In hindsight, it had not been one of Jarred's best plans.

"Run, Jarred, we must run," Endon hissed from behind him, confirming what Jarred had been thinking. He hitched up his stolen trousers and did as he was told. Together they raced from the kitchens. Jarred risked a look back at his friend and almost doubled over in laughter at the sight of Endon trying to balance the four-layer cake in his hands while he ran.

"You really could help me, Jarred!" Endon panted.

"You said that we cannot risk stopping," Jarred said cheekily, electing to ignore Endon's snort of annoyance.

"If we get caught, it will be all your fault!"

There was nothing Jarred could say to dispute that. The king and queen were holding a great feast that would be followed by a night of dancing and merriment. It was a party that Jarred and Endon had pointedly not been invited to. Naturally, that had meant that Jarred was all the more interested in an event that he otherwise would have, in all likeliness, chosen not to attend. But they had heard rumours of the particular grandness of this feast and the decadent food that was to be served. It had been of little trouble to lift clothes from the servant's quarters, although it had certainly hurt Jarred's pride to rub the makeup from their faces and replace it with just enough dirt from the gardens to make them look dishevelled but not filthy. In the end, stealing the cake had been easy, for there had been thirteen exactly like it, and the cooks were too preoccupied with their work to notice two more servant boys with their heads down slipping through the kitchens. Yet, as they left, Endon had yelped in fear, sure that he had heard someone cry out in alarm.

"I do not think there is anyone chasing us," Jarred said as they ran, "You just worry too much!"

"Even if we are not caught, do you think they will notice the missing food?" Endon asked anxiously. "I would not want to get any of the servants in trouble."

"They will not," Jarred promised. "Did you not see the mountains of food? But, if it will make you feel better—"

The corridor they were running through mostly housed supply rooms. Jarred grasped the doorknob of the nearest one and thanked his lucky stars that it was unlocked. It was certainly his job to reassure Endon and his fears, but that did not stop him from feeling anxieties of his own. He waited until Endon pushed his way inside the room, still precariously balancing the cake. Jarred then closed the door, crouching low on the floor. Endon set the cake down gently, no doubt in fear of cracking the delicate porcelain it rested upon. His elbow brushed Jarred's as the boys sat together on the floor, and Jarred was aware of how little light shone through the space between the wall and the door, and of how very close he and Endon were in the small room. Endon placed his hand on his arm and Jarred fought the urge to suck in a sharp breath.

There had been changes in their friendship in the recent months, made of lingering glances and touches that lasted a little longer than they had used to. It was not something they talked about. But the boisterous roughhousing that they had always engaged in seemed to last a little too long, and sometimes Jarred would look at Endon, only to find that the other boy had already been staring right at him.

Jarred was suddenly very conscious of the weight of Endon's hand on his arm; of the quiet sound of his breathing, and of the closeness of his body.

"Do you think they saw us?" Endon whispered, his breath hot on Jarred's cheek.

Jarred turned, his nose so very close to Endon's chin. "Even if they did, they would have no reason to think that it was us they had seen. Who would believe that the prince would run around the palace looking as if he had just crawled out of a barn?"

Endon scowled, his pout barely visible in the shadows. But after a moment his lips began to twitch, and he could not help the laughter that tumbled from his lips. Jarred swore under his breath and pressed his hand against Endon's mouth to silence him. His heart caught in his throat as Endon trembled in silent mirth. When he was sure that his friend's laughter had subdued, Jarred moved his hand away.

"Hush, Endon," he said dryly. "Quiet yourself with some cake." He procured a stolen fork from his pocket and passed it to Endon. Endon took it dutifully and scooped a forkful of chocolate from the top layer, letting his eyes flutter back in his head as he ate, no doubt for Jarred's amusement. Jarred rolled his eyes and snatched the fork back.

"You look like a fool," Jarred told him with a quiet laugh. He leaned in a little closer. The shadows made Endon's eyes look black, and Jarred swallowed hard.

Endon smiled at the jest and Jarred eyes flickered to the crumbs that had stuck to the corners of his lips. Without thinking, he reached his hand out and brushed them away with the pad of his thumb. Endon's eyes widened but Jarred found that he could not pull his hand back. Instead, he let it trail down Endon's recently acquired stubble, and then back up and into his thick, dark hair. He met Endon's eyes again, and the prince's lips seemed to part of their own accord. Jarred leaned in, and—so softly, so gently—pressed his lips against Endon's. For a moment Endon froze, and Jarred's heart leapt. He prepared to pull away with a thousand apologies and excuses on the tip of his tongue, but Endon's hands rose slowly and wrapped around his neck. Jarred did not miss the way his hands trembled, but still Endon pulled him closer. He tasted of chocolate cake and the milk tea they had drank earlier in the afternoon and Jarred felt entirely intoxicated by him.

Jarred had never kissed anyone before, and he was made painfully aware of it. Endon's nose knocked awkwardly into his own, and when Jarred tilted his head their teeth clacked noisily together. But Jarred curled his hands further into Endon's hair, and he could have happily spent the rest of his life enveloped in that sweet kiss, until he realised with an ache that breathing was still an unfortunate necessity.

"Oh," Endon whispered softly, when Jarred finally pulled away. Even in the darkness, he could see the flush of Endon's cheeks and the way in which his lips had swelled from the pressure of their kiss.

"Oh?" Jarred was not one to succumb to nerves, but the anxious flutter of his heart betrayed him.

"That was…" Endon blinked like an owl. "That was… very nice."

Jarred withdrew from Endon's arms. "Very nice?" he repeated, almost bitterly. He was not yet sure that he knew what love was. The very word seemed too grand, like something from a story. But he knew what friendship was, and he knew that what he felt for Endon was something much more than that.

"Jarred," Endon's hands ghosted across his jawline, and it was Jarred's turn to tremble. Endon looked away, suddenly reserved. But when he turned back, his eyes were bright. "I liked it very much."

"You did?" Jarred was still a little breathless. "Good."

Endon smiled, perhaps a bit dazed, and still a little shy. "You are very beautiful, I hope you know."

Jarred's heart still pounded in his chest, but he pushed all of his anxieties away and grinned boldly. "Oh, I do."

Endon laughed and pulled him close again.

In hindsight, it had certainly been one of Jarred's best plans.