Jia Hao woke up to the sound of the shutters rising.
The sun had already set. He propped his elbow on the pillow and looked at Mu Yang, still asleep — his face delicate and harmonious. He listened to his breathing. It had become a need, to make sure he was there with him, alive.
He could still feel his exhaustion, but he was grateful that Mu Yang wasn't dead and that he would recover. Jia Hao would never forget his kidnapping by Patrick, the fear of losing him, the rescue led by Christopher's pack — Mu Yang, in his wolf form, biting Patrick and getting hurt to save him. He remembered the weight of his feral body as he carried him out, blood soaking his fur, the raspy sound of his breathing from the punctured lung…
He shook his head. Mu Yang was here. He was safe now. They were at home, and everything would be fine.
He got up and went to the kitchen to prepare something good for him to eat.
He wasn't as skilled as Mu Yang at cooking, but he tried his best since he'd been staying there. He decided to make pancakes — his werewolf loved them.
He was almost done cooking when a cold breeze reached him. Frowning, he turned off the stove and went into the living room, seeing the balcony door slightly open.
He stepped outside and saw Mu Yang standing on the small terrace, his head tilted up as snow fell softly around and over him.
"Xiao Yang! What are you doing out here? Come inside right now — you'll catch a cold!" he said, rushing toward him.
Mu Yang smiled. "I just needed some air, gege. Isn't the snow beautiful? I love its scent."
"Let's go back in. The doctors said you shouldn't be out in the cold until your lung is completely healed."
"I'm a wolf, remember? I need some air."
Jia Hao shook his head and gently took him by the shoulders. "Let's go inside."
Mu Yang let himself be led in. Once he was seated on the couch, Jia Hao brushed away the snowflakes that had landed on him, then grabbed a blanket and wrapped it around him. Kneeling in front of him, he looked into his eyes.
"I'm fine," Mu Yang said, taking one of his hands between his own.
Jia Hao's eyes widened when he felt how cold they were. "How long have you been out here?"
Mu Yang shrugged.
"Please, be patient. You're still healing."
Mu Yang saw the worry in his gaze, then nodded. He rested his forehead against Jia Hao's and placed a gentle kiss on his lips. "What's that delicious smell?" he asked, glancing toward the kitchen.
"Pancakes."
The werewolf's face lit up with a smile as he got up and pulled the vampire with him toward the other room.
Jia Hao served the pancakes, bringing them to the table with jam and maple syrup.
He watched his partner cover them in blackberry jam, his expression pure delight as he ate. Then he poured syrup over his own and began to eat.
—
About an hour before dawn, they were on the couch. Jia Hao sat upright while Mu Yang lay stretched out, his head resting on Jia Hao's lap. Both of them stared out at the night city through the large window.
The vampire's hand ran gently through the werewolf's hair in slow movements, and Mu Yang had his eyes closed, feeling drowsy and slightly warm.
Jia Hao brushed a few strands away from his forehead and pressed his palm against it. Mu Yang gave a small, annoyed groan.
The hand moved again. "You have a fever."
"Mhmm… no."
"Mu Yang, you do have a fever."
The werewolf opened his eyes, meeting the vampire's worried gaze.
Maybe the cold air had been a little too much for his injured lung.
"I'll call Dr. Silver."
"No need. I'm a doctor, remember?"
Jia Hao scolded, "Then you should've known better than to go out on the balcony while it was snowing."
"Sorry, gege. You're right." He looked into his eyes until he saw his expression soften. "An aspirin will do."
The vampire looked skeptical.
"If it doesn't go down, or if it rises, I'll take antibiotics."
"Come on, I'm taking you to bed."
Mu Yang sighed but didn't argue.
When he stood, the room swayed, and the vampire caught him in his arms.
Once he was in bed, Jia Hao tucked him in and placed his hand on his forehead again. Then he picked up a thermometer from the nightstand and handed it to him.
The werewolf put it under his arm and looked at him. "I'm sorry, gege, I didn't mean to worry you again."
He knew very well that the vampire still didn't sleep well during the day.
When the thermometer beeped, he glanced at it and handed it over. "38.7!" Jia Hao's expression was a mix of concern and mild irritation. Mu Yang looked away, burying himself under the blankets.
The vampire got up, returning shortly after with a pill and a glass of water. Mu Yang swallowed them and lay back down. He felt dizzy and soon fell asleep.
Jia Hao sat beside him on the bed. When he heard a faint sound, he looked up — the shutters were slowly lowering to shield them from the sun.
He caressed Mu Yang's now-cool face, then lay down beside him, wrapping an arm around his body. He closed his eyes, and exhaustion finally drew him into sleep.
—
The shutters were open again, and the dim city lights of the night illuminated the room.
Mu Yang blinked and looked for Jia Hao, whose hazel eyes were silently watching him. "Wide awake, Qin ai'de."
"Gege."
A cool hand caressed his face.
"The fever's gone."
The werewolf smiled and reached up to touch his cheek. "I'm sorry I made you worry."
"You're staying in bed today."
Mu Yang's eyes widened. "No…"
"You're not planning to push yourself again, are you?"
He had wanted to go out of town and shift — his skin itched, and his wolf was restless — but he was a doctor, and he knew Jia Hao was right. He lowered his eyes and nodded, a small pout forming on his lips.
Jia Hao lifted his chin and kissed him. "I'll stay here with you. I won't let you get bored."
Mu Yang smiled again and pulled him close. As long as Jia Hao was with him, he could endure restlessness — and anything else that came their way.