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When Sheng Shaoyou woke up that morning, it was already past nine.
For a moment he thought it would be an ordinary morning, the kind where Hua Yong would already be up, humming under his breath while making breakfast.
But when Shaoyou turned his head, he froze.
Hua Yong was still in bed.
He lay beside him, pale and breathing unevenly, sweat clinging to his forehead and temples. Shaoyou immediately sat up, the last traces of sleep vanishing in an instant. He reached out, pressing his palm against Hua Yong’s forehead, and nearly flinched from the heat radiating off his skin.
“Hua Yong… You’re burning up.”
Hua Yong stirred weakly, his brows furrowing as though even opening his eyes took effort. “I’m fine,” he said. “Just tired… go back to sleep.”
But Shaoyou was already up and fumbling for the thermometer. He couldn’t remember ever seeing Hua Yong like this before. Hua Yong was an enigma in every sense of the word, whose strength and composure often left others forgetting what he was.
Even among alphas, his tolerance was extraordinary. He could go days without proper rest, work himself past exhaustion, and still carry himself with that grace that made Shaoyou both admire and worry for him.
But that same strength was dangerous. Hua Yong pushed himself far too often, relying on his resilient body and instincts as if they would never fail him. Shaoyou had told him so many times to slow down, to take care of himself but Hua Yong only ever smiled and brushed it off.
When the thermometer beeped, Shaoyou’s heart sank. The number on the screen was alarmingly high.
“See?” Shaoyou said, kneeling beside the bed. “You call this fine? You’ve been running yourself down again, haven’t you?”
Hua Yong turned his face away, his eyelashes fluttering. “Don’t be mad,” he whispered, his voice almost childlike in its weakness. “I’m sorry.”
Shaoyou’s anger melted instantly. He sighed, brushing damp hair off Hua Yong’s forehead. “If you’re really sorry,” he murmured, “then promise me you’ll start taking care of yourself, okay?”
Hua Yong gave a nod, wincing when the motion made his head throb. Shaoyou panicked and immediately started gathering things. “That’s it. We’re going to the hospital.”
“No,” Hua Yong said quickly, his hand finding Shaoyou’s wrist with surprising strength. “I’ll be fine. Just need to rest a bit.”
“Hua Yong—”
“Trust me,” he said softly, his eyes hazy but sincere. “I know my body. I just need a little time.”
Shaoyou’s jaw tensed, torn between wanting to argue and not wanting to stress him further. Finally, he exhaled and nodded reluctantly. “Fine. But you’re not getting out of bed today. Not even to check your phone.”
That earned a faint, almost playful smile from Hua Yong. “Bossy.”
Shaoyou rolled his eyes, though his heart felt heavy watching him like this. He smoothed the blanket over him, then sat down on the edge of the bed.
“Go rest somewhere else,” Hua Yong mumbled after a pause, his voice barely above a whisper. “I don’t want you catching this from me.”
Shaoyou blinked, then gave a laugh, the kind that came out more fond than amused. “You think I’d leave you like this? I’d rather get sick than leave you alone.”
Hua Yong’s lips parted as though he wanted to protest, but all that came out was a breath. His eyes softened, and he leaned into Shaoyou’s touch when Shaoyou cupped his cheek again. The fever made his skin hot, but his expression—half-dazed, half-smiling—was heartbreakingly gentle.
“I love you,” Hua Yong murmured, his words slurred with exhaustion.
Shaoyou’s throat closed up. He bent down, pressing a kiss to his forehead, lingering there for a few seconds. “I love you too. Now go to sleep, silly.”
Hua Yong hummed, his hand finding Shaoyou’s and holding it weakly against his chest. Within minutes, his breathing evened out, his body finally relaxing. Shaoyou stayed by his side, watching over him as the morning light moved across the sheets.
He didn’t care if he caught a fever too. All that mattered was that Hua Yong wasn’t alone.
Shaoyou wasn’t sure when he’d fallen asleep. The last thing he remembered was sitting beside Hua Yong, pressing a cool towel to his forehead, telling him to rest. At some point, exhaustion must have claimed him too.
When he woke, it was because of the heat.
It wasn’t just warmth, it was scorching. His skin felt like it was burning, and for a moment, he thought the room’s temperature had shot up. But then he realized the heat was coming from beside him, pressed right up against him. Hua Yong was curled against his chest, arms wound tightly around him even in his sleep, his body shaking under the fever.
Shaoyou’s heart lurched. Relief flooded through him because Hua Yong was still breathing evenly, still here, but worry quickly followed. He was far too warm, his pheromone overflow was bad. Shaoyou tried to move carefully, meaning to get up and cook something light to the stomach, maybe porridge, and prepare medicine before things got worse.
But the moment he moved, Hua Yong stirred.
A small sound escaped his lips, and it sounded like broken plea. “No… please don’t leave.”
It was so soft, so unlike him, that Shaoyou froze. Hua Yong never asked for things like that. His voice even shook, as though he was trying not to cry, and the sound tore straight through Shaoyou’s chest.
Shaoyou turned back immediately, cupping his face with both hands. Hua Yong’s cheeks were flushed, his skin hot beneath his palms.
Their noses brushed as Shaoyou leaned in and whispered, “Hey, it’s okay. I’m here. I’m not leaving you, alright? I just need to make you some food so you can take some medicine. You won’t get better otherwise.”
Hua Yong made a small noise, like a tired protest, and instead of letting go, he moved closer, his body pressed tightly against Shaoyou’s, his face burying into the curve of his neck. His lips brushed against Shaoyou’s skin when he spoke. “I’m not hungry. I’ll feel better if you stay here.”
Shaoyou exhaled shakily, torn between smiling and crying. He stroked the back of Hua Yong’s head, his fingers running through sweat-damp strands. “I promise I won’t take long. I’ll be back before you even notice I’m gone.”
That seemed to reach him. Hua Yong blinked his eyes open, dazed and glassy, his pupils dilated from the fever. He looked up at Shaoyou with a kind of trust that made Shaoyou’s heart ache. “Okay,” Hua Yong murmured. “Hurry up… I’ll wait.”
He reached out, lacing his fingers through Shaoyou’s as if afraid he might disappear. Shaoyou squeezed his hand once, then reluctantly pulled away.
In the kitchen, the silence felt strange. It was usually Hua Yong bustling around, moving gracefully, humming under his breath, tasting the soup and adjusting the flavors until it was perfect. Shaoyou stood by the stove now, stirring porridge that didn’t smell half as good as Hua Yong’s always did, and the thought made his eyes sting.
Hua Yong had always been the one taking care of him, cooking, reminding him to rest, smoothing the wrinkles from his clothes before he left for work. It hit him now how much he’d taken that care for granted. He wasn’t even sure if he was doing this right, but he wanted to try for Hua Yong’s sake.
As the porridge simmered, Shaoyou pulled out his phone and called their private doctor, explaining Hua Yong’s condition and asking him to drop by just to make sure everything was alright. Only once he hung up did he finally allow himself to breathe out, shoulders sagging from the worry.
When he returned to the bedroom with the tray of food, Hua Yong was still awake. He was lying on his side, eyes half-open, looking restless. The sheets were tangled around him.
Shaoyou set the tray on the bed and leaned down to help him sit up, but Hua Yong immediately looped his arms around Shaoyou’s waist, pressing close as if trying to melt into him. His face nestled into the side of Shaoyou’s neck, inhaling his scent.
Shaoyou’s heart softened. He pressed a kiss to Hua Yong’s temple. “It’s okay. I’m here now.”
It took a few moments, but Hua Yong finally loosened his hold enough for Shaoyou to help him sit up against the pillows. Shaoyou scooped up a small spoonful of porridge and blew on it to cool it down before holding it out.
“Come on,” he said softly. “Just a little, okay?”
Hua Yong nodded faintly. He ate in small, slow bites, barely tasting the food, but he didn’t complain. Shaoyou could tell the flavor was probably off. He wasn’t Hua Yong, after all, but Hua Yong kept going, trying his best, and Shaoyou knew it was for him.
When Hua Yong finally leaned back, looking worn out, Shaoyou handed him a glass of water. He helped him drink, one hand steadying the glass while the other rubbed soothing circles along Hua Yong’s back.
When Hua Yong set the glass down, he gave a smile. “You take care of me so well,” he said, voice rough from the fever.
Shaoyou laughed softly, brushing his thumb against Hua Yong’s cheek. “I didn’t even do much,” he said, his lips wobbling just a little.
Hua Yong’s only response was a small smile before he leaned forward and pressed a kiss to Shaoyou’s wrist, right where his pulse beat.
He didn’t say anything after that, he just sat there, holding Hua Yong’s hand, the two of them wrapped in the silence of the room. The fever still lingered, but Hua Yong’s breathing had eased a little, and for now, that was enough.
It was a little past noon when the doorbell rang. Shaoyou wiped his hands on a towel and hurried to open the door. Their private doctor, a kind middle-aged beta who had been attending to them for years, stood there with a reassuring smile and a small medical bag in hand.
When Shaoyou led him inside, Hua Yong visibly tensed the moment he saw the doctor. His body stiffened under the blanket, and his fingers curled around Shaoyou’s hand, gripping tightly as if to anchor himself. His eyes, still hazy from the fever, darted between Shaoyou and the doctor with a hint of distress.
“Baby,” he murmured weakly, clutching tighter. “You didn’t have to… I told you I was fine.”
Shaoyou squeezed his hand back. “I know what you said,” he whispered, sitting beside him on the bed. “But I just want to make sure, okay? It doesn’t hurt to get checked. There’s nothing wrong with asking for help.”
Hua Yong looked at him for a long moment, his lips pressing together as if he wanted to argue. But the worry in Shaoyou’s eyes made his resolve falter. With a small sigh, he nodded. “Alright,” he said, glancing away.
Shaoyou stayed by his side as the doctor took his vitals and asked a few questions. Hua Yong cooperated, though his hand never left Shaoyou’s. His skin was still burning, his scent disoriented from the fever.
After a few minutes, the doctor leaned back and smiled lightly. “It’s not too serious,” he said. “It looks like a mix of fatigue and a mild pheromone imbalance, probably from overworking and not resting properly. Enigmas have higher thresholds, yes, but when they push too far, the effects tend to hit harder. What he needs now is rest, proper meals, and medication to help regulate his pheromones and bring his temperature down.”
Shaoyou nodded, though his throat felt tight. “Will he be okay?”
“With some care, yes. He just needs to slow down,” the doctor said. “And maybe let you fuss over him a little.”
Shaoyou gave a nervous laugh at that, though he didn’t let go of Hua Yong’s hand. The doctor handed him a small list of reminders and prescriptions before packing up his bag. “If his fever doesn’t drop by tomorrow morning, call me right away.”
“I will,” Shaoyou said softly. “Thank you, doctor.”
Once the door closed behind him, the apartment grew quiet again. Shaoyou sat back down beside Hua Yong, still holding the piece of paper but not really reading it. His eyes drifted to Hua Yong, who was now lying back on the bed, looking at him with a pout.
“You didn’t have to call him. I told you, it doesn’t hurt that much. I don’t feel things like other people do.”
Shaoyou frowned, placing the paper on the nightstand before leaning closer. “That’s not the point, Hua Yong. Just because you don’t feel it the same way doesn’t mean you should ignore it.” His voice softened, though it wavered slightly. “It hurts me when you’re like this. Seeing you sick… it makes me feel helpless. Please don’t be stubborn next time.”
Hua Yong’s eyes softened at the tremor in his tone. “Shaoyou, baby…”
“Promise me you’ll take care of yourself,” Shaoyou whispered, his hand brushing the hair from Hua Yong’s damp forehead. “Or I’ll be sad. I mean it.”
There was a pause before Hua Yong gave a nod. “Okay,” he murmured. “I’m sorry.”
Before Shaoyou could respond, Hua Yong tugged lightly at his wrist, then at his waist, pulling him closer until Shaoyou’s balance tipped and he ended up half-lying on top of him.
Shaoyou sighed, but his heart softened instantly. “You’re really clingy when you’re sick,” he said, though the smile in his voice gave him away.
“Only with you,” Hua Yong mumbled, the hint of a smile tugging at his lips.
Shaoyou gave in easily, settling beside him, their bodies fitting together as naturally as breathing. He brushed their noses together, a small, playful touch that made Hua Yong’s expression soften further. For a while, neither of them spoke.
Then Shaoyou leaned in and kissed him. Hua Yong kissed him back weakly, his fingers curling against Shaoyou’s shirt as if to keep him close.
When they pulled away, Shaoyou stayed close, his forehead resting against Hua Yong’s. “Please get better soon,” he said, voice thick with affection. “I love you so much.”
Hua Yong looked at him for a moment, eyes glassy, before his lips curved in a smile. “I love you too,” he whispered, his words catching slightly.
Shaoyou pressed another soft kiss to his lips, then to his cheek, his heart melting as Hua Yong’s fingers brushed against his jaw in return.
For the first time that day, Hua Yong’s breathing began to even out and his fever was almost gone.
Shaoyou finally let himself relax, holding him close, wrapped in the comfort of their shared space.
The following morning, Shaoyou woke up first, the sound of birds outside slipping into the silence. He blinked slowly, the light brushing over his face, and for a brief moment, he forgot where he was.
Then he felt the weight against his chest, the warmth, the sound of breathing, the arm loosely draped around his waist. A smile tugged at his lips.
Hua Yong.
He was still there, nestled close, his face tucked against Shaoyou’s shirt. His fever had finally eased through the night; his skin no longer burned, his breathing was calm, his scent was no longer all over the place. Shaoyou stayed still, not wanting to wake him just yet. He ran his fingers gently through Hua Yong’s hair, tracing slow lines along the back of his neck, down to his shoulder. The soft strands tickled his fingers.
For the first time in hours, Shaoyou felt the knot in his chest loosen. The worry that had been sitting like a stone in his stomach all day finally began to fade. He tilted his head and pressed a kiss to Hua Yong’s hair, letting the scent of him sink in.
He hadn’t realized just how much the past day had shaken him until now. Seeing Hua Yong sick, vulnerable, weak, clinging to him and whispering please don’t leave, had broken something inside him. And yet, even now, in the light of morning, he still looked beautiful. His lashes resting against his cheeks, his lips were slightly parted, his expression peaceful.
Shaoyou smiled. “You’re so stubborn ,” he whispered, his voice no louder than the rustle of the curtains. “But I love you.”
He thought Hua Yong was still asleep until he felt the twitch of lips against his chest. Then, softly, a voice rasped, still thick with sleep. “You talk too much in the morning.”
Shaoyou froze, then laughed. “You’re awake.”
“Mm.” Hua Yong’s voice was hoarse, but lighter. He shifted, lifting his head slightly, eyes blinking open. They were glassy at first, dazed from sleep, but when they found Shaoyou’s face, they softened immediately. “You stayed with me all night?”
“Of course I did,” Shaoyou said, brushing a stray strand of hair away from his eyes. “Did you really think I’d leave you?”
A small smile touched Hua Yong’s lips, the kind that curved only one corner of his mouth. “You should’ve slept in the other room. I probably made you uncomfortable.”
“You think I’d sleep anywhere else while you were like that?” Shaoyou huffed, mock-offended, but his hand stayed tender where it rested on Hua Yong’s cheek. “Besides, look who’s feeling better enough to talk back already.”
Hua Yong’s laugh came out weak but genuine, and it made Shaoyou’s chest warm. “I do feel better,” he admitted, his fingers tracing lazy patterns against Shaoyou’s arm. “My head’s still heavy, but I can breathe now. And… I think my pheromones okay now.”
Shaoyou nodded, relief flashing through his eyes. “That’s good. The doctor said it was just fatigue and imbalance, but I was still worried. You scared me, you know that?”
“I told you I’d be fine,” Hua Yong murmured softly.
Shaoyou gave him a look, gentle, but unmistakably scolding. “You always say that. You act like you’re made of steel, but you’re not. You need to stop pushing yourself so hard.”
Hua Yong smiled, his tone teasing. “You sound like an old married alpha.”
Shaoyou rolled his eyes, though the tips of his ears flushed pink. “Well, maybe I wouldn’t have to if my husband actually listened once in a while.”
That made Hua Yong laugh, and it filled the room with warmth. “Alright,” he said finally, leaning closer until their foreheads touched. “I’ll listen. I’ll rest properly. Happy?”
Shaoyou smiled back, the kind that reached his eyes this time. “Very.”
They stayed like that for a moment, forehead to forehead, skin to skin. Then Hua Yong leaned forward and placed a light kiss on Shaoyou's lips. It was a small kiss, but full of sweetness, the kind that lingered longer than words could. When he pulled back, there was a glow in his eyes.
“Thank you,” he whispered. “For taking care of me.”
Shaoyou blinked. “You don’t have to thank me for that.”
“I do,” Hua Yong insisted, his voice a little shy, a little rough. “I know I can be difficult. You didn’t have to stay up all night or call the doctor or feed me burnt porridge.”
Shaoyou gasped dramatically. “Burnt? It wasn’t burnt!”
“It was,” Hua Yong murmured, his smile widening a fraction. “But it was good. Because you made it.”
That silenced Shaoyou for a second. “You’re really sappy when you’re sick.”
“Then maybe I should get sick more often,” Hua Yong teased.
Shaoyou frowned, then immediately pinched his cheek. “Don’t even joke about that.”
Hua Yong chuckled, rubbing the spot where Shaoyou had pinched him. “Okay, okay. No more overworking. No more late nights. I’ll rest properly.”
“Promise?”
“Promise.”
Satisfied, Shaoyou leaned in again, pressing their noses together the way he always did when he wanted to say I love you without words. Hua Yong responded in kind, their noses brushing lightly before he tilted his head and captured Shaoyou’s lips again.
Shaoyou tucked the blanket closer around Hua Yong after and said, “I’ll make breakfast.”
Hua Yong groaned immediately, burying his face in Shaoyou’s neck. “No, not your cooking again.”
“Hey,” Shaoyou protested, laughing despite himself. “You just said my porridge was good.”
“I said it was good because you made it,” Hua Yong mumbled against his skin. “Not because it tasted good.”
Shaoyou playfully tugged his hair. “Ungrateful patient.”
“Hopeless alpha,” Hua Yong replied, but the affection in his tone softened every word.
They stayed tangled up for a little longer, exchanging lazy kisses until Shaoyou finally slipped out of bed. The morning sunlight followed him as he walked to the kitchen, and for once, the air in their home felt peaceful again.
And when Hua Yong finally dozed off again, the smell of breakfast cooking drifted in from the kitchen; clumsy, and completely, unmistakably Shaoyou.