Jock Next Bed (BL)
Chapter 209: Royal butler

Chapter 209: Royal butler

Chris had checked his room. The balcony. Even the garden terrace out. But there was no sign of Sky anywhere.

He was starting to worry.

"Where the hell did he go?" he muttered, descending the grand staircase with growing restlessness.

He hadn’t run away, had he?

No. He wouldn’t.

Chris had spent his time since he got here helping his father settle in. Not that he had much to do anyway. But he was with him. Until he wasn’t and had to go shower. He missed his room. The home. The quiet. Peace. And hope he had now.

After going through stupid conversations in his head so he doesn’t behave awkwardly again, he had gone to find Sky. But he was nowhere— wait.

Then he heard it. A clipped voice floating through the hall near the formal dining room on the first floor.

Chris rounded the corner—and froze.

There, seated stiffly at the long, polished dining table, was Sky. Still in his full suit, shoulders tense, lips pressed together like he’d rather be anywhere else in the world. And next to him, standing with the air of a royal tutor, was Leon, the young man who had introduced himself earlier as the one "in charge" of Sky. He was gesturing over the table like he was training a servant, not speaking to a guest. The irritation and frustration on his face was also clear.

"You hold the stem, not the bowl. Elbows off the table. Yes, like that. Chin up—posture must be controlled. It gives an impression of—"

"What the fuck is this?" Chris’s voice cracked like a whip through the room.

Leon blinked, startled but still composed when he turned to him. "Mr. Owen. I was only helping—"

"Helping?" Chris’s voice rose, hot and sharp. He stepped fully into the room, his presence a storm. "Who gave you the right to treat him like this?"

Leon’s calm began to fray. "I thought it would be helpful. He seemed unfamiliar with the protocols, and I assumed—"

Chris stepped closer, eyes glinting. "Assumed what? That he’s beneath you? That he couldn’t figure out where the fork goes without your little TED talk?"

Leon’s tone didn’t change. "Mr. Owen, your parents have a reputation for—"

"Did Sky look like a goddamn neanderthal to you? Like some primitive who needed your gracious guidance on how to survive the terrifying world of spoons and napkins?"

Chris’s eyes fell to Sky, who shifted in his chair, caught between wanting to stop Chris and hiding the curve of a smile threatening his lips.

Leon stiffened, but before he could respond, Chris rounded on him again. "If Sky wants to eat with his bare hands, he fucking can. He doesn’t need your approval. Or your lessons."

Leon’s face tightened. "I meant no offense—"

"Offense taken," Chris cut in. "Take the week off. Starting now."

Leon opened his mouth, flustered, but Chris didn’t let him get a word in.

"Get out. Before it gets even longer."

Leon straightened with the last of his dignity and exited the room without another word.

Chris’s hands were trembling. He turned back to Sky, who was looking up at him now, half-wide-eyed, half... amused.

"You didn’t have to go that hard," Sky murmured.

Chris dropped into the seat beside him, his jaw still tight. "I always hated that guy."

Sky tilted his head. "What if I wanted to learn the proper fork?"

Chris gave him a sideways look. "Then you ask. You don’t get condescended to like you’re some zoo exhibit."

Sky exhaled and yanked the tie from around his neck, letting it hang loose in one hand. "Good," he muttered. "That guy was making me feel like a butler in a Victorian drama."

Chris didn’t laugh.

He stood there, silent for a beat too long, then let out a sharp breath. "I’m so, so sorry," he said, voice thick with frustration. "I didn’t think it would turn into... that. I swear I didn’t know, and my parents—"

He paused. His brows pinched together as a bitter doubt crept in. Did his parents really not know?

He shook his head slightly, jaw tight. He was sure his parents didn’t know either.

Sky rose from his chair with a shrug, trying to ease the tension. "It’s fine," he said, slipping into a grin that didn’t quite reach his eyes. "I mean, hey, got a five-star lesson on elite table manners. All for free. That’s a win, right?"

Chris still didn’t smile.

Not even a little.

He was watching Sky with a troubled look—one that deepened the longer he stared. "Sky..."

Sky threw his hands up, still smiling, but the corners of his mouth were tight. "Come on, Chris. It’s not a big deal. I mean, if I’d paid for a ’How to Eat Like a Prince’ crash course, I’m sure it would’ve cost me more than a flight across the state."

"Stop that," Chris said, quietly.

Sky blinked. "Stop what?"

"Acting like it didn’t get to you."

There it was. That gentle yet unrelenting part of Chris. The part that always saw through the cracks, even when Sky tried to laugh them off.

Sky hesitated. Then he shrugged. "Okay. Maybe it got to me a little. But what was I supposed to do? Punch the guy for teaching me how to use a salad fork?"

Chris stepped closer. "No. But you’re not supposed to sit there like you deserved it either."

"This is your home. Your world—"

"You’re not a fucking project, Sky. You don’t need to be cleaned up or trained or shaped into someone acceptable. You’re already—" His throat tightened. "You’re already enough."

Sky’s head lifted.

Chris swallowed hard. "If anyone tries to make you uncomfortable again, punch them. Hard. I’ll handle the mess."

Sky snorted. "What a prince."

That finally cracked a smile out of Chris.

He huffed a breath, then pulled Sky into a sudden, firm hug—arms wrapping tightly like he was trying to physically shield Sky from the rest of the house.

Sky closed his eyes and rested his chin on Chris’s shoulder.

"...Still gonna let me eat with my hands though?"

Chris let out a soft laugh against his neck. "You try it at dinner, and I swear to God, I’ll... join you."

Sky chuckled. "Bet."

Chris pulled back and rubbed the back of his neck. He eyed Sky up and down, then muttered, "Let’s go find you something actually comfortable to wear."

Sky nodded, still loosening the tie around his neck as they left the dining room.