Chapter:11 No More Leaving Me Ever Again.

The morning sunlight spilled through the curtains, stretching golden fingers across the sheets. Mark stirred, groaning softly as warmth pressed against his back—a familiar weight, steady, secure. Jay.

"You're awake," Jay murmured against his neck, his voice husky from sleep.

Mark exhaled a sleepy chuckle. "Hard not to be when you're practically glued to me."

Jay only tightened his grip, burying his face into Mark's shoulder. "You were gone for a month. I'm making up for lost time."

Mark felt the corners of his lips twitch. "So… this is a calculated effort?"

Jay hummed. "Mhm. I call it the 'No More Leaving Me Ever Again' plan."

Mark laughed outright this time, twisting in Jay's arms so they were face to face. Jay's hair was a mess, his eyes still heavy with sleep, but the way he looked at Mark—like he was something irreplaceable—stole the air right from his lungs.

Mark let his fingers skim over Jay's cheek, tracing the faint lines of exhaustion that still lingered. "Missed me that much?"

Jay's expression flickered—something raw, something vulnerable, before it vanished behind a smirk. "Terribly," he admitted, voice softer now. "You don't know how quiet everything was without you."

Mark's teasing died on his tongue. He did know.

Their foreheads brushed. Mark breathed him in, feeling the rise and fall of Jay's chest against his.

"Then I guess I'll have to stay," Mark whispered.

Jay's smirk widened. "You better."

At the office, things had changed—but not in an obvious way.

Jay wasn't one for grand gestures, but Mark noticed the little things.

Like the way Jay pulled him closer when they stood together at his desk, leaning over to point at reports that didn't actually need pointing at. Mark wasn't sure if Jay even realized he was doing it, but the warmth of his presence lingered even after he stepped away.

Or the way his coffee always tasted exactly right. Jay never asked how he took it, never made a show of it, but somehow, his cup was always there before Mark could even reach for it—extra sugar, just the way he liked it.

Then there were the stolen moments.

The elevator doors slid shut, and before Mark could press the button for their floor, Jay was on him—hands gripping his waist, lips brushing against his jawline.

"Jay—"

"You had sugar on your lips," Jay murmured, completely unapologetic.

Mark arched a brow. "That so?"

Jay smirked, stealing another kiss, slower this time. "Mhm."

The elevator dinged, and they stepped out like nothing happened—except for the way Mark's heart was hammering in his chest.

It was infuriating. It was unfair.

It was Jay.

And Mark wouldn't have it any other way.

---

At the Office

Monday morning came too soon.

Mark walked into the office with Jay beside him, their shoulders brushing as they moved. The moment they entered, all heads turned. The whispers started almost immediately.

"He's back."

"Did you hear? Jay actually went to find him."

"They must really be serious."

Mark's stomach tightened, but he kept his face neutral. Jay, however, didn't even try to hide his irritation. His grip on Mark's wrist tightened slightly—a silent reminder that he was there.

Sarah, their colleague, grinned as she approached. "Mark! Welcome back! How was the village?"

Mark exhaled, grateful for the normalcy in her tone. "Different. Quiet. But it was… nice, in a way."

Sarah smirked. "Nice enough to make Jay lose his mind and go after you."

Jay rolled his eyes. "I don't have time for this." He tugged Mark toward his office, but Sarah called after them, "By the way, Mark, the boss wants to see you. And no, I don't mean this boss."

Jay halted. "What?"

Mark blinked. "The company's director?"

Sarah nodded. "Yep. Seems like something big. Better not keep him waiting."

Jay's jaw tensed, but he sighed. "Fine. Go. But come back immediately after."

Mark chuckled. "Yes, sir."

The director's office was grand—sleek, minimalist, with floor-to-ceiling windows showcasing the city skyline.

Mark stood before the desk, hands clasped, waiting.

The director studied him for a moment before speaking. "Mark, I've been reviewing your performance, especially your recent work in the village. You did excellent work in Green Hollow he said. Your dedication and ability to handle complex tasks under pressure didn't go unnoticed."

Mark nodded, unsure where this was going.

"I'd like to offer you a job. We need someone with your skills in a managerial role."

Mark's breath caught. A job? He hadn't expected this. "I—thank you, sir. I'm honored."

"You will be working outside town with your team. It's a big project, and there's an apartment for each staff member. More importantly, you'll be the boss there, and the pay is higher than what you're earning now. It's a great opportunity, Mark. Grab it."

Mark didn't hesitate. "I'm sorry, sir, but I have to decline."

Mark let out a slow breath. Once, he would have considered it. Once, ambition might have driven him to accept without hesitation.

But now?

He smiled politely. "I appreciate the offer, sir. But I have to decline."

The director blinked. "Are you sure? This is—"

"I'm sure." Mark stood, bowing slightly. "Thank you for considering me, but my place is here."

The director raised a brow. "I won't accept an immediate no. Think about it. Give me your final decision tomorrow."

Mark hesitated but nodded. "Understood, sir."

With this he head out of the office.

---

Jay's worry about mark, he couldn't sit, he keeps wondering, why the director call mark.

By the time Mark returned to the office, Jay was waiting.

"What did he say?" Jay asked immediately.

Mark waved him off. "Nothing serious."

Jay frowned. "Mark."

"It's fine," Mark insisted, brushing past him.

But Jay knew him.

Something was off. Mark wasn't the type to be evasive—not with him. Jay narrowed his eyes, his mind already racing.

That evening, he called Sarah.

"Do you know what the director wanted with Mark?"

Sarah didn't hesitate. "Yeah I do, he offered him a managerial role at the other branch. It's a huge deal. Most people would kill for that position."

Jay went still. "…Outside town?"

"Yep. Comes with an apartment and everything."

A weight settled in Jay's chest.

Alright he look pale.

The next morning, he stood next to mark while eating breakfast he didn't wait for Mark to bring it up.

"I know about the offer," Jay said why you didn't tell me about it. "Do you want to take it?"

Mark turned to him, eyes unreadable.

"It's a great opportunity, Mark," Jay continued. "I can't stop you if you want to go."

Mark studied him for a long moment. Then he asked, voice quiet, "Would you be okay if I left?"

Jay's lips parted, but no sound came out.

Silence.

Then, finally—Of course ...."No."

Mark's shoulders relaxed slightly. His next words were steady, unwavering.

I don't want to leave,

"I can't live without you," he said. "I don't care how big or important the project is. You're the most important person to me."

Jay swallowed hard. His heart was pounding.

"Me too," Jay whispered. His arms wrapped around Mark, holding him close. "I can't live without you either. You are my everything, Mark."

Mark exhaled against his shoulder. "I already rejected it. But the director wanted me to think it over. I'll tell him my final decision tomorrow."

Jay pulled back just enough to look at him. His expression was unreadable, but his hand found Mark's, fingers lacing together.

"You know what to say," Jay murmured.

Mark squeezed his hand. "Yeah. I do."

The next morning, Mark entered the director's office with steady steps, his decision firm. The director leaned back in his chair, watching him expectantly.

"I appreciate the offer, sir," Mark said, meeting his gaze. "But I've decided to stay."

The director's expression remained unreadable. "Are you sure? This is a rare opportunity."

"I am," Mark confirmed without hesitation.

A long pause stretched between them before the director nodded. "Very well. If you ever change your mind, the door is still open."

Mark thanked him and left, his chest lighter now that it was settled. As he stepped into the office, his gaze immediately found Jay, who was waiting near his door. The moment their eyes met, something unspoken passed between them.

Jay didn't ask—he didn't need to. Instead, his fingers brushed against Mark's as he walked past, a fleeting touch, but one that sent a warmth spreading through Mark's chest.

Mark barely had a moment to breathe before Jay was beside him, his presence a quiet, steady force throughout the day.

In the morning, when they went over reports, Jay stood closer than usual—so close that the faint scent of his cologne, crisp with a hint of spice, curled around Mark. Every time Mark shifted, Jay's fingers would brush against his, lingering for just a second too long before pulling away.

At one point, as Mark scanned a document on Jay's desk, a warm hand settled at the small of his back—not urgent, not forceful, just there. The touch sent a ripple through Mark's spine, awareness prickling beneath his skin. He swallowed, willing himself to focus on the words in front of him, but his mind was elsewhere.

Later, when Jay set a cup of coffee beside Mark's keyboard, Mark blinked at the familiar, slightly uneven layer of sugar at the surface. He stirred it once, took a sip, and nearly smiled.

Perfect.

He glanced up to find Jay watching him, arms crossed. Their eyes met, and something unspoken passed between them.

Mark opened his mouth, but before he could say anything, Jay turned away, his ears slightly red.

And then there were the stolen touches—fleeting, but unmistakable.

The press of Jay's palm against the small of Mark's back as they stepped into the elevator. The way his fingers trailed over Mark's wrist during a meeting, absentminded yet deliberate, as if reassuring himself that Mark was still there.

By lunchtime, Mark wasn't imagining it anymore.

Jay was relieved.

"Here's Sarah come

"Let me guess," Sarah said, arms crossed, watching Mark with a smirk. "You turned down the offer."

Mark blinked. "How did you—"

"Oh, please." She rolled her eyes, stepping closer with an amused look. "We all knew you weren't going anywhere. But I'm dying to know—was it the job that wasn't tempting enough, or was it someone that made you stay?"

Mark scoffed, shaking his head. "Sarah—"

"Don't even try to deny it," she cut in, grinning. "You and Jay aren't exactly subtle. The whole office can feel the shift in the air. He's been acting extra nice since this morning. You really had him sweating, huh?"

Mark felt heat creep up his neck, but he refused to give her the satisfaction of a reaction. "I stayed because I like working here," he said simply.

"Uh-huh," Sarah drawled, her smirk widening. "And that's why your boss has been hovering around you all day, looking like someone who just dodged a heart attack?"

Mark let out a tired sigh. "Are you done?"

Sarah chuckled. "Fine, fine. I'll back off—for now. But you owe me coffee for making me sit through all this unspoken tension."

Mark shook his head, but he couldn't hide the small smile tugging at his lips.

Friday evening arrived with a crisp breeze rolling in from the outskirts of the city. Mark barely had time to pack up for the day before Jay appeared beside him, fingers curling around his wrist with quiet insistence.

"Come with me."

Mark arched an eyebrow. "Where exactly?"

Jay didn't answer. Instead, he pulled him along, his grip firm yet gentle.

They drove in comfortable silence, the hum of the engine blending with the faint rustle of wind against the windows. The roads stretched away from the city's bright chaos, leading them somewhere quieter, somewhere only Jay seemed to know.

When they finally stopped, Mark stepped out of the car and inhaled deeply. The scent of fresh earth and water filled his lungs. Before them stretched a secluded lake, the surface rippling under the glow of the setting sun.

And in the middle of it all—a carefully arranged setup.

A thick blanket spread over soft grass, a small lantern flickering beside neatly packed containers of food. A bottle of wine rested nearby, its deep crimson hue catching the fading light.

Mark turned to Jay, his heart skipping a beat. "You did all this?"

Jay shrugged, but there was an almost imperceptible shift in his expression—a flicker of something raw, something hesitant.

"You've had a long week," he murmured, his fingers brushing against Mark's in a way that felt intentional. "I thought you deserved something nice."

The words were simple, but they settled deep in Mark's chest, warm and solid.

They sat together, the quiet between them comfortable as they ate. Mark savored every bite, occasionally glancing at Jay, who, despite his usual reserved nature, had softened in the low evening light. There was no rush—only the sound of water lapping against the shore, the distant hum of crickets, and the warmth of Jay's knee pressing lightly against his.

After a while, Jay reached into a bag beside him, hesitated, then pulled out a carefully wrapped package.

"Here," he said, handing it over without explanation.

Mark took it, his fingers grazing Jay's in the exchange. As he unwrapped the paper, his breath hitched.

A framed painting of the village.

Every detail was there—the gentle slope of the hills, the golden hue of the fields, the tiny rooftops nestled under the vast sky. It wasn't just a picture. It was home.

At the bottom, in Jay's precise handwriting, a note was attached:

"No matter where we go, home is where we're together."

Mark swallowed, his throat tightening as emotion surged through him. He traced the frame's edge with his thumb before looking up at Jay.

"You really did this?" he asked, his voice quieter than he intended.

Jay's gaze flickered away for a second, but then he met Mark's eyes again. "I know how much the village meant to you," he admitted. "I wanted you to have something that reminded you of it."

Something in Mark cracked open at that.

Setting the frame aside carefully, he reached forward, fingers sliding into Jay's hair as he pulled him in. Their lips met—not hurried, not desperate, but slow and lingering, as if Mark were trying to pour everything he felt into that one moment.

When they finally pulled apart, Jay exhaled softly, his forehead resting against Mark's.

"You're not allowed to leave me again, got it?"

Mark chuckled against his lips. "I'm not going anywhere."

And for the first time in a long while, he knew it was true.

After They Got Home

The drive back was quiet, the air between them filled with something softer, something unspoken. When they stepped inside their apartment, the city's distant hum barely touched the quiet warmth of their space.

Mark set the framed picture on the nightstand, running his fingers over the glass once more before turning to Jay.

Jay was already watching him, his tie loosened, sleeves rolled up, looking more like his Jay—no CEO, no guarded walls, just the man who had gone to the village for him, the man who had waited.

Mark smiled. "You're staring."

Jay didn't deny it. Instead, he stepped closer, his fingers finding Mark's wrist, tracing slow circles against his skin—just like he had done earlier in the office.

Mark felt the warmth of his touch seep into him, grounding him. "You okay?" he asked softly.

Jay hummed, tilting his head slightly. "You stayed."

Mark's breath hitched, understanding the weight behind those two words. He reached up, threading his fingers through Jay's hair, tugging him down until their foreheads touched. "I'll always stay."

Jay let out a quiet chuckle, his arms sliding around Mark's waist, pulling him flush against him. "Good," he murmured before capturing Mark's lips in a slow, lingering kiss—one that tasted like relief, like home.

The framed picture stood silently on the nightstand, a reminder of everything they had fought for, everything they had chosen.

…but steady, lingering, as if sealing something unspoken between them. Jay melted into the kiss, his hands finding Mark's waist, pulling him closer. The lake, the fading sunset, the soft rustling of leaves—all of it blurred into the background.

When they finally pulled apart, Jay rested his forehead against Mark's, exhaling slowly. "You're staying," he murmured, almost as if he still couldn't believe it.

Mark let out a quiet laugh. "I already told you, I can't live without you."

Jay didn't respond right away. Instead, he reached up, fingers brushing against Mark's jaw, his expression unreadable—until a smirk curled at his lips. "Good," he whispered, voice teasing yet thick with something deeper. "Because I would've chased you down if you left."

Mark arched a brow. "Oh? So that whole 'I won't stop you if you want to go' speech was just an act?"

Jay shrugged. "Had to keep my dignity intact, you know?"

Mark laughed, shaking his head, but before he could reply, Jay tugged him back in, their lips meeting again—this time slower, deeper, as the last remnants of daylight melted into the horizon.

And in that moment, with Jay's warmth against him and the soft hum of the world around them, Mark knew—this was exactly where he was meant to be.