Chapter Text
The cocktail of drugs they had him on were enough to make things extremely fuzzy. He wasn’t sure if he slept most of the time, or if he just forgot what happened when he was awake. Everything felt like a dream, distant and wrapped in clouds.
He knew he shouldn’t like it, could feel the back of his mind somewhere deep trying to struggle against it, but he couldn’t remember why. Didn’t have the control to investigate further.
So he drifted.
Occasionally he vaguely remembered people coming in, talking to him – although they sounded muffled, far away. Hard to understand.
Like now, there was a voice somewhere to one side of him. He could just about make out a tone, sneering, taunting, but there was no sting through the fog that surrounded him. Then noises, scuffles and a strange, desperate, gurgling sound. Those seemed important. Why? Didn’t matter, he should look anyway.
It took a moment, and a lot of concentration – he nearly lost it, nearly forgot what he was doing halfway through the motion – but he managed to roll his head to the side, towards the noise. There was a figure, prone, on the floor, bleeding profusely from a deep wound in his throat. All over the floor, a puddle, mirror-bright, forming around his face.
Crouched over him was a man, dressed all in black, cleaning a wicked-looking knife on the bleeding man’s shirt, before sliding it away. He had a long, chestnut braid, bold against the black of his jacket, and for a moment he was lost, tracing the weaving of it, in and out, with flecks of red and gold as he moved – hypnotic, distracting. What was he looking at again?
The pattern was gone, and then there was a face looming over his. Familiar – very familiar. Warmth curled through him and tingled across his limbs pleasantly, and he thought perhaps he was smiling in response to the smile he was seeing, the large blue-purple eyes with mingled tones, as distracting as the braid had been.
“Hey there buddy,” a voice asked, in a cheerful undertone, a deep rumble of a voice reverberating through his chest with his steady heartbeats. “How’s it goin’?”
The voice probably wanted a response, but he got distracted as the eyes – a little strained at the edges, a wrinkle between the eyebrows – darted quickly around him, looking sort-of at him, but not at his eyes. They moved so fast, they were so bright, he could just follow their progress. When he didn’t reply, they met his gaze again, frowning, and he smiled again – that was a familiar face. A nice face. Pretty eyes.
“Oh boy,” the man muttered, “You’re gonna have a helluva hangover tomorrow.”
And then arms were reaching over him, tugging at things, and there was a pulling, twinging sensation somewhere on the edge of his consciousness.
The next thing he knew the world was somersaulting and there was a surprised sound and everything tumbled around in his vision for a little while. As things rocked back into place, he became aware of a firm sensation against his back, warm and solid, wrapping around his front to his chest as well. It felt safe, secure. Nice.
There was blood on the floor. A man lying in it. The man’s blood? It was still, shiny, thick.
“Jesus you can’t even stand up, what did they dope you with?”
Then things were moving again, and there was a grunt, and he wasn’t quite sure what was happening, but the floor seemed nearer, and so did a pair of trousers, with legs in them. Legs which were moving, and he was jostled in time with them. They stepped over the man on the ground – what was he doing down there? – and paused only briefly to grab a slim black case from the cabinet by the door and stuff it into a back pocket right by his face, before they were off again.
*
“I dunno, man, he couldn't even sit upright. I only had a bike with me. I had to just camp out until he came down.”
“How would I know what with? I just know I’ve never seen him like that.”
“He's still out. Has been for hours. He's in and out, but never seems to remember the last time he was awake.”
Pressure. Intense pressure pushing down on Wufei, and out from inside him. The world was pitching from side to side and everything too harsh, too sharp. He felt like every nerve had been stripped raw, and he was over sensitised, overstimulated, in agony.
His head throbbed and his stomach clenched suddenly, painfully, and he just managed to roll to his side - to the edge of a bed - before he was retching, heaving, into a bucket someone had left on the floor beside him.
“Shit. I’ll call you back.”
The words were far too loud, a stabbing pain of bright colour behind his eyes at every syllable. And then the mattress shifted underneath him, and he let out a weak groan at the movement, but then there was a cool, wet cloth pressed against the back of his neck that felt like utter bliss. Soothing, cooling.
He lay, sprawled on his side over the edge of the bed, trying to catch his breath and spitting out bitter bile. Trying to see past the kaleidoscope of light that seemed to be trying to split his eyes open.
“It’s alright,” the voice was barely a whisper, soothing and gentle, and he thought he made a noise in response, but it wasn’t anything coherent. A whimper, maybe. “You’re okay, buddy, you’re safe.”
A hand, calloused, cold from the cloth, pushed hair away from his sweaty forehead to rest against his skin, and he felt his eyes flutter closed as the cool soothed the burning he hadn’t even registered amongst the other sensations. Felt himself relax into the touch - a good touch, a safe touch.
Something pleasant through the pain.
The hand disappeared, another cloth gently wiped at his face, and then he was carefully, carefully rolled back into the bed, sheets untangled from around him and rearranged, head propped against a pillow.
Then the weight settled again and the cool cloth was pressed against his forehead, and he managed to crack his eyes open again, force his lids apart just a sliver to squint, and oh god that hurt, at the person next to him.
“...Duo?”
His voice was dry, raspy, sore. But Duo’s face, which had been creased in a concerned frown, melted into a look of profound relief, and some kind of peace settled through Wufei's chest, some kind of strange comfort from seeing Duo relax.
“Hey stranger,” he said, and his voice was gentle, and considerably less strained than it had been before. “I’d ask how you're feelin’, but I think I can guess. Can you manage a drink?”
He wasn't sure, but allowed Duo to prop him up to take a couple of cautious sips from a sippy cup - where the hell had he got a sippy cup? The water was cool and refreshing on the way down, and immediately less so on the way back up, as Duo deftly grabbed for the bucket and rolled him to catch the water.
“...sorry,” he managed to mutter, embarrassed, as Duo settled him back against the pillows.
“S’alright, we’ll just keep tryin’. Until Heero gets here to pick us up, it's the only way to get water in you.”
Memories were coming back to him. An op - an infiltration, compromised? And then… vague half-sensations until now. He glanced sideways, saw Duo reaching over to the dresser - was this a motel? He couldn't look around to see, it made everything hurt - and taking another cloth out of a pack, soaking it from the sippy cup, and then pressing it against Wufei's cracked, sore lips.
The moisture that got into his mouth was barely enough to wet his tongue, but it didn’t make him heave, and Wufei found himself watching, mesmerised, as Duo kept resoaking the cloth, and pressing it against his mouth, letting him suck on it, slowly bringing his mouth back to normal.
The expression on his face was gentle, calm concentration, tracking Wufei’s condition.
It was fascinating.
Why had he never looked at Duo’s face like this before? Really studied it? It was handsome, warm, kind and very expressive. The line of his nose, his strong jaw, his bright, stunning eyes.
It was distracting, almost making him forget about how awful he felt. He just lay, too weak to move, watching Duo through half-lidded eyes. It took a long time to finish the water, and then the cup and cloth were put aside, and Duo rearranged the sheets again, and the pillows, trying to make him comfortable enough to fall asleep.
He wasn’t comfortable, but he was exhausted enough to sleep anyway.
As he drifted off, he had a vague thought that something still wasn’t right. But he was coming down off these drugs. That would be it.
He’d be back to normal soon enough.
*
“How are you feeling?”
“Weak.”
Heero snorted softly at the disgust in Wufei’s voice, a small smirk quirking the corner of his mouth and he glanced over to where Wufei was sat on the examination bench, looking sullen.
It had been a week.
A week since Heero had arrived with a nondescript sedan, and Wufei had been gently bundled into the back of it, wrapped in blankets, Duo following behind the two of them on his bike.
A week since they had got him safely home, in his own room, hooked up to fluids, and made it firmly very clear to Une that he would be better recovering in his own space, where he felt safe and secure. Then Heero had taken a couple of blood samples, the case that Duo had stolen from Wufei’s cell, and left him to the surprisingly careful nursing of his roommate.
The cuts and bruises were healing quickly enough, and at least he could move under his own steam again. But it tired him out quickly, leaving him trembling and sweaty.
And he was starting to get angry at how useless he was.
“It’s normal to feel weak,” Heero told him, voice even as ever, noting down Wufei’s blood pressure and undoing the cuff from his upper arm. “Most people would only just be getting over the withdrawal symptoms at this stage. You’re lucky to be up.”
“Lucky,” Wufei echoed dryly, watching Heero move over to the computer to input his notes. If that’s what the kids were calling it now, being turned into a child killing machine with enhanced resistance to various chemicals, then he supposed he was lucky.
It had been both a surprise, and actually not surprising at all, when Heero had announced he was undertaking medical training. Active service with the Preventers had proved difficult for him, pitching his desire to be useful and do what was right, against his wish to live peacefully and do no harm. It had caused a lot of conflict.
Plus, his rather straight-line approach to tasks had been a nightmare for paperwork. Blowing up all obstacles was great in a Gundam. Less fun when you had to fill out forms in triplicate explaining why you did it afterwards. And as a formal organisation, there was a lot more responsibility for the cost of blowing up a neighbourhood.
The conflict, stress, and lack of apparently straightforward thinking in operation completion, had meant that Heero had increasingly found himself providing a support role for missions, staying at mission control and helping coordinate, monitor, and collect intelligence. And then, through some circumstance that no-one was entirely clear on, he had started assisting Sally more in the clinic and the labs. It was like a switch had been flipped – he was working to heal, contributing to peace through positive actions.
Occasionally, still, Une would put him on active duty for severe cases. But he refused to take the lead. And he refused to carry a lethal weapon, instead utilising tasers and tranquilisers if he had to take anything.
This little lab, however, was his kingdom.
He wasn’t quite a doctor – not yet – but he had a more than passing knowledge of physiology, given his history, so his studies so far had focused on biology and biochemistry. And he was at peace.
Wufei preferred being treated by Heero over being treated by Sally. He appreciated Heero’s impassivity, his lack of desire to comfort or judge. Each case was a problem, a puzzle, and he would solve it based on facts and knowledge. The person was a secondary consideration to the puzzle. Other agents had moaned about his lack of ‘bedside manner’ – quietly, a long way from the clinic. Wufei decided not to tell them how lucky they were that they got given painkillers before Heero set their broken limbs.
He seemed happy enough with Wufei’s progress though, as he explained the chart back to his patient in his usual, measured tones. He forecast a predictable, easy recovery with the same enthusiasm given to reading out the bus timetable, or the tv listings. It was almost soothing that Heero was so unruffled.
“That’s it,” Heero told him, inclining his head in the direction of the door, letting him know he could leave. Wufei hesitated – a split-second, or less – but it did not go unnoticed. “What?”
“…There’s something else.”
“Yes,” Heero said dryly. “I assumed. From your Not Leaving.”
The glare Wufei shot him was half-hearted, the reaction an impassive, expectant expression and the unwavering focus of intense blue eyes that were probably as accurate as any of the medical equipment in the room.
“I’ve been having a… reaction,” he began, trying to find an explanation that wasn’t humiliating.
“To the drugs?”
“To Maxwell.”
That got a reaction. The barest startled expression flashed across Heero’s face, before he turned back to his notes, fingers poised above the keyboard.
“Elaborate,” he instructed. Wufei did.
He had slept almost a full day between being bundled into the car at the motel, and then decanted into his bed at home, a saline drip plugged into his arm to keep him hydrated, bucket on the floor in case his stomach rebelled. He woke up with a thumping headache, a mouth that tasted like compost, and a complete and insistent sense that something was wrong .
A sense which evaporated the instant he spotted Duo, sprawled in the armchair across from his bed, lazily flipping through a magazine and barely suppressing a gigantic, jaw-cracking yawn. Even in the dim light of his bedside lamp – dimmer still for being set on the floor on the opposite side of his dresser, blocking most of the light from reaching Wufei’s eyes, sparing his head – he could make out enough details to know who it was. And the second recognition was processed, the wrong disappeared and instead a feeling of warmth, safety, and bliss suffused through his entire body, leaving him tingly and slightly breathless.
All he could do was lie there and stare, stunned, trying to drink the scene in. It was like seeing him for the first time – the warm light brought gold and red out in his hair, loosely braided ready for bed, tugged over his shoulder so he could fidget with it with one hand, balancing the magazine against his legs with the other. He was twisted sideways in the chair, one leg tucked beneath him, the other hooked over the arm as he leaned against the back. That was absolutely not how the chair was supposed to be used, and absolutely the only way Duo could be sat.
He looked peaceful – relaxed and secure, in his safe space – as Wufei’s eyes traced across his features, his long limbs, dark lashes, his restless fingers, and the way he was chewing on his lower lip as he read.
He could have watched him forever, unable to look away. He wasn’t sure how long he did watch him for, until Duo happened to glance up and see his eyes open. The smile that spread across his face was warm, and gentle, and breath taking.
“Hey there, sleepin’ beauty,” Duo said quietly, and his deep rumble of a voice was like a physical sensation. “Feelin’ more human?”
There was definitely something wrong with him, Wufei realised, feeling his heart rate increase as the magazine was set aside and Duo unfurled himself from the chair, padding over to crouch beside the bed. His proximity had never induced this reaction before, and Wufei was suddenly, emphatically aware that something was Not Right.
“Hey, are you okay?” Duo frowned, reaching out to rest a hand on Wufei's forehead, looking mildly startled at the flinch he got in response. “You’re kinda flushed.”
“I-” Wufei began, and then realised that he had no idea what to say. His throat was bone dry and his voice rasped. He swallowed and grimaced. “I feel like shit,” he said, finally.
The chuckle he got in response to that was warm, and rich, like dark chocolate, directly to his brain. And other areas.
“Think you can manage to get up? I can run a bath, get you cleaned up. You might feel more human.”
The noise that Wufei made in response to that conveyed a lot of feelings - surprise, lust, panic, surprise at the lust - but Duo interpreted it as a 'yes’.
It was the only time Wufei would be thankful for the weakness that gripped his body, the soul-deep exhaustion that kept his reactions internal, as Duo helped him bathe, checking and cleaning the injuries he’d sustained, and then redressed him in a set of fresh pyjamas.
The spirit was apparently very, very willing; but the body was mercifully weak.
He lay in bed, staring at the ceiling and replaying the feeling of Duo's hands on his bare skin, the unexpected - unprecedented - thrill he got being naked in front of him was enough to make him disgusted with himself, and the gentle, careful attention he had received had done nothing to help.
And his dreams that night were still drug-vivid, but he was sober enough to remember them in technicolour detail.
Things had only got worse over the following week, as he recovered. Had Duo always been this flirty? Had he always been so invasive of Wufei's personal space? It was torture. He both craved it and was horrified by his own reactions.
He summarised things somewhat when detailing this to Heero, however, keeping things as clinical and precise as necessary. Heero never appreciated too much in the way of contextual details anyway - if he needed anything more, he prompted.
As it was, he was sat in his chair, frowning at the notes he had made and comparing them to some results earlier in his file.
“What?” he asked, after a long silence.
“There’s nothing in your blood tests to explain this,” Heero told him flatly. “Some slightly elevated hormone levels, but aside from that it is all the trace elements you would expect to find in the narcotics used to subdue you. Are you certain you hadn’t experience any attraction to Duo prior to this operation?”
“I think I would have noticed,” Wufei snapped. “I live with him, it probably would have become an issue sooner if I had.”
The other man didn’t react to his temper, instead frowning thoughtfully at the screen for a moment longer, before his mouth twisted thoughtfully and he stood, moving across the room to the large fridge on the far side. Opening it, he withdrew a slim, black case, which was vaguely familiar, and walked back to show it to Wufei.
“Recognise this?” At Wufei’s blank expression, he opened it and showed him the contents - a single syringe full of clear liquid. “Duo retrieved it from your cell when he extracted you. From what I gather he arrived just after you had received a dose from an identical syringe.”
“What is it?”
“I don’t know,” Heero said frankly, returning to his seat with the case, setting it on the side next to his keyboard. “I haven’t tested it yet. Your blood results were showing normal drug results for your symptoms, and were clearing as expected, so I had assumed this was those same drugs.”
“But…?”
“But taking your additional symptoms into account, plus the way this was packaged, it may be that there was something additional administered to you whilst you were being held,” Heero explained. “The issue is working out what, and for what purpose.”
Wufei was certain that he didn’t want to know the answer to the question, but he asked it anyway.
“What is unusual about the way it’s packaged?”
“The narcotics used to keep you subdued would likely have been administered regularly in small doses to avoid overdose,” Heero told him. “This case only has room for eight syringes - not enough to keep you under for as long as you were. And the remaining syringe is full - more than is even remotely safe for narcotics. It suggests that there was a specific course of treatment intended.”
Room for eight syringes.
One left.
He’d had nearly a full course of treatment of… something.
“Find out what it is,” Wufei ordered, stepping off the table and heading towards the door. “Fix it.”
“I don’t know what else you would expect me to do,” Heero said dryly, as the door swung shut behind him.
*
Une had refused, flatly, to tell Wufei who had taken over the case since he had been withdrawn. Or if they had any information on how he had been discovered - if there was a leak. Only that it was being investigated, and he was no longer privy to new information as he had been compromised and removed from the case.
She also pointed out that he was still on medical leave because he was unfit for work, and the email from Heero following his check-up did not suggest otherwise. He begged to be allowed to come back and do administrative work - she threatened disciplinary action if he tried to remain and invalidate their insurance when he was signed off.
He had just stepped out onto the pavement, wondering if he could perhaps go hide in the library for the day, when a car pulled up in front of him, and Duo wound down the window to grin at him.
The surprise of his appearance meant he hadn’t been able to brace for the feelings that slammed through him at that grin - at the way his eyes crinkled cheekily at the corners, his hair fell across his face, and the bit of muscular forearm that was rested on the door as he leaned out. Instead, Wufei could just stare, try to control his breathing, whilst his heart tried to smash its way out of his chest.
“Hey buddy, Heero said you’d be done, thought I’d give you a ride home. Hop in!”
“...It’s fine,” he managed to force out through his tight throat. “I can get the bus.”
“Don’t be dumb, I’m already here,” Duo said. “I’d’ve given you a ride in earlier if you’d waited. Get in.”
Wufei’s mind was racing, trying to find a reason not to get in the car with Duo. Not to be in an enclosed space, one-on-one. But he was struggling to focus, struck stupid with lust and affection and he just kept thinking how good Duo’s mouth looked.
“Come on,” Duo wheedled, his voice more gentle, and still so patient - he was so patient, it was ridiculous and completely unnecessary. “You’re already looking wiped. You’re flushed, your eyes are glazed - if I let you get on a bus, you’ll probably pass out and end up on the far side of the city. Just lemme take you home, we can get you set up and then you can just sleep.” His grin widened, he gave a saucy wink. “Maybe I’ll even tuck you in.”
It was so tempting, Duo’s voice seemed to get right under his skin and tug and pull in the most teasing way. The prospect of Duo tucking him in - a joke , it was a joke - briefly made him forget how to breathe, and before he realised it, he was climbing into the car, face flaming and jaw set.
“Just drop me off. I can sort myself out.”
“Aw, no, lemme be your nursemaid,” Duo teased, smoothly pulling away and joining the traffic. Wufei looked out the far window, determined not to watch - Duo was a very good driver, smooth, confident. At ease behind the wheel, it was…
Dammit it was sexy.
And the way his hand fit around the gearstick, brushing over it, wrapping firmly…
Get a grip, get a grip.
“Maybe I could even give you a sponge bath!”
He should have taken the bus.
*
Wufei had fairly leapt out of the car before it had stopped moving when they had got home, and charged up to their apartment. He was winded by the time he got there - stupid stupid - but at least there was some distance between him and the car.
So close to Duo he could smell him. Could see the muscles of his thighs shifting under his trousers as he worked the pedals. Could watch his hands stroke across the wheel, long fingers strong and confident, looking at the veins, scars, muscles in his hand and wrist. Could try not to die a little every time Duo made an innuendo about nursing.
Sinking onto his bed, he dropped his head into his hands and let out a long, frustrated groan.
He couldn’t carry on like this - he didn’t know how to deal with this sort of thing. Everything was so unexpected. Every time he thought he had nailed down everything that would set off another firework display of feelings, so he could brace and prepare, try to control it, Duo did something else and he would just dissolve.
It was exhausting.
There was a gentle, hesitant tap on his door. Taking a deep breath, Wufei pressed his lips together firmly, and slowly looked up – eyes tracking up long legs, across a lean torso, to where Duo had propped his shoulder against the doorframe and was knocking quietly on the open door with one knuckle. He look cautious, and slightly sad, worried, and Wufei felt an ache curl through him to wipe that expression off his face, to protect him from anything that made him feel like that. Then he felt a stab of annoyance – Duo wasn’t a child that needed to be coddled, he was more than capable of managing his own emotional wellbeing. He didn’t Wufei to kiss his booboos.
“…Yes?” he asked, finally, when he realised Duo hadn’t said anything, and he himself was in danger of just staring at him.
“Is everythin’ okay?” Duo asked. “I mean,” he added hastily, “I know you’re still recoverin’, so everything’s not okay, but… It kinda feels like there’s more goin’ on? I’ve seen you injured before, and this is… different.” There was a long pause, where Wufei just stared at him and tried to think of how to respond, and Duo picked awkwardly at his fingernails. “It’s just. You’ve been kinda twitchy about me touching you, and gettin’ in your space? And I just… If something happened, I’m here if you need to talk about it, okay? And if that’s why you don’t wanna be touched, I get it, and you can just say. I don’t wanna make you uncomfortable, I just wanna help.”
It took a moment for Wufei to process what Duo was trying to ask without outright asking, and in that time the braided man seemed to be growing increasingly more anxious about the answer.
“I – No! No, nothing like that. Nothing happened,” Wufei reassured him hastily. “It’s just… I’m experiencing some… unexpected side effects to the drugs. I’m sorry – I didn’t mean to worry you.”
The relief on Duo’s face was profound, and Wufei felt his gut twist painfully that he had caused so much anxiety to his friend. Added to that the new roiling cloud of emotions battering its way through his psyche - he was touched that Duo had been so worried about him, he was pleased that he could ease Duo’s concerns, and he felt guilty that he’d been the reason for them.
This was ridiculous.
“Well… that’s a bummer, I guess,” Duo said, although he seemed more cheerful. “But you’ll get there. I’m glad it wasn’t... You’ve just gotta take the time to rest up. You’re really bad at that.”
Grunting, Wufei leaned down to untie his shoes, hoping Duo would go away, at the same time hoping he would stay – come closer – a lot closer…
What he neither hoped for, nor expected, but got anyway, was a pair of jeans thrown at his head, startling him out of his reverie. He straightened up, batting them away and staring at Duo, who was stood in the doorway laughing - a rich, easy, devastating laugh.
“What-”
“Get changed. I’m not lettin’ you mope around the place ‘cause Heero didn’t give you the all clear.”
“I don’t-”
“We’re going out. I’m takin’ you out. Call it a date. A man-date. A mate.”
“No, let’s not call it that,” Wufei said hastily, coaxing a teasing grin out of Duo.
“What, don’t you want to mate me? We’re mating.”
“I will get changed if you stop talking.”
Duo mimed zipping his mouth shut and locking it at the corner, then gave him a cheeky wink, and disappeared to his own room to change. Running his hands over his hair, and clasping them at the back of his head, Wufei stared after him and tried to get himself back under control again.
He was learning an awful lot about what he found attractive in a man. And Duo seemed to cover all of it.
*
Duo’s suggestion for their ‘man-date’ (“Please, can we not call it that?”) was very much standard dating fare, much to Wufei’s chagrin. Even though he had to admit he wasn’t up for anything much more active - the trip to the office had drained him more than he was happy to admit - but dinner and a movie seemed a little too close to an actual date.
And, on the subject of things which were a little too close, Duo shifted again in his seat, thigh brushing up against Wufei’s as they sat, crammed into the seats in the tiniest screen of the multiplex, for the last screening of some obscure Chinese martial arts epic. A tingle shot right up Wufei’s spine from the contact, and he tried to adjust to make some more space, succeeding only in furthering the contact.
He was more than a little conflicted by that outcome.
Trying to focus on the film was almost a lost cause, because it was exactly what he liked - cut back, well-choreographed fight scenes with snappy techniques. Nothing overblown, no wire-work, and a well-written story that didn’t confuse being convoluted with being clever.
And Duo had managed to find the last cinema in town showing it. Wufei hadn’t even heard of it, but his roommate had somehow found out about it and where to see it in the time it took Wufei to change out of his uniform.
Wufei was so touched, and spent more of the movie watching Duo out of the corner of his eye than watching the screen. Every time he tried to turn his attention to the film, his gaze got pulled back to studying his friend’s profile, the constantly changing lights on the screen casting flickering shadows across his face. His unexpectedly gorgeous face.
A couple of times, Duo looked across and caught his eye, shooting him a conspiratorial grin, and when that happened Wufei forgot there was even a film playing, and had to remember how to breathe.
The sooner Heero found a cure, the better. Not least because he found himself thinking that he didn’t ever want these feelings to end.
*