[ Jack knew from the second it was proposed that David take the throne that this would happen. He'd known from the nights they'd spent lying around and talking in his aparment, and David's murmured annoyances with how Shiloh runs that Jack only smiled at as he pushes his fingers through David's hair. From the fact David couldn't comprehend Jack's fear of being outed to Gilboa's free press, and couldn't stomach the things he learned as more and more of Silas and Rose's nature were revealed. As much as Jack believed that David would be an incredible king, and the best thing to happen to this land, he knew there would come times that it would break him. He wasn't raised for this life, and while that is what makes him perfect for it, it's also what makes him too vulnerable for it.
Michelle and Jack, who were bred for court, can be someone they aren't in front of a camera as easy as breathing, help as much as they can. Are quick to step in when David's grasp is slipping, and take as much of the unnecessaries out of his hands as they can. It's not always enough, and Jack recieves a text from his sister as a warning, a simple summary of some new disaster, and it's a long moment Jack takes, leaning back in his office chair and running the back of his knuckles across his lips. He wonders if this will be the breaking point. Even Silas had had his secrets, and while Jack's fairly sure David's too honest to have a secret misters and a child hidden out in the country from him and the rest of Shiloh, it does concern him that he doesn't have something. Refuses to. Wants to carry the world on broad, overly strained shoulders. Well, if Jack is committed to anything else, it's to protect David when he's too dense to do it himself.
He doesn't move from his office, only waits for him. David knows where to find him, and if he needs him, David knows he's more than welcome to come. The pound of graceless footsteps on the marble floors outside resound, as do the voices of the guards, and their retreating taps before his doors are flung open, revealing the King himself.
The door locks, and Jack stands, having mentally prepared himself for this before David arrived. There's no smoothing out of his suit jacket or tie, no regal fixing of buttons, just a lift, and his arms held out to meet the hand reach for him, and the body that crumbles against his chest. An arm folds under David's, wrapped aroud his ribs to run his open palm up and down the length of David's spine, soothing, as the other weaves into his hair and Jack's lips press against his King's temple, linger with eyes closed. He holds him tight and close, steady in his footing so that David can lean as much weight on him as he likes. Unconsciously, he rocks some, side to side, like a mother soothing a child in the way Rose never did to him. ]
Shh. I'm here. You're alright. [ He mumbles comforting words against his cheeks, pressing kisses here and there; his forehead, his temple, his jaw, his cheekbone, his ear. When he eventually feels David's breathing even out a bit, he speaks up. ] Come on. I made something for you.
[ He lifts David's face enough that he can see an adoring, soft smile on his lips, before pressing a kiss to him, sweet and simple, and absolutely in love with him. ]
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Michelle and Jack, who were bred for court, can be someone they aren't in front of a camera as easy as breathing, help as much as they can. Are quick to step in when David's grasp is slipping, and take as much of the unnecessaries out of his hands as they can. It's not always enough, and Jack recieves a text from his sister as a warning, a simple summary of some new disaster, and it's a long moment Jack takes, leaning back in his office chair and running the back of his knuckles across his lips. He wonders if this will be the breaking point. Even Silas had had his secrets, and while Jack's fairly sure David's too honest to have a secret misters and a child hidden out in the country from him and the rest of Shiloh, it does concern him that he doesn't have something. Refuses to. Wants to carry the world on broad, overly strained shoulders. Well, if Jack is committed to anything else, it's to protect David when he's too dense to do it himself.
He doesn't move from his office, only waits for him. David knows where to find him, and if he needs him, David knows he's more than welcome to come. The pound of graceless footsteps on the marble floors outside resound, as do the voices of the guards, and their retreating taps before his doors are flung open, revealing the King himself.
The door locks, and Jack stands, having mentally prepared himself for this before David arrived. There's no smoothing out of his suit jacket or tie, no regal fixing of buttons, just a lift, and his arms held out to meet the hand reach for him, and the body that crumbles against his chest. An arm folds under David's, wrapped aroud his ribs to run his open palm up and down the length of David's spine, soothing, as the other weaves into his hair and Jack's lips press against his King's temple, linger with eyes closed. He holds him tight and close, steady in his footing so that David can lean as much weight on him as he likes. Unconsciously, he rocks some, side to side, like a mother soothing a child in the way Rose never did to him. ]
Shh. I'm here. You're alright. [ He mumbles comforting words against his cheeks, pressing kisses here and there; his forehead, his temple, his jaw, his cheekbone, his ear. When he eventually feels David's breathing even out a bit, he speaks up. ] Come on. I made something for you.
[ He lifts David's face enough that he can see an adoring, soft smile on his lips, before pressing a kiss to him, sweet and simple, and absolutely in love with him. ]