. “Some sort of court business?”
“Not until noon,” Jack hums. “Shouldn't you be getting breakfast?”
Mark breathes out, and Jack thinks it may be a laugh, given the soft smile on his lips. He moves to pull back the covers and get up, but Jack holds him there, tugging him back by the wrist. “I'm not hungry. Stay.”
But Mark doesn't quite come back. That air is back again. Jack can feel the argument coming on as Mark murmurs, “Jack...”
“Mark, it's okay,” the prince says. “You shouldn't worry so much.”
“It's not...” his servant tries, voice wavering. “It's not proper, J—your highness.”
Jack's grip on his wrist tightens. “Don't call me that.”
Mark pulls away. “No, there isn't any reason I shouldn't. You're a prince, God, you're the prince, Prince Sean McLoughlin. And I'm just—I have to--”
He stops, and Jack can feel him contemplating his next set of words.
“If it's the social status that's the problem,” Jack says. “I can fix that. I can do something about that. Give you land, give you a position in the court. Ma and Dad might get miffed about it but they won't say much, especially if you keep me out of trouble.”
Mark whirls on him. “I don't want you doing any of that! You don't have to shower me in favors as if I'm some mistress!”
“I'm not suggesting that,” Jack growls. “Mark, I—I just...I don't want you to feel like...like you're just...someone to warm my bed. I don't do that. Only you...”
The implication of the words hang, and Mark's shoulders sag. He looks much more tired than he had at the beginning of the conversation. As if he's carrying more than he's letting on.
Jack knows Mark has secrets. It's in the scars on his back, stomach, arms, hands—everywhere. Mark says it's because he grew up on a farm, and a lot of stuff happens in the outer villages, but Jack knows better. But he's never pressed. It's not his place to ask. Mark will tell him if he ever wants to.
“You're not some mistress to me,” Jack tugs at him, and Mark relents, sliding back into bed. The heat of his skin is comforting. “You'll never be a mistress to me. And I'm not your prince. You're Mark. I'm Jack. That's all we are.”
“No, it isn't,” Mark murmurs. “You'll always be Prince Sean. And I'll—I'll always be--Mark. It's the way it has to be. You can never be with me, Jack. It'll never work. And you know it won't.”
He knows. Oh God, Jack knows. But he wants it. He wants it more than anything. Mark is the only thing that's ever truly been his—the only person that's never treated him as a pawn. He's not of any less value to Mark, he's a person to Mark, not just the almost unheard of prince.
“Then I won't be a prince anymore,” Jack mumbles, reaching out to touch Mark's cheek. “If you don't want me to be.”
Mark laces their fingers together. “What are you talking about?”
“I'll give up my crown,” Jack shifts closer, and almost immediately Mark pulls him into his arms. “We can run away together. I have a friend in the north. Owns this empire of a business, so he could easily help us earn a living. If I quietly abdicate any ties to the family, no one will ever know. We could live in peace.”
“No,” Mark hisses, almost too quickly for comfort. He pushes Jack away, releasing him from his hold. “Absolutely not. No. You can't. We—we can't. No. It's not happening, Jack.”
“Why not?” Jack fires back. “Mark, the life of a prince isn't for me. It's never been for me. All I do is sit around and look pretty and I'm going to be handed off to the most beneficial court lady when the time comes for that to be necessary. And I'd be ten times happier working for everything I own with you. Mark, I--”
He stops himself, before the words leave. Or maybe they get caught. He can't be sure. He bites down on his lip and for a moment, Mark looks so utterly crushed. Jack has a hard time reading Mark's emotions, but in that moment he looks more hurt than he ever has. As if someone important to him has died. He wants to say something.
But he doesn't. Mark just keeps shaking his head as if Jack has committed some great crime. Maybe to Mark, he has.
“I don't want to talk about this anymore,” Mark says, tiredly. “I have to...go take care of things.”
His servant begins to get up again, and Jack thinks maybe he should let him, but once Mark hesitates, Jack says, “Stay.”
Mark doesn't move. So Jack tugs him back and as he turns, Jack kisses him again. Mark is almost tentative in responding, as if holding himself back, but he can't fathom out why. So he kisses him harder, more fervently, and Mark seems to lose control.
He pushes him back against the bed and Jack tangles his fingers in his hair, pulling, and tilts his head to allow Mark better access to his neck. His lover's teeth graze the sensitive skin, and he groans, sucking in a breath, before Mark's lips find his once again.
“Stay,” he breathes, as if Mark is going to leave now, in the middle of kissing him. But he feels like he needs to, he feel like if he doesn't say it, he'll blink and Mark will be gone. And he can't risk that. He can't take that chance.
Mark swallows, closing his eyes as if to stop an influx of emotion he doesn't want him to see. Jack still doesn't understand why. Mark doesn't bother to answer him, though, as his fingers slowly map out his body, and he shivers in anticipation.
He doesn't make it to his noon appointment.