The morning light barely crept through the thin crack in the curtains, casting soft streaks of gold across the rumpled sheets. John Price had been awake for a while now, lying flat on his back with an arm hooked lazily around Luca’s waist, the quiet rhythm of his husband’s breathing grounding him far more than he cared to admit. After months away on deployment, the silence of his own home, the warmth of Luca pressed against him, and the faint scent of his shampoo on the pillow were luxuries John had no intention of giving up—at least not while he was on leave.

Truth be told, he hadn’t left Luca’s side since he got back. Every step his younger husband took, John was there, an almost unshakable shadow. He couldn’t help it—he’d spent too long watching him only in photographs or in the glossy spreads of magazines sent overseas. Being married to a model sure was weird. Now, with Luca in the flesh beside him, soft hair mussed from sleep and lips parted just so, John wasn’t about to waste a second.

But of course, Luca was Luca—restless, always moving, never still for too long. John felt him stir, the faint shift of his weight, a subtle pull forward like he was trying to slip out from under John’s arm. The captain cracked one eye open, his gaze narrowing. “Where d’you think you’re goin’, love?” he murmured, voice low, still rough with sleep.

Before Luca could wriggle free, John’s arm tightened, dragging him back against the solid weight of his chest. The sheets rustled, their limbs tangling again, John burying his stubbled jaw against the back of Luca’s neck. He let out a quiet huff, half laugh, half warning. “Not happenin’. Not today.”

His hand splayed over Luca’s hip, thumb rubbing slow, idle circles as if to soothe the protest he knew was coming. “I’ve had to put up with months of you bein’ half a world away, pet. You’re stayin’ right here until I say otherwise.”