Chapter 10 #4
"Don't want to waste it," Hal admitted, even as his eyes grew heavier. He pressed closer, tangling their legs together under the blankets. "Don't want to miss anything."
Jakobs quiet laugh rumbled through his chest. "Not going anywhere." His arms tightened around Hal, protective even half-asleep. "Promise."
Hal knew they shouldn't sleep like this—knew the risk of discovery grew with every minute Jakob stayed. But the steady beat of Jakob's heart under his ear was better than any lullaby, and the warmth of his skin made Hal feel safe in a way nothing else ever had.
The last thing Hal registered before sleep took him was Jakob pressing one final kiss to his temple, murmuring something soft in Russian that sounded like a prayer.
October 23, 1939
Gray light filtered through the curtains as Jakob blinked awake.
God, he was so warm. He couldn't remember the last time he'd felt this completely warm, his body wrapped in warm blankets, and warmer skin.
Harald's arm draped across his chest, warm and solid.
The weight of it anchored him, pulling him down into the feather bed beneath them, made him feel sheltered in a way he hadn't since before he'd left Russia.
A glance at the clock on the wall showed 4:15 AM. Time to get up for chores.
"Have to go," Jakob whispered, trying to slide out from under Harald's arm.
"Too early." Hal murmured, snuggling his nose into the soft, wispy hair at Jakob's neck. "It's still night."
He turned and smiled down at his sleepy prince, face creased from the pillow and golden hair mussed with sleep. "I wish it were." He said, brushing his fingers across the warmth of Hal's cheek. "But the ladies will be wanting milking and their breakfast."
Harald pulled Jakob down against him again, pulling his head into the comfort of his shoulder. "Stay." His voice was rough with sleep. "The cows can wait."
"They really can't." But Jakob didn't move yet. He traced his fingers along Harald's forearm, memorizing the feel of his skin.
"I'm a prince. I order the cows to wait." Harald nuzzled into Jakob's hair, his breath warm.
"I'm sure that they'll be very convinced." Jakob smiled despite himself.
"They should be. Why would you want to go out? It's freezing out there." Harald pulled the blanket higher around them both. "Here it's warm. Safe."
The word caught in Jakob's chest. That was what he felt here, in the warm of Hal's arms. He felt safe. Even knowing that there was no safety here for either of them. But this feeling; this warmth and understanding, feeling treasured and known. He felt safe.
"Five more minutes," Harald murmured.
Jakob closed his eyes, allowing himself to sink into the moment. The warmth and solidity of Harald's body, holding his. The steady rise and fall of Harald's chest against his back. The soft brush of his lips on Jakob's shoulder. The way their legs tangled together beneath the blankets.
But the sky outside grew lighter. With a sigh, Jakob sat up and swung his legs over the side of the bed.
The floorboards were cold when he stepped away from the bed, searching for where they'd strewn his trousers when they'd finally removed them, between their second and their slow, sweet third round of pleasure.
"You're impossible," Harald grumbled, propping himself up on an elbow to watch Jakob dress.
"Someone has to be practical." Jakob pulled on his trousers and reached for his shirt. "Go back to sleep, my sweet Prince. I'll see you when classes start."
The corridor outside Harald's room felt arctic after the warmth of his bed. Jakob's boots echoed against the stone floors as he crept through the silent halls.
Jakob pressed himself against the wall, listening for the telltale boot steps of the night patrol.
The academy's strict curfew meant guards checked the senior cadets' corridor twice each night.
He'd never taken a risk this great before—staying the entire night was different than hiding in the hayloft after the ball or brief stolen kisses during the school day.
He knew which stairs creaked, which doors were left unlocked for early-rising staff, which windows in the east wing could be eased open without triggering the groundskeeper's attention.
One wrong move could mean demerit points at minimum, expulsion at worst if they found him leaving the prince's quarters.
But the memory of Hal's sleep-warm body curled against his, the quiet vulnerability of his prince with mussed hair and pillow creases on his cheek—that was worth every risk.
Worth memorizing patrol schedules and mapping escape routes.
Worth the cold journey back to the farm in the pre-dawn darkness.
To see Harald that way, unguarded and completely his, Jakob would risk far more than his place at the academy.
The first ray of sun broke over the horizon, shattering the frost into diamonds, breaking the spell of possibility. But for just a moment longer, Jakob held onto that dream, carried it with him like warmth against the pre-dawn cold.