Chapter Text
“Sir, it’s time to wake up.”
Carlos opened the curtains, letting the morning light enter the room, before turning to the bed and the soft grunt that he heard.
“It’s too early, let me sleep just five more minutes,” protested the man, still half-asleep, tugging on the sheets to escape the light.
“You say that every morning, sir.”
Carlos fought a smile. It was the same thing every day, and the normality of it had a certain softness that never failed to make Carlos feel at peace.
Once all the curtains were opened, he went back to the trail he had brought with him when entering the room. The food had already been prepared by the palace’s kitchens, and Carlos put everything, as always, on the table in the adjacent dining room. He was just finishing pouring a cup of coffee when soft steps made him straighten up, and this time, he couldn’t help the little smile on his lips when the prince entered the dining room, his hair a mess and the desire to sleep still present in his eyes half opened behind his glasses.
“Good morning, sir,” smiled Carlos, while Jannik sat down, immediately going for the cup of coffee.
“Good morning, Carlos,” answered the prince, taking a small sip, and Carlos, just like every time, felt butterflies in his stomach.
Being in love with a prince has never been a clever thing. Being in love with a prince while being the bodyguard - and the handyman - of said prince was even less clever. It was, quite frankly, the most stupid thing the Spaniard has ever done.
Unfortunately for him, he couldn’t do anything about it and had accepted that fact a long time ago. The heart wants what it wants, or whatever the saying was.
Ignoring the longing of his heart had become something Carlos was quite good at, and, like every morning, he stayed next to his prince while the latter had his breakfast, slowly becoming more awake. Jannik never liked to be rushed in the morning, and, after years of working for him, Carlos had managed to find a routine that slowly woke Jannik without him being late for any early morning meeting.
“The king asked for your presence at lunch, sir,” said Carlos, once Jannik seemed to be able to function properly.
“Did he ?” asked the prince, the surprise briefly appearing on his face.
And what a pretty face… Maybe being a bodyguard had its perks: Carlos could be watching Jannik all day long, counting the freckles on these lovely cheeks, and nobody would say anything. After all, looking for the prince was his job, and Carlos was nothing short of serious about his job.
“He did. I am not privy to the reason for this, though,” added Carlos, while giving the prince the daily newspaper.
The prince’s phone, on the table, was already silently buzzing with news notifications, but Carlos knew that Jannik preferred to read them on paper in the morning - a long time ago, he told Carlos the screen light, too early in the day, was hurting his eyes, even with the glasses Jannik always had on his nose when he was in his rooms. Hence, the newspaper Carlos always brought with him when waking up the prince.
Carlos could be lightheaded sometimes, but never when it was about Jannik. At the very beginning, he used to say it was to do his job as best as he could. Four years later, Carlos had long stopped lying to himself about that sort of thing. He was an idiot in love, but at least he was the best at his job because of it.
And, to be honest, Carlos was certainly not the only one in this situation: half of Italy, if not all Italy, was in love with the prince, so it was not like the Spaniard was an exception.
But anyway. As always, Carlos followed Jannik now that he was completely awake, going on with his day. The morning jogging was uneventful, the sky blue, and the wind a nice breeze that made Carlos relaxed while he ran behind his prince, still keeping an eye on the surrounding area. He was not the only one in charge of Jannik's safety, the palace having a whole department dedicated to the royal family's security, but he was in charge of Jannik in his everyday life.
Maybe the prince didn’t like that in the beginning - especially when he learned that Carlos was younger than him, but after weeks of cold treatment, Jannik had slowly started warming up to him. Now, Carlos liked to think that even if they weren’t exactly friends, they were at least something. Jannik trusted him, sometimes even confided in him, and in exchange, Carlos did everything he could to make the prince’s life easier, even if Jannik wasn’t aware of it.
After all, seeing him smile when Carlos would give him a coffee from his favorite coffee shop in between meetings never failed to make the Spaniard feel butterflies in his stomach. He was maybe used to doing way more than just being a bodyguard, but it was for Jannik, so Carlos would continue to make sure the prince’s laptop was always fully charged, and that no event - or, well, the least possible amount of events - were planned at the same time as a Formula 1 race.
And seeing his prince’s red curls freely bouncing on his forehead while he was running under Rome’s morning sun was a pretty bonus too.
After their run, said curls were carefully styled, and Carlos repressed a sigh when he rejoined Jannik in his office, the bodyguard a silent presence entering the room. He wanted nothing more than to run his fingers through the soft red hair, but alas, that was definitely not in his job description.
“It’s time to go, sir,” he said instead, lunch time approaching a bit too close for his liking. He prided himself on having the prince right on time everywhere, whether it was only for a simple family lunch, or a big reception with half of the European royalties.
Jannik blinked, before frowning and closing his computer. “Well, I guess I’m done for the morning, then.” The prince stood up, quickly tidying his desk, before leaving his study, Carlos on his heels, opening and closing the doors for him. “Do you have any news on why my father wanted to see me ?”
Carlos shook his head, following the prince through the palace corridors. “I didn’t get any further information. But considering your agenda, my best guess would be something to do with the reception in Austria this weekend”.
Jannik hummed in response, while Carlos opened the doors of the family’s dining room. The king was already there, and the Spaniard bowed, before taking his place, next to the king’s bodyguard. Darren gave him a small smile, which Carlos returned, and the lunch passed quietly. As Carlos predicted - and he was starting to get really good at foreseeing these kinds of things - the king wanted to talk to Jannik about the Austrian reception.
It was not the first time that Jannik had to represent the royal family in place of his parents or his older brother, but the king had always taken the time to go through the guest list with Jannik to make sure that the prince was not missing anything on anyone. The conversation then switched to lighter subjects, and Carlos zoned out, happy to just listen to Jannik’s voice and the little laughs that escaped him sometimes.
Maybe his own parents were quite surprised, and doubtful, when, at fifteen, Carlos had told them he wanted to be part of the Italian royal family’s security, but right now, looking at Jannik, and the smile on his face when he chatted with his father about the last tennis tournament, Carlos felt only glad.
Well, maybe not: Carlos was still making a mental to-do list of the things he needed to make sure of for the prince’s trip to Austria. Being Jannik’s bodyguard was, in the end, more about fighting plannings than people.
“I think we should hit the court.”
Jannik's voice interrupted Carlos’ thoughts, and he lifted his head from his computer to look at the prince.
“The court, sir ?” Asked Carlos, a bit surprised.
It was, after all, unusual for Jannik to want to play in the evening. Most of the time, when Jannik wanted them to play, it was in the morning, just after their morning run, when the sun was not too high in the sky, but the temperature not too fresh.
“Yes. I’m not sure we will have time to do it this weekend,” said the prince, closing the book he was reading, and Carlos nodded.
“We probably won’t,” confirmed Carlos, before saving the document he was writing for the security department. “Should we meet in, hum, ten minutes outside of your rooms, then ?”
“That works for me,” smiled Jannik, and, oh, Carlos' heart missed a beat.
“Perfect,” he answered, maybe a bit too late, before taking his laptop with him and leaving the prince’s library, the pretty smile of Jannik erasing all the previous thoughts about emergency exits and security cameras.
Carlos shook his head once in his room, which was just on the other side of the corridors. Years had passed since he first saw the prince’s smile, but he was just as affected as the first time - maybe just way better at hiding it. If there was something Carlos was forever grateful for, it was that Jannik didn’t remember how fifteen-year-old Carlos totally ceased to function in front of him, the first time they met. That day, the prince had, unknowingly, changed Carlos’ whole world. He had longer hair, the freckles on his nose were a bit darker, but his smile was exactly the same, and Carlos fell in love at first sight.
And years later, the feeling was just as strong, but Carlos was now able to power through it. That said, he was no more clever than when he was fifteen years old: proof is, he just accepted to go play tennis at nine in the evening instead of finishing the work he was supposed to do.
The Spaniard sighed, before putting his laptop on his desk, and going through his clothes to find some shorts, a tee-shirt, and a hoodie that were more appropriate to wear for a tennis game than the white shirt and black dress pants he was currently in. Carlos put in a small bag two bottles of water, some cereal bars, and another hoodie, just in case, before putting on a pair of Nike.
After a brief hesitation, he also took a phone charger and closed the door of his room behind him.
He didn’t have to wait long for the prince to exit his own rooms, all dressed in black gear and a cap hiding away his curls. A shame, really, because Carlos loved seeing his prince with his hair falling on his forehead.
“Ready, sir ?” asked Carlos, a smile on his lips, and Jannik smiled at him in return.
“Ready. I will win tonight, you better be prepared.”
Carlos couldn’t help laughing lightly at this, shaking his head while they took the direction of the outdoor courts of the palace.
“I won’t make it easy for you, but you can try, sir,” and, really, Carlos made an effort to keep his smile normal, and not the beam that threatened to split his face.
For his defense, it was hard, for the Spaniard, to keep his natural enthusiasm in check. He was the kind of person who always smiled, and had been raised in a family where love, laughs, and happiness had always been loudly expressed.
It was something quite different in the Italian royalty - well, in the royal families in general. At the beginning, it didn’t cause problems for Carlos: he was new at his job, and very, very stressed about not being able to satisfy Jannik or meeting the expectations a royal bodyguard was supposed to meet. So yes, in the first months - the first year, even -, while he dearly loved his new job and the proximity of the one he started to call “his prince” in the privacy of his thoughts, Carlos’ joie de vivre has been quite… stifled.
But things were not the same anymore. Carlos had proven to be good - being great, even, at his job. His relationship with Jannik had warmed up, and he made new friends, inside and outside the palace. Carlos had flourished, and suddenly, it became not quite as easy to keep his energy in check. Of course, when he was working, things were different because he was solely focused on having Jannik in his sight and looking out for anything that might arm him.
But when the lines were a bit blurred, like right now, as Jannik and he were warming up and trading easy balls, it was harder for Carlos to remember the prince was, well, the prince, and not just the guy with a beautiful smile who he wanted desperately to flirt with.
And kiss. And more.
Okay, Carlos should really be more focused on the yellow ball that just passed right by him.
“Well, I will definitely win if you play like that, Carlos !” Smiled Jannik, on the other side of the court.
“I was just starting, sir !” Protested the Spaniard, before taking a deep breath, moving his feet slightly to be ready for the prince’s serve.
Jannik or not, Carlos was competitive, and he was good at tennis. Very good. Maybe not as good as when he was a kid, but still. When the ball came at him the next time, he was ready and quickly moved to send it back to the prince, fast and hard.
Jannik missed it by a centimeter, and he turned back to Carlos, arching an eyebrow.
“That seemed more like you,” he laughed, and this time, Carlos couldn’t help but beam at him.
“I told you I wouldn’t make it easy for you!”
And, just for an evening, Carlos forgot that Jannik was the prince, and played with glee, just happy to feel the clay under his feet and the strain in his muscles to get to the ball.
The Spaniard never regretted the path he left, but he had to admit that he was glad the prince loved tennis, and that he could play with him often.
“Merda!” Swore Jannik when he missed a ball, and Carlos had a small laugh, hands on his hips, while he tried to catch his breath.
“I think I won this game, sir,” smiled Carlos, a warm feeling diffusing in his chest when he saw Jannik rolling his eyes.
His prince, most of the time, had a really good poker face. Jannik didn’t show his feelings, except in front of his family and close friends. But when they played together, he was so much more open, and Carlos cherished these moments that felt so special to him - and made him fonder of the prince, if that was even possible.
Carlos wanted these times to never end, but he was Jannik’s bodyguard before anything else, so when he realized how late it was, he straightened up, going to the side of the court to take his bag.
“I think it’s becoming a bit late, sir. We should call it quits for tonight,” said Carlos, starting to clean up their things, before giving the prince one of the bottles of water.
Jannik thanked him, nodding before emptying half the bottle. “Yes, I think you tried to kill me in the end,” laughed quietly Jannik, and Carlos could only smile at him, willing his hands to stay at his side instead of doing something completely inappropriate, like tucking the prince’s hair behind his ear, now that he had taken off his cap.
“I’m pretty sure killing you is the opposite of my job,” chuckled Carlos, and Jannik laughed again, giving the bottle back to Carlos, who put it in his bag. “Do you need a sweater ?”
“Please,” said Jannik, and Carlos handed it to him.
It was one hoodie that was slightly too big for him, but was a good fit for the prince. Carlos had, to be honest, a bunch of clothes that were more made for the prince than for him, just in case Jannik needed them.
Carlos was maybe a bit too cautious, but then again, he was in love, and good at his job.
“Time to go to bed, then,” said Jannik, putting his hands in the front pocket of the hoodie, and Carlos’ heart melted.
“I guess it is,” answered Carlos, taking his bag, before opening the door of the court for the prince. “After you, sir”.
“Thank you.”
Jannik smiled, and the Spaniard followed him, like the bodyguard he was. Or like a lovesick puppy -, after all, for Carlos, it was two sides of the same coin.