Felix's eyes open slowly, blinking in the darkness. For a moment, he's disoriented—unsure what woke him or why that uneasy feeling is coiling in his gut.
Then realization hits.
*Jake.*
He sits bolt upright, suddenly wide awake. Something's happened, something's *wrong.* He can feel it through the bond… even in his half-asleep state.
Felix doesn't need anything else to spur him into action. He throws off the blankets in a tangle and climbs out of bed, heart pounding in his chest.
He doesn't even stop to get dressed. He just throws open the door and runs down the hall, barefoot and half-dressed, heading towards Jake's bedroom.
*Please be alright,* he thinks as he runs—fear coiling in his chest. *Please.*
Felix's breath is coming faster by the time he reaches the door to Jake's bedroom. He's already exhausted—not used to physical exertion—but adrenaline keeps him going.
*Something's wrong.*
Without pausing to knock, he bursts through the door—panting, half-dressed, disheveled, and *worried.*
"Jake…?" he calls out breathlessly. "Jake, are you okay? I—
The question dies on his tongue.
Felix takes a step inside, looking around the room through the shadows. It's quiet—*too* quiet.
"Jake?" he calls again—louder this time. His heart is racing—stomach in knots.
But there's no answer.
Felix takes another step inside, his worry intensifying. Something feels *wrong.*
"Jake," he calls again—louder, more urgently. "Jake, where are you?"
Silence greets him. The room is too still—no movement except for the curtains blowing gently in the open window.
Felix moves forward, a sense of dread sinking like a rock in his gut. Something is wrong—deeply, *terribly* wrong.
"Jake!" he calls out, voice cracking at the edges. "Jake, goddamn it, answer me!"
No one answers.
Felix swallows hard, fear beginning to twist and coil in his chest. He takes another step into the room, his eyes sweeping the shadows warily…
And that's when he hears it:
A low, rasping breath—coming from the bed.
"Jake?" Felix whispers, heart hammering.
He rushes to the bed—and freezes.
Jake is there, on his back—but his skin is flushed with fever. His chest heaves as he struggles for breath. His fingers are tangled in the sheets, knuckles white. And his eyes—half-open and glazed—are burning with a fire that isn't love.
It's *lure.*
The drug has taken full hold.
Felix drops to his knees beside the bed—hand flying to Jake's cheek, then jerking back at how hot he is.
"Oh god… not again."
Felix's hands are shaking, and for a moment he feels helpless. *This isn't real. It's just a nightmare.*
But the heat radiating from Jake's skin is all too real. The pain written across his face… the desperation shining in his eyes.
"Hey," he whispers, his free hand moving to brush sweat-slick hair off Jake's forehead. "Hey, hey, hey… look at me."
Jake groans, eyes fluttering but not opening.
"C'mon, c'mon," Felix urges, voice rough. "Open your goddamn eyes."
Felix gently but firmly grabs Jake's face, trying to hold his gaze.
"Look at me," he repeats—voice firm but shaky. "I'm here. I'm *right here.* Open your eyes and *look at me."*
Jake moans, head rolling back into the pillows. His eyes flutter again, and for a moment he seems to respond to Felix's voice.
"Come on… c'mon, you can do it." Felix's heart is in his throat.
And then—finally—Jake's eyes open more. For a moment, they're unfocused—cloudy and unfocused as the drug works its terrible hold.
But then something registers. His eyes lock onto Felix's face, and—finally—there's a spark of recognition.
"F-Felix…?" he gasps, his voice thick and slurred. "I'm… I…"
Felix lets out a sob of relief.
"Yeah," he whispers, his thumb brushing over Jake's cheek. "Yeah, it's me. It's Felix. I'm right here."
Tears gather at the corners of his eyes, but he blinks them back.
"You're going to be okay," he whispers—mostly to himself. "You're going to be *okay."*
Jake's hand reaches up to grip Felix's wrist—fingers shaking.
"F-Felix… I feel…"
He struggles to form a coherent thought—fighting to push through the drug's hold.
Felix leans in close, waiting.
"I know," he whispers, his voice raw. "I know, just… try to talk to me. Just focus on me."
Jake swallows hard, breath ragged.
"I… I feel hot," he manages, his grip on Felix's wrist tightening. "So hot… like I'm on fire… inside…"
Felix's eyes flicker, a familiar dread twisting in his chest.
"Just… focus on my voice," he whispers, his own hands shaking with adrenaline. "Just my voice. Can you do that for me?"
Jake's eyelashes flutter—the struggle to focus visible in every muscle. But he manages a jerky nod—a silent agreement.
Felix takes a shaky breath, forcing back his fear.
"Good," he whispers. "That's good. You're doing so good."
Another nod, weaker this time—Jake's head dropping back against the pillow.
"I need…" he gasps, his voice trailing off again. "I *need*…"
"...You," Jake chokes out—voice raw, desperate. "I need *you.* But not like this… not because of the *drug.*"
Felix's breath catches.
"I know," he whispers fiercely. "You don't have to say it. I know you want me—but not like this. Not when you're trapped in someone else's poison."
Jake whimpers—half in pain, half in longing—and turns his face into Felix's palm like a man drowning.
"Don't leave," he pleads.
Felix presses their foreheads together—tears slipping free now, unashamed.
**"Never again."**
And as thunder cracks outside—
the storm within rages on…
but so does love,
**refusing to burn out.**
Felix cradles Jake's face, trying to keep his trembling hands steady. Jake's eyes are still dark—still fevered and unfocused—but he's *trying.* He's fighting for clarity.
"Just breathe," Felix whispers. "Slow breaths. In and out. Slow."
Jake obeys, his chest rising and falling in shaky gulps. His grip on Felix's wrist is tight—but not painful. *Needing,* not *demanding.*
"That's it," Felix encourages. "You're doing so well. Keep breathing, okay?"
"Felix..." Jake whispers again—voice hoarse, strained. "I'm scared."
Felix's heart *breaks.* He leans in closer, thumb stroking Jake's cheekbone.
"I know," he murmurs. "But you're not alone. I'm right here—right here with you."
Jake shudders—body trembling under the heat of the drug.
"What if I... lose control?" he gasps out. "What if I hurt you?"
Felix shakes his head—eyes fierce despite the tears.
**"Then I'll remind you who we are."**
His voice drops to a whisper:
**"And we'll fight it together."**
Outside, wind howls through the open window—
but inside?
Love burns brighter than any poison ever could.
---
Jake lets out a strangled sob—the sound tearing at Felix's soul. The drug is still there, still twisting every instinct into something dark and dangerous. But beneath it all, beneath the pain and the heat and the fear—
There's *them.*
"Tell me—tell me something *real,*" he gasps—desperate and pleading. "Please. Something no one else knows. Anything."
Felix leans in, his forehead pressing against Jake's.
"Something no one else knows?" he echoes softly. Then his lips twitch up in a faint, fond smile.
"Well... there's something I've never told you."
Jake can barely keep his eyes open, but he turns his head towards Felix's voice, straining to listen.
Felix takes a breath, his voice dropping even lower—so low that Jake has to strain to hear it.
"You know how much I love your hair, right?"
A flicker of recognition in Jake's eyes. A small nod.
"I do," he murmurs. "You're always… always playing with it…"
Felix huffs a laugh—soft, but genuine.
"Yeah," he agrees. "But there's more to it than that."
Jake's eyes flutter, fighting against the fever. But he hangs on to consciousness, hanging onto Felix's words like a lifeline.
"More?" he echoes faintly. "What do you mean?"
Felix smiles, his voice dropping to a gentle murmur.
"It's stupid," he admits, fingers still stroking gently through Jake's hair. "But... I dream about your hair."
Jake's eyes flutter again, a faint frown of confusion creasing his forehead.
"You... dream about my *hair?*"
"Yeah, I know. Stupid, right?" Felix lets out a quiet laugh, his fingers still combing through Jake's hair. "But... it's more than just the way it looks. It's...."
He pauses, struggling to find the right words.
"It's how it feels," he finally confides. "The way... the way it feels when I brush it back from your face, or pull it out of your eyes when you're too focused to notice yourself. It's soft, and warm, and... and..."
"...and it reminds me that you're *real,*" Felix finishes, voice barely above a whisper. "Every time I touch it, I remember—this is *you.* Not the king. Not the Alpha. Just... Jake."
Jake lets out a shaky breath—half-sob, half-relief.
"I'm still here," he murmurs weakly.
Felix squeezes his hand tighter.
"Yeah," he says softly. "You are."
And for a moment—just one fragile moment—the storm inside Jake stills—
not because the drug is gone,
but because love just fought its way through hell...
and won.
---
Jake closes his eyes, finally relaxing into Felix's touch. The drug is still in his system—his skin feverish and body tense with heat. But his breathing is steadying, his muscles gradually uncurling.
Felix watches him—hope flickering in his eyes.
"That's it," he whispers, still stroking Jake's hair. "Just breathe. In and out. Slow."
Jake opens his eyes again—this time, they're more focused.
"I… I can think better," he murmurs, voice rough but *clear.*
Felix smiles softly, the worry in his chest easing at the sound of Jake's clear voice.
"Good," he whispers. "That's really good."
Jake takes a deep breath, his grip on Felix's wrist loosening slightly.
"It's still... there," he rasps out. "The heat. The *need.*"
He shudders—as if to prove it—but his eyes are still clear. Still fixed on Felix's face.
"I know," Felix replies—soft, understanding. "But you're still fighting it. That's all that matters."
He slides his hand down from Jake's hair, gently tracing a line down to his shoulder. Jake shivers at the touch—still feverish, but responsive.
"And you're doing so well," Felix adds, voice even softer. "You have no idea how strong you're being right now."
Jake huffs, the barest trace of a smile flickering across his face.
"Doesn't... feel very strong..."
Felix squeezes his shoulder reassuringly.
"Doesn't matter how you *feel,*" he says firmly. "You're still fighting. You're still here."
Jake takes a shaky breath, his eyes fluttering. The fever is still there, still twisting his instincts into something dark and demanding. But he lets out a quiet laugh—a real one this time, rough and half-broken but genuine.
"Since when did you get so damn *wise?*"
Felix huffs a laugh, his thumb still tracing gentle circles on Jake's shoulder.
"Since I had to look after a stubborn king who's always trying to get himself into trouble."
Jake manages a weak grin, some of his usual sass and sarcasm breaking through.
"Hey, I'm not that bad," he protests weakly. "I can handle myself just fine."
Felix rolls his eyes affectionately.
"Oh, really now?" he teases. "Then what's happening right now? You're supposed to be a king, and you're lying in bed sick with fever like a goddamn child."
Jake groans playfully, rolling his eyes back and pretending to be offended.
"Hey, don't insult me like that," he protests, mock-hurt in his voice. "I'll have you know, being a king can be very stressful."
"Oh, *please,*" Felix scoffs with a smirk. "Stressful? Try telling that to the guy who had to *clean up your royal tantrum* when you broke three vases last week."
Jake lets out a weak chuckle—eyes still glassy but spark of humor unmistakable.
"Those vases were ugly," he mumbles, shifting under the covers. "And I was *not* having a tantrum."
Felix raises an eyebrow.
"You stomped your foot and screamed at Mika until he cried."
Jake blinks—then groans, burying his face in Felix's shoulder like a sulking child.
"...Okay. Maybe I did."
Felix laughs aloud, grinning down at Jake's buried face.
"You're an actual child, you know that?" he teases, his tone affectionate.
Jake mumbles something unintelligible into his shoulder, refusing to look up.
"No, no," Felix continues, gently prodding his shoulder. "Use your words. I can't hear you when you talk into my shirt, your Majesty."
Jake grumbles something that sounds suspiciously like "I hate you", voice muffled by Felix's shirt.
Felix can't help but smile, shaking his head.
"Yeah, yeah, you hate me. *Very* believable when you're snuggled against me like a little koala."
Jake's only response is another unintelligible grumble. Then suddenly, he tugs on Felix's shirt—pulling him down against his chest.
"Shut up," he mumbles, his grip tight and possessive. "You talk too damn much."
Felix's eyes widen in surprise at the sudden move, suddenly finding himself pressed against Jake's chest—Jake's arms circling around him tightly. He can feel the fever-heat through the fabric of Jake's shirt, but it doesn't bother him.
He relaxes into the embrace, letting out a quiet laugh.
"Possessive much?" he teases gently, his voice laced with amusement.
Jake only grumbles in response, holding Felix even closer and burying his face in his shoulder.
Felix can't help but smile at the gesture, feeling Jake's heart racing against his chest.
"You're so damn clingy," he whispers, running his fingers gently through Jake's hair. "You know that?"
"Only for you," Jake murmurs—voice low, rough, but undeniably *real.*
Felix's teasing smile softens. The room feels warmer now—not from fever, but from something deeper. Something quiet and fierce all at once.
He lifts a hand to cradle the back of Jake's neck, thumb brushing slow circles against his skin.
"Good," he whispers. "Because I'm not going anywhere."
Jake exhales shakily—like he's been holding his breath for years—and tilts his head just enough to press a clumsy, fever-warm kiss to Felix's collarbone.
It isn't grand. Isn't perfect.
But it's *theirs.*
And in the dim glow of moonlight filtering through storm-chased clouds?
Felix closes his eyes… and lets himself believe—
that love really can outlast poison,
and pain,
and even kings who pretend they don't need saving.