CHAPTER 63: CHAPTER 63

Yu Jin’s POV

The fever started in the afternoon.

We’d managed to shower (properly this time), and I’d even forced myself to eat half a bowl of instant ramen just so Park Min wouldn’t look at me like I was a corpse. He was moving slowly, wincing every time he sat down, thighs pressed tight together like he was trying to hold himself closed. I pretended not to notice the faint red-brown stain on the inside of his sweatpants when he thought I wasn’t looking.

I noticed everything.

By six p.m. he was burning up. I touched his neck and jerked my hand back like I’d been scalded.

"Min, you’re on fire."

He laughed, but it came out weak. "I’m always hot when you’re around."

"Stop joking. You have a fever."

He tried to stand up from the couch and swayed. I caught him before he hit the floor. His skin was radiating heat through the thin t-shirt, and his scent (fuck, his scent) had shifted. It wasn’t just sweet anymore. It was thick, syrupy, like someone had cracked open a jar of honey and left it in the sun. My mouth watered instantly.

"I’m fine," he mumbled into my shoulder. "Just tired. Let me sleep it off."

"You said we were going to the hospital."

"Tomorrow. You promised tomorrow."

"You’re burning up now."

He went limp in my arms, head lolling. That was it. I scooped him up (he was heavier than me, always had been, but adrenaline made me stupid strong) and carried him out the door. The hospital was only eight minutes away if I ran the red lights. I did.

They took one look at him (flushed, shaking, pupils blown wide) and rushed him into a curtained room. I stood there like an idiot, hands still shaped like they were holding him, heart jackhammering.

A nurse asked me questions. I lied through my teeth.

"Yes, we’re roommates. No, he doesn’t have allergies. No, he hasn’t been drinking. Yes, we’ve both been... under a lot of stress lately."

They drew blood. Gave him IV fluids. Said it looked like a severe systemic inflammatory response, possibly infection. Prescribed antibiotics, antipyretics, bed rest. Told me to watch him closely for twenty-four hours.

I bowed and thanked them and apologized so many times the doctor looked uncomfortable.

In the cab home, Park Min was half-conscious against my side, mumbling nonsense.

"I’m sorry," I whispered into his hair. "This is my fault. I did this to you. I broke you."

He made a small sound, like he wanted to argue but didn’t have the strength.

Back at his place, I carried him to bed, stripped him down to his boxers, wiped him with a cool cloth. His skin was still blazing. Every time I touched him he leaned into it, chasing the contact like a cat.

"I’m sorry," I kept saying, over and over, kissing his forehead, his eyelids, the corner of his mouth. "I’m so fucking sorry, Min. I lost my mind. I hurt you. I’ll never touch you again if you don’t want me to. I swear."

He cracked one eye open. "Don’t be dramatic. I wanted it too. Most of it."

"Most of it?"

He gave me a tired half-smile. "You went feral on day two. I was already too gone to stop you."

I buried my face in his neck and cried like a fucking child. He stroked my hair with what little strength he had left and told me to shut up and get in bed.

I did. On top of the covers. Fully clothed. Hands to myself.

That lasted exactly four hours.

I woke up at 2:17 a.m. to the sound of him whimpering.

The room was dark except for the streetlight bleeding through the blinds. Park Min was curled on his side, knees drawn up, arms wrapped around his stomach. His breathing was fast and shallow, and the smell had gotten ten times worse. It was everywhere. In my lungs. In my blood. My cock was already hard and leaking just from breathing.

"Min?" I sat up, heart in my throat. "Baby, talk to me."

He turned toward me slowly, and the look on his face stopped my heart.

His eyes were glassy, cheeks flushed crimson, lips bitten swollen. He looked drugged.

"Yu Jin," he rasped. "It hurts."

"Where? Your ass? Fever came back?"

He shook his head frantically. "Inside. Deep. Empty. I need..." His voice cracked. "I need you inside me. Please."

I froze.

He crawled toward me on shaky arms, sweatpants already pushed down to his thighs like he’d been trying to take them off himself. His cock was hard, flushed dark, dripping onto the sheets. His hole (when he turned and showed me, fuck) was glistening, swollen shut no more. It was open, fluttering, slick running down his balls in slow rivulets.

Heat.

He was in fucking heat.

And I...my own scent spiked so hard I felt dizzy. My rut answering his heat like a goddamn mating call.

"No," I said, scooting back until I hit the headboard. "No, Min, we can’t. You heard the doctor. You’re sick. You’re injured...."

"I’m not sick," he sobbed, grabbing my wrist and yanking my hand between his legs. "Feel me. I’m wet for you. I’m ready. I need you, Yu Jin, please...."

His fingers wrapped around my cock through my boxers before I could stop him. I was so hard it hurt.

"Stop." I tried to pull away. "We’re both fucked up right now. This isn’t...."

He shoved my hand harder against his hole. Two of my fingers slipped inside without resistance. He was scalding hot, soft, clenching around me like he was trying to suck me deeper.

"Feel that?" he panted against my mouth. "That’s for you. Only you. I’m in heat because of you. You triggered it. Now fix it."

"Min, listen to me." My voice was shaking. "You were bleeding this morning. You couldn’t walk."

"I know what I said!" he shouted, then whimpered, rocking down on my fingers. "I know I’m wrecked. I know it hurts. But this hurts more. This emptiness.... it’s killing me. I can’t breathe. I need you to fill me up or I’m going to die."

"You’re not going to die."

"I FEEL LIKE I AM!"

He lunged at me, knocking me flat on my back. Straddled my hips. Grabbed my cock and tried to line it up with his hole himself. I barely caught his wrists in time.

"Park Min, stop!"

"Let me put it in," he cried, tears streaming down his face. "Just the tip. Just let me feel you for a second. I’m begging you."

"No."

"Please." His voice broke. "Please, Yu Jin. I’ll be good. I’ll be so good for you. I won’t complain even if you tear me in half. Just fuck me."

I flipped us so fast the headboard cracked against the wall. Pinned his wrists above his head with one hand.

"Listen to me," I snarled, nose to nose. "We are not doing this. Not like this. Not when you’re crying and shaking and half out of your mind."

"I’m in heat!" he screamed. "This is what heat is! I don’t have a choice!"

"You always have a choice. And right now I’m making it for both of us."

He bucked under me, trying to rub his slick hole against my stomach, my thigh, anything.

"Then knot your own fucking hand and leave me here to suffer!"

"I’m not leaving you."

"You’re torturing me!"

"I’m keeping you alive!"

He went still suddenly. Looked up at me with those red-rimmed eyes.

"You don’t want me anymore," he whispered. "That’s it, isn’t it? You finally got sick of me. Three days of fucking me raw and now I’m too loose, too used up..."

"Shut up." My voice cracked. "Don’t you dare say that."

"Then why won’t you touch me?" He was sobbing again. "Why are you holding back? I can smell you. You’re in rut just as bad as I’m in heat. Your cock is dripping. You want it."

"I want you alive more."

He laughed, bitter and broken. "I’m an Alpha in heat which is already weird enough, If you don’t knot me soon, my fever will spike again. My organs could shut down. That’s what the pamphlets say. You want me dead?"

"That’s bullshit scare tactics..."

"Is it?" He arched up, rubbed his wet hole along the length of my cock through the fabric. I saw stars. "Then explain why I feel like I’m burning from the inside out. Explain why I can’t think about anything except your knot locking me open."

I dropped my forehead to his. "We need suppressants. Both of us. Real ones. Not the weak shit from the convenience store."

"It’s two in the morning."

"I’ll find a twenty-four-hour clinic."

"They’ll ask questions."

"I don’t care."

"They’ll smell us and know what we did."

"I said I don’t care."

He grabbed my face with both hands. "Look at me."

I did.

"I love you," he said, voice raw. "I love you so much it’s stupid. And right now I need you to love me enough to fuck me through this heat or love me enough to get me help. But you can’t leave me like this. You can’t."

I was shaking so hard the bed was creaking.

"I’m calling an ambulance," I said finally.

"No." He tightened his legs around my waist. "Private clinic. The one in Gangnam. They do... off-the-record heat services. I have the number."

I stared at him.

"You’ve done this before?"

"Never," he said. "But I know people who have. They’ll give us strong suppressants. Or... or a hired alpha if we pay enough. Someone who knows how to knot without...." He stopped. Swallowed. "Without loving me like you do."

The thought of someone else touching him made me see red.

"No hired alpha," I growled.

"Then you do it."

"I can’t."

"You can." He kissed me, desperate and wet. "You can be gentle. You can stop when I say stop. You can knot me and hold me and we’ll get through it together."

"I don’t trust myself."

"I do."

"You shouldn’t."

He guided my hand back between his legs. Made me feel how ready he was. How much his body was begging.

"Yu Jin," he whispered against my lips. "I’m already yours. You’ve been inside me so many times I lost count. One more time won’t kill me. But denying me might."

I broke.

Just a little.

I kissed him slow and deep, tasting salt and heat and desperation.

"Okay," I breathed. "But we do this my way. Slow. Careful. You safe-word the second it hurts too much. And tomorrow... tomorrow we get real help. Suppressants. Therapy. Whatever the fuck we need. Promise me."

He nodded frantically. "Promise. Anything. Just... please..."

I pulled my boxers down. Lined up.

The head of my cock brushed his rim and we both moaned like we’d been punched.

"Look at me," I said.

He did.

I pushed in.

One inch.

He sobbed, nails digging into my shoulders.

Another inch.

His legs wrapped around my waist, heels digging into my back, urging me deeper.

I stopped halfway.

"Too much?"

He shook his head. "More. Please, more."

I slid home in one slow glide.

He came instantly, untouched, body clamping down so hard I saw white. His heat sucked me in like it was starving.

I stayed still, buried to the hilt, knot already swelling at the base.

"I’ve got you," I whispered, kissing his tears. "I’ve got you, baby. Just breathe."

He clung to me, shaking, and nodded into my neck.

Outside, the city kept moving.

Inside, we stayed locked together (literally and not) for the rest of the night.

Tomorrow we’d get help.

Tonight, we had this.