Chapter Text
Luo Wenzhou really tried to listen.
An elderly woman had reported that she’d seen the suspect, but when they arrived at her house, it turned out she couldn’t tell Tao Ran apart from a trash can.
Still, she stubbornly went on, insisting that she’d seen the man cross the street while watching the evening news.
Usually, Luo treated every possible lead seriously, even the absurd ones. But today, that was a struggle. His stomach growled unpleasantly, and he had to avert his gaze, forcing himself to stifle a burp as the woman began to recount the same story for the third time.
“Ma’am, thank you for your report. We’ll look into the matter,” he said.
“He was wearing a long black coat like those bad people wear, like a drug dealer! I’m telling you, officer, you have to catch him!” she exclaimed, striking her chest with her hand. “It used to be such a quiet neighborhood, you know. A family with two kids just moved in, terrible troublemakers, but everyone says, ‘kids will be kids.’ I’m telling you, they’ll grow up to be just as suspicious as that dark-haired man you’re looking for,” she added obstinately.
“Brunet,” Luo corrected her, his tone sharper than usual.
Tao Ran glanced at him, raising an amused brow at his uncharacteristic lack of diplomacy and the absence of his usual shameless charm, something he typically deployed on everyone, regardless of whether it was an old lady, a young guy, or a homeless wanderer. Ever since he’d been in a stable relationship, that tiny voice in the back of his head telling him not to push too far lest he’d have to explain himself later had gone quiet. Now, Fei Du was his ultimate shield whenever he said one word too many and someone actually seemed ready to jump into his bed.
“Ma’am, we truly appreciate your report. But you don’t have any useful information for us, you’re wasting our time, and we need to get back to work,” Luo said finally, irritation leaking into his voice.
The woman glared at him as if pointing out her inappropriate behavior were a personal insult to at least five generations of her family.
“I want your badge number,” she demanded, staring straight at him.
Luo Wenzhou and Tao Ran had no problem giving her their numbers, but it took another ten minutes of her ominous ranting about how the police didn’t take their job seriously and trampled citizens’ rights before they could finally escape and get back into the car.
“You okay, Wenzhou?” Tao Ran asked as they got in. For once, he was the one behind the wheel. “You look a bit… off,” he noted.
“I’m fine,” Luo replied, even though his stomach lurched unpleasantly as the car joined traffic.
“You were a bit snappy back there. Trouble in paradise?” Tao Ran teased, glancing sideways at him.
“Fei Du and I are fine,” Luo said evenly. “That woman was just irritating; there was no point in standing there listening to her nonsense. She probably didn’t see the suspect at all.” He sighed, leaning his head back against the headrest, breathing slowly. The slight rocking of the car made his already uneasy stomach worse. “If she had any idea why we’re looking for him, she wouldn’t have said a word about drug dealing.”
Tao Ran laughed, seeing Luo’s exasperated expression. Captain Luo was right, the suspect had nothing to do with drugs. More likely with illegal organ trade, organs are procured in ways that are anything but legal. Opening a morgue and signing contracts with several hospitals so that all patients who died en route were delivered directly to him, where he’d extract their organs while they were still warm, and sell them to interested buyers, often transported by the very same ambulance that had brought the bodies.
“Yeah,” Tao Ran said. “This case is driving me crazy, too. It’s like the suspect cut himself up and hid the pieces somewhere.”
“Mhmm.” Luo agreed, a small frown creasing his brow.
His stomach didn’t improve when they returned to the precinct. In fact, it got worse. Everything inside him churned and twisted, leaving him deeply uncomfortable, but, as the responsible adult man he was, Luo clenched his jaw and sat down at his desk to go over the evidence once more, hoping he might notice something they’d previously missed.
“Luo Wenzhou!” Director Lu’s voice rang sharply from the doorway of his office. “Why did I just spend over half an hour on the phone with a concerned citizen complaining about your behavior? Care to explain?” he demanded, instantly drawing the attention of Luo’s weary team.
Tao Ran, standing nearby with a stack of folders he’d been about to drop off, spoke up.
“She filed a report claiming she’d seen the suspect. She was adamant it was the man from the news, so we were notified and went to check in person,” Tao Ran said quickly, stepping in to defend his captain and friend. “On site, she couldn’t tell the difference between three different photos of three different men. We listened to her statement and tried to leave, but…” he cleared his throat, not the least bit embarrassed. “She wouldn’t let us go, kept blocking our way. Captain Luo simply told her, truthfully, that she didn’t have any useful information and that we needed to get back to work.”
Luo would’ve added something, but suddenly he felt hot all over, and a metallic taste filled his mouth.
“She said…” Director Lu lifted a notepad, apparently full of notes from his fascinating phone call with the old woman. “That you were rude, unhelpful, and bigoted.”
Tao Ran snorted.
“Interesting. Was she describing us or herself? Because I’m pretty sure she checks all those boxes,” he replied dryly.
Director Lu frowned at that, then turned his gaze directly on Luo Wenzhou.
“Captain Luo? Anything you’d like to say?”
Luo Wenzhou opened his mouth, already planning some witty retort. He could’ve said she forgot to add that he was also gay, but he shut his mouth again just as quickly and swallowed hard instead.
“Wenzhou, are you okay?” Tao Ran asked, frowning in concern.
Luo’s stomach twisted, and he knew there was no saving him this time.
“I’m sorry…” he managed, before turning and vomiting straight into the trash can beside his desk.
“Ugh!” Director Lu exclaimed, startled. “Luo Wenzhou, what the hell?”
Luo spat into the trash can. The sharp taste of stomach acid burned his throat, mouth, and even his nose.
“I’m sorry, sir,” he croaked.
Tao Ran hurried over to the small fridge still standing in the corner of Luo’s office, the same one Fei Du had installed the first time he’d visited. It was always stocked with mineral water and healthy, non-carbonated drinks. He grabbed a bottle, opened it, and handed it over.
Luo Wenzhou took a careful sip, rinsing his mouth. The cool liquid soothed his raw throat for a moment, but he felt even worse than before. A chill ran through him; he trembled, his stomach tightening again, though he was sure there was nothing left inside.
“Luo Wenzhou, if you’re sick, get out of here and go home,” Director Lu ordered, keeping his expression stern even as genuine worry flickered behind his eyes. “We don’t need you infecting anyone else.”
“I’m fine, Director Lu. Really,” Luo said, only to pale suddenly and double over the trash can again.
“No, you’re clearly not fine,” Lu said flatly. He turned toward the door but paused in the frame, glancing back at Luo’s trembling figure. For a brief second, genuine concern shone through his strict demeanor. “Get out of here. And don’t come back until you can keep down lunch,” he added, walking away without another look.
“Cap Luo, are you okay?” Lang Qiao poked her head into his office.
“I’m fine,” he rasped, wincing as even the smallest vibration of his vocal cords deepened the burning pain in his throat. He took another sip of cold water, waiting for it to dull the ache before he spoke again. “It’s probably just something I ate…”
“You look more like something’s eating you,” Lang Qiao replied, and then her eyes sparkled with excitement. “Cap Luo! Are you pregnant?!” she shouted loud enough for the entire office to hear. Several officers turned to stare.
Luo groaned and shook his head, despairing at his colleague’s imagination. He grabbed the empty bottle on his desk and threw it at her. He hadn’t realized vomiting would leave him so weak; the bottle didn’t even make it halfway to her.
“I don’t know what kind of crazy, filthy novels you’re reading this time,” he said, mustering enough energy to stand and reach for another bottle of water from the fridge, “but for the record, no. In our universe, men don’t get pregnant. And I’m one hundred percent certain I’m a perfectly healthy, normal male member of the human species.”
“Do you want me to drive you home?” Tao Ran asked, his voice full of concern. He watched Luo carefully, like a child holding a fragile porcelain figurine, afraid it would shatter at any moment, yet not daring to help without permission.
“No,” Luo shook his head, gripping the edge of the desk tightly. “I’ll manage.”
“Text me when you get home, so I know you made it,” Tao Ran insisted.
+++
Luckily, Luo Wenzhou lived only fifteen minutes away by car, and even the traffic seemed to be on his side that day, he didn’t hit a single jam. Which was fortunate, because driving felt unbearable. His stomach cramped and knotted in waves, and he had to focus on breathing in through his nose and out through his mouth, as if that alone could keep him from losing his mind or pulling over to throw up again.
He parked in the spot Fei Du had bought last year, after finally conceding defeat in his long campaign to convince Luo to move somewhere else.
Turning off the ignition, Luo forced himself to get out of the car, remembering to lock the door behind him. He stood leaning against the side of the vehicle for a full five minutes, just breathing. Finally, he clenched his jaw, managing to suppress another wave of nausea though he couldn’t imagine what was left for his stomach to eject. It felt like the organ had developed a will of its own, conspiring with Fei Du’s earlier idea of “starting a diet” to get rid of the extra weight Luo had gained from months of peace and regular home-cooked meals.
He started toward the building entrance. Every step felt like the last, like he was walking to his own execution.
With trembling hands, he unlocked the door to the apartment, stumbled inside, and didn’t even check whether the door closed behind him or if Luo Yiguo the cat had darted out into the hallway. He made straight for the bathroom, barely reaching the toilet before he vomited violently again.
Groaning, he flushed and used the sink to pull himself upright. He felt awful, worse than he could remember feeling in years. The last time might’ve been that massive hangover after his police academy graduation party… but gods, that had been over a decade ago.
He knew he needed to hydrate before heading to the bedroom and collapsing on the bed, so, moving slowly and with some effort, he made his way to the kitchen in search of one of Fei Du’s imported isotonic drinks. He knew there was always a stash of them somewhere and hoped they contained enough electrolytes and sugar to get him back on his feet.
He walked carefully, his stomach sending sharp, stabbing waves of pain upward at regular intervals.
Then he froze when he heard a soft thump. He blinked slowly, realizing it must have been Luo Yiguo, the cat disturbed from his nap by all the noise. But soon after the light, quick patter of paws, another sound followed: measured, unhurried footsteps. A moment later, Fei Du appeared in the hallway, hair tousled, wearing a soft sweater and slippers.
“Wenzhou? Darling, what are you doing up?” he asked in a deep, sleepy voice, clearly just roused from a nap.
Luo glanced at the clock on the oven. It was nearly noon, so Fei Du must have decided to play hooky from work today.
“Director Lu sent me home,” Luo said, bending slightly to reach for an electric-blue drink from the back of the fridge. The bold English label promised extra electrolytes, exactly what he needed.
“He sent you home?” Fei Du’s brow furrowed as he came closer, a mix of confusion and worry on his face. “Why? What happened?”
Luo straightened up with his prize in hand, grimacing as his stomach clenched sharply.
“He thinks I’m sick,” he said simply, wrestling with the oddly designed bottle cap. Was he supposed to pull it or twist it? Why were Fei Du’s imported drinks always so damn complicated…
“He thinks you’re sick?” Fei Du repeated, stepping closer. His gaze sharpened quickly, losing that soft, sleepy warmth it carried for a fleeting moment after waking up. Luo regretted wasting that view because of a stupid bottle. “Why does he think that?”
Luo winced.
“Probably because I nearly threw up on his shoes,” he admitted sheepishly.
“You vomited?” Fei Du was only a step away now. He closed the distance at once, pressing the back of his hand to Luo’s forehead to check for a fever. “Oh, sweetheart,” he murmured, clearly worried. Then, noticing Luo’s ongoing struggle with the bottle, he smiled faintly and demonstrated once again how to open those cursed foreign caps.
“It’s fine. Probably just something I ate,” Luo said, trying to downplay the situation.
Fei Du’s expression didn’t soften. He checked his watch and sighed.
“I have a meeting in an hour…” he murmured, already calculating. “I could move it to tomorrow at six, but then we’d have to cancel our reservation at Mino…”
“God, no,” Luo said quickly. The last thing he wanted was Fei Du witnessing him throwing up again and again. “I’ll just lie down and sleep it off. I’ll be fine in a few hours.”
His stomach seemed to develop a mind of its own because the moment he said that, it tightened painfully again. He swallowed hard, clenching his jaw and his fist around the bottle.
“Are you sure?” Fei Du asked softly, running his hand along Luo’s shoulder. He felt his lover tremble beneath his touch. “I hate leaving you like this,” he said quietly, slipping off his sweater and draping it around Luo’s shoulders.
“Don’t worry, I can take care of myself,” Luo reassured him, feeling the comforting warmth of the sweater and the grounding weight of Fei Du’s hand. For a moment, it stopped his shivering. “I’ll just sleep it off. Nothing bad will happen, Mr. Worried,” he added, trying to lighten the mood with a teasing smile.
“Mhm,” Fei Du finally replied.
He disappeared into the bedroom for barely five minutes, and when he returned, the transformation was complete. The tousled hair was gone, replaced by a perfectly styled look. The soft sweater and slippers were exchanged for a tailored suit and polished shoes. The gentle glow in his eyes was replaced by the glint of steel behind rimless glasses and that confident, calculating stare Luo knew so well.
Luo raised his electrolyte drink in mock salute to the miracle that was Fei Du and the duality of the man he had learned to live with over the years they’d shared a bed.
“Remember to stay hydrated,” Fei Du said calmly as he approached, moving with the smooth, deliberate grace of a hunting panther. “If anything happens, don’t wait, call me, or go straight to the hospital.” His gaze conveyed all the emotions he refused to voice aloud. “Your health is more important than any meeting, understand?” He leaned down and pressed a kiss to Luo’s cheek, his hand brushing softly along Luo’s neck in a tender, soothing gesture.
“Ugh, I smell like shit,” Luo muttered, nudging him away with his shoulder. Even Fei Du’s enticing, sophisticated cologne was making his stomach twist now, though on normal days, that very scent made his mouth water with the urge to kiss him. Now, he just felt like dying.
“Rest,” Fei Du insisted, stepping back obediently.
“I will,” Luo promised, swallowing thickly again.
It was for moments like this, for that quiet, genuine concern, that Luo knew it was all worth it. No matter how often he and Fei Du fought or disagreed, the knowledge that, deep down, Fei Du truly loved him made everything else worth enduring.
He waited until the door closed behind Fei Du with a dull thud before heading toward the bedroom. Halfway there, his steps wavered, and he detoured back to the bathroom. The few sips of the electrolyte drink he’d managed to swallow clearly weren’t interested in staying in his stomach.
Eventually, he made it to the bedroom, collapsed onto the bed, and curled up on his side in a fetal position, silently begging his stomach to stop tormenting him.
Time passed strangely, sometimes fast, sometimes unbearably slow. Between one blink and the next, five minutes could pass or barely a second. He was hot, then cold. His body ached, his stomach clenched and spasmed so violently that black spots danced before his eyes.
He tried to read the case files on his phone, but he was too restless; even scrolling through social media couldn’t hold his attention while waves of pain kept stabbing through his abdomen.
He tried to sleep, but the discomfort was too much. He drifted in a half-conscious haze, never fully awake, never truly asleep. Too hot, then too cold, limbs tangled in the sheets, never sinking into the peaceful darkness of real rest.
He had no idea how much time passed before the sound of his phone ringing tore him out of his misery.
“Hello?” he rasped, his throat raw and aching as he managed to answer.
“How are you feeling?” Fei Du’s voice came through immediately, quick, alert. Luo could tell he was walking fast, taking long strides.
Luo cleared his throat, pushing himself up slightly on the mattress.
“Fine. I’m fine,” he said, closing his eyes as the room spun around him.
“Are you sure?” Fei Du pressed, worry creeping into his voice. In the background, Luo could hear people calling out, “President Fei,” several times. “You don’t sound fine,” Fei insisted.
“I was sleeping,” Luo lied, grimacing both from the lie itself and from the sharp pain flaring again in his stomach.
“Oh…” Fei Du muttered softly, surprised. Luo could picture him frowning in thought before he spoke again, his voice quieter and calmer. “Have you eaten anything?”
Just the thought made Luo’s stomach twist and churn like a wrung-out towel.
“Not yet,” he replied briefly.
“Try to eat something. I'm... ” someone interrupted Fei Du mid-sentence, their voice raised and indistinct on the other end. “I’ll be back as soon as I can,” he promised before the call ended.
Luo closed his eyes.
The next time he blinked, his stomach seized so violently that he couldn’t breathe. He doubled over the toilet, pain stabbing through him, but nothing came out. He stayed like that, bent over, trembling, retching dryly for who knew how long, until the spasm finally passed. Then he slumped onto the cold tiles, shaking, aching, and freezing.
“Huh…” he exhaled weakly, blinking and forcing his eyes to focus on his surroundings. He didn’t know when he’d made it to the bathroom, where his shirt had gone, or even what time it was.
He swallowed hard, leaned his head against the wall, and closed his eyes. He prayed honestly to any deity that might be listening for whatever this was to end soon.
He was truly glad Fei Du hadn’t seen him in such a pitiful state… and yet, a part of him wished Fei Du were there, holding him, whispering that he’d take care of this enemy for him.
He sighed tiredly and let his eyes drift shut again. He didn’t know how long it would be before he opened them next.
+++
Fei Du gripped his phone tightly, his long strides echoing down the corridor as he headed for the elevator. His assistant had to practically run to keep up with him, her heels clicking frantically against the floor, and still she lagged behind.
“President Fei, you must !” she called after him, trying to get him to stop, but he didn’t so much as glance her way.
Once again, he heard the long, hollow tone of an unanswered call. He hung up before it reached voicemail and immediately dialed the number again. His eyes were narrowed dangerously, his gaze sharp and determined. He glanced at the clock on his phone before pressing it to his ear once more, waiting for the line to connect.
More time passed than he’d expected. He should have known board meetings were never quick, never pleasant, and rarely went according to plan. It had been three hours since he’d last heard Luo Wenzhou’s voice.
On any other ordinary day, that wouldn’t have mattered. But when he left, Luo had looked awful, and during their phone call, he hadn’t sounded any better.
Fei Du wanted to believe Luo was a grown man, capable of asking for help if things got bad, but this was Luo Wenzhou. And Fei Du knew his lover had the self-preservation instincts of a five-year-old. More than that, Luo hated appearing weak, hated asking for help, and above all, he despised hospitals. It was as if the mere thought of a hospital bed magically cured him.
Fei Du could count on one hand the number of times he’d actually seen Luo lying in a hospital bed. Far more often, he’d seen him grimacing through pain, brushing off injuries, refusing treatment altogether.
The elevator doors slid open, and Fei Du stepped inside. His assistant, Miao, barely managed to squeeze in before they closed.
“You still need to sign the partnership agreement. I have the revised version in the office and also…” she began quickly, slightly out of breath, “Legal just informed me there’s a new lawsuit, and we also have ” she went on, listing items while glancing nervously at the decreasing floor numbers in the display.
“Do Jia, get the car ready,” Fei Du said into his phone once someone finally picked up the call.
Assistant Miao looked at him in confusion until he met her gaze.
“Luo Wenzhou isn’t answering my calls,” he said simply, as if that explained everything. And in a way, it did. Miao nodded quickly, as though that single statement had rewritten her entire schedule.
When they reached the parking lot, Miao kicked off her high heels to move faster, nearly matching Fei Du’s pace. The car, with Do Jia at the wheel, was already waiting.
They sped off, tires screeching.
To an outsider, it might have looked overly dramatic and overprotective partner in a panic. Anyone unfamiliar with Fei Du might have thought he was possessive, controlling, and obsessive. But Do Jia and Miao had known both men for years. They knew the only thing that could ever stop Luo Wenzhou from answering one of Fei Du’s calls was death, especially when Fei Du was calling before his board meeting had even ended.
When they reached the apartment building, Fei Du was the first to jump out, Do Jia right behind him, while Miao, ever composed even in crisis, took the time to slip on the spare flats she kept stashed in Fei Du’s car for situations exactly like this.
Fei Du left the front door wide open behind him and headed straight for the bedroom. The last thing he knew, Luo Wenzhou had been asleep. There was still a slim chance he had simply dozed off again, resting after the food poisoning episode.
“Wenzhou?” he called.
No response. And deep down, Fei Du already knew something was wrong.
The bedroom door was open, but the bed was empty. The sheets were rumpled but cold, in a way that said Luo had been there, but not for some time.
The air smelled faintly of sweat and vomit, an acrid scent that made Fei Du’s sharp senses prickle. On the nightstand sat the half-empty bottle of electrolyte drink he’d opened earlier and Luo’s phone.
“Wenzhou!” he called louder, hoping for any sign of life. He crossed to the window and pushed it open instinctively before resuming his search.
“Du?”
The voice was hoarse, weak, and Fei Du spun toward the adjoining bathroom. It used to be the guest room, the one Luo had claimed years ago, because it was close to the front door and had a private bathroom.
Fei Du blinked once, twice, and then he was already moving, rushing through the doorway to find Luo Wenzhou sitting on the bathroom floor in nothing but boxers, drenched in sweat, trembling, his back pressed weakly against the wall.
Fei Du dropped to his knees in front of him, his expression cracking open with fear. He ran his hands over Luo’s forehead and face, and panic clawed at his chest when he felt the burning heat radiating from his skin.
“Hey, sweetheart,” he whispered, patting Luo’s cheek gently with his open palm. “Wenzhou… can you hear me?” he asked, watching as Luo’s eyes drifted, unfocused, unable to lock onto him.
“Du… I can’t…” Luo’s voice was small, frightened despite his exhaustion. His body lurched forward, and Fei Du caught him before his head hit the toilet. His own stomach twisted painfully, but his was from terror, not illness.
“Do Jia!” Fei Du shouted toward the door. Heavy, hurried footsteps echoed in response. “It’s okay, love. I’ve got you,” he murmured, rubbing Luo’s arms in agitation, feeling how hot his skin burned under his touch.
Luo only shook his head weakly, using what little strength he had just to breathe and stay conscious.
“President Fei?” Do Jia called, stopping at the bedroom doorway. Behind him stood the smaller silhouette of Assistant Miao.
“He’s burning up,” Fei Du said, supporting Luo’s limp frame. “Help me get him to the bed,” he ordered, all traces of the calm, composed executive gone. He wasn’t a CEO now, just a terrified man trying to take care of the person he loved.
“Get the medical kit,” Do Jia told Miao, dropping the usual formality they used even in private.
Do Jia crouched beside Luo, sliding an arm under his shoulder while Fei Du wrapped an arm around his waist. Together, they lifted him off the cold tiles.
Luo groaned as they moved him out of the bathroom.
“I know, I know, love,” Fei Du murmured softly, trying to calm him. “You’re okay. I know, everything’s fine. We’re just getting you back to bed, alright?” he coaxed as Luo’s legs trembled, his body sagging heavily against him. Do Jia took as much of his weight as he could, but instinctively, Luo clung to Fei Du; his body knew who it could trust.
Miao returned quickly, hauling what no ordinary person would ever call a first aid kit, a massive case marked with a red cross that reached her hip. She opened it and began pulling out supplies with practiced efficiency as Fei Du and Do Jia gently laid Luo on the bed.
“Do Jia, check his pulse,” Fei Du ordered, getting up from the mattress where he’d briefly sat to ease Luo down. He strode toward the case, grabbing a small device and pressing it into Miao’s hands. “Take his blood pressure.”
Fei Du paused for a single second, looking down at his usually strong, composed, beautiful partner now reduced to such a fragile state.
“His pulse is fast,” Do Jia reported, breaking through Fei Du’s silence.
“BP’s low,” Assistant Miao added.
“And his temperature’s still rising,” said Do Jia, reaching for the thermometer Fei Du handed him. “Exactly thirty-nine degrees Celsius.”
“Captain Luo? Can you hear me?” Miao asked when Luo Wenzhou’s eyelids fluttered, but didn’t fully open. There was no response.
Fei Du allowed himself precisely two seconds of panic. His lover was lying there motionless, his heart still beating, his chest still rising and falling, but… Fei Du’s gaze drifted down to Luo’s abdomen, where that telltale little fold of softness had appeared, the same one that had sparked their argument the week before. Fei Du had insisted they both start a light diet and exercise more. Luo, however, preferred spending his evenings on the couch watching TV and eating cookies rather than worrying about a little extra weight, blood pressure, or cholesterol.
He leaned over and palpated Luo’s abdomen gently, careful and methodical. Luo let out a weak groan when Fei Du pressed directly over his stomach.
“His abdomen’s soft. I don’t think it’s appendicitis,” Fei Du commented, then ran his hands carefully up Luo’s chest. “Looks like severe dehydration. Let’s get some fluids into him.”
Miao was already at the medical case, pulling out IV bags of saline and potassium solution. She handed Fei Du the needle for the IV. His movements were sure and steady as he slid it into Luo’s forearm. Do Jia, meanwhile, had fetched an IV stand from the hallway, the same one that had infamously fallen over on them years ago when he and Luo had been making out. Fei Du exhaled through the cannula, purged the air, and adjusted the drip rate to something fast but safe.
The IV began to flow into Luo’s vein. All they could do now was wait.
Fei Du turned and went to the bathroom to fetch a basin of cool water and a few clean cloths. Without caring that he had an audience, he began wiping Luo’s fevered skin with calm, deliberate strokes. When he could feel, even without a thermometer, that the temperature had begun to drop, he covered Luo with a blanket enough to keep him warm but also to preserve some modesty. Not that Luo had ever cared much about that, but even so, no matter that Do Jia was hopelessly in love with Miao Fei, Du wasn’t about to let another man look at his Luo Wenzhou half-naked. He was jealous, and he wasn’t ashamed to admit it.
Luo wasn’t fully unconscious the entire time, but neither was he completely aware. His breathing was harsh and uneven, his limbs trembling restlessly, eyelids flickering in involuntary spasms. Sometimes his head turned slightly toward the sounds around him.
Fei Du sat beside him on the bed, gently running his fingers through Luo’s damp, sweaty hair. He bit his lip as worry and guilt ate away at him.
“I didn’t think it would get this bad in just a few hours…” he murmured. “If I’d known, I never would’ve left him,” he added, trying to convince himself.
He cleared his throat and forced himself to calm down, changing the cool compress on Luo’s forehead for a fresh one. Luo’s skin was damp, but definitely cooler than before.
“If you have those documents you mentioned earlier, Assistant Miao, I’ll review them later,” he said pointedly, an unmistakable cue for both of them to leave his line of sight. “There’s an excellent coffee machine in the kitchen,” he added politely.
Luo stirred suddenly, with more intention this time, and Fei Du’s full attention snapped back to him. Luo blinked several times, trying to focus his gaze.
“Wenzhou, sweetheart? Can you hear me?” Fei Du asked, brushing a hand across his cheek.
“Fei Du?” Luo shifted restlessly, and Fei Du placed a firm hand on his shoulder, gently pressing him back into the mattress, not wanting him to move too much or risk dislodging the IV still only half-empty.
“Hey, Wenzhou… how are you feeling?” Fei Du asked softly, his eyes never leaving his partner, ignoring his staff retreating quietly from the room.
Luo let out a low groan, swallowed, and shook his head.
“Bad,” he said at last, honestly.
Fei Du huffed out a quiet laugh, then swatted his arm lightly, not enough to hurt, just to make a point. Luo grimaced, wisely realizing this was something Fei Du wouldn’t let him forget anytime soon.
“Alright,” Fei Du said finally, nodding toward the IV with his chin. Luo followed his gaze. “We’re giving you fluids. It should help. Just give it a few more minutes and we’ll see how you’re doing,” he said, his voice a blend of irritation and worry. “What happened?” he asked as Luo looked back at him.
“I don’t know,” Luo admitted. “My stomach just… I couldn’t stop throwing up. I don’t remember what happened after. I was in the bathroom, and then I just… I don’t know.” His voice was faint, rough, and exhausted. Fei Du rubbed the side of his neck gently, then took another damp cloth and laid it over his throat to cool his fevered skin.
“Okay, I understand,” Fei Du said calmly. “Did you eat or drink anything while I was gone?”
“Nothing stays down,” Luo rasped, his voice hoarse from hours of vomiting. “My stomach hurts from it.” He added the complaint simply because he could, because right now he didn’t care if he sounded like a whining child. Around Fei Du… he never wanted to appear pathetic or weak, yet at the same time, he knew he could be and that he didn’t have to be ashamed of it.
“I should’ve come back sooner…” Fei Du murmured, lowering his head slightly.
The IV bag was nearly empty now. Luo’s color was slowly returning; his breathing steadied, deeper and calmer, though his throat still burned with every word.
It had been at least an hour since Fei Du had found him on the bathroom floor. When the drip was nearly finished, Fei Du finally stood. Luo blinked slowly, looking around as Fei Du walked to the IV stand and adjusted the flow rate.
“Do you have a private doctor?” Luo asked, glancing around. His voice sounded a little better now.
“You have a private doctor,” Fei Du corrected, and Luo blinked in confusion, a puzzled look crossing his face. Fei Du chuckled, reaching for the thermometer and aiming it at Luo’s skin to check his current temperature.
“I know how much you hate hospitals and doctors, so…” he pointed the thermometer at himself to make sure it was working, “a psychologist is almost a doctor,” he joked lightly. “And with my connections, it was a lot easier to adjust the certification schedule. Officially, I’m now qualified as a medical first responder,” he explained patiently, his voice calm and steady.
Luo Wenzhou sank back into the bed, his head falling against the pillow.
“So now you’re the one who’s going to stab me with needles?” he asked, his voice dripping with weary irritation.
“I can put on a sexy nurse outfit if it’ll help you get over your hatred of hospitals and proper medical care,” Fei Du replied smoothly.
Luo Wenzhou let out a laugh, but it quickly broke into a fit of coughing that scraped at his raw throat.
“You’re a danger to society,” he muttered hoarsely when he finally caught his breath.
“You’re a danger to yourself,” Fei Du countered, reaching for the bottle of water on the nightstand and handing it to him.
Luo’s hand trembled as he lifted the bottle to his lips and took a small, hesitant sip, then another. He managed a few unsteady gulps before the bottle tilted precariously in his shaking grip. Fei Du reached out quickly, steadying it before Luo could embarrass himself by spilling it all over. He gently took the bottle from his fingers and set it back on the nightstand.
“Your temperature’s gone down, and your blood pressure looks a lot better, too,” Fei Du said. “How’s your stomach?”
“Still hurts,” Luo admitted, curling his legs slightly as if that could somehow ease the pain.
Fei Du looked up when a soft knock came from the doorway. Do Jia stood there, holding a bowl in both hands.
“I warmed up some broth,” he said quietly, looking a little embarrassed, a faint blush coloring his cheeks. Fei Du couldn’t help but wonder what had happened between him and Assistant Miao in the kitchen, but that was a question for another time.
He rose from his knees, walked over, and accepted the bowl.
“Thank you. I don’t think I’ll need any more help tonight,” Fei Du said calmly. Do Jia nodded quickly, offering to drive Miao home.
Once they were alone, Fei Du sat down on the bed beside Luo Wenzhou, helping him sit up by adjusting the pillows behind his back until he was comfortably propped up.
“I think you should try to eat a little,” Fei Du said, rubbing his thigh through the blanket.
Luo made a face.
“My stomach still hurts,” he complained, his expression far more fitting for a sulky toddler refusing vegetables than for a grown man.
“You threw up everything you had in your stomach,” Fei Du said gently. “The IV will help with dehydration, but unless you eat something, something warm, your stomach won’t stop hurting. Now it’ll just hurt from being empty.”
Luo didn’t look convinced.
“Hey,” Fei Du said softly, cupping his face in both hands. “I’m here. I’ll take care of you. What happened earlier won’t happen again. I promise.” His tone was firm but full of warmth, and Luo could feel every ounce of sincerity and love in it. “Just try, okay? One spoonful at a time. Slowly. Please?”
Luo swallowed hard but nodded. Fei Du smiled wider, then leaned forward and pressed a gentle kiss to his forehead. He picked up the bowl, holding it in one hand, the spoon in the other. He scooped a little broth, blew on it, and brought it to Luo’s lips. Luo gave in, opening his mouth.
The broth was rich, salty enough for his tongue to recognize flavor again, something that wasn’t the bitter taste of bile. It slid easily down his sore throat and into his stomach, warm and strangely comforting.
Fei Du didn’t rush him, just as he’d promised. After the first spoonful, he waited a few seconds, and only when Luo nodded did he offer another.
In the end, Luo managed to eat nearly half the bowl before he began to feel warmth spreading through his stomach, pleasant but worrisome at the same time. He turned his head away from the next spoonful, and Fei Du didn’t insist; he simply set the bowl down on the nightstand.
“Happy now?” Luo asked tiredly, his eyelids drooping, his body relaxing as the inner warmth spread through him.
“I won’t be happy until you’re feeling better,” Fei Du replied immediately.
The IV was nearly empty, so Fei Du detached it carefully, removing the cannula from Luo’s arm. He spent a few moments rummaging through the medical case before straightening up, satisfied, holding a small IV cap in his hand.
“How about a bath?” he asked as he sealed the IV line. “I wiped you down earlier, but I think a bit of relaxation in a warm bath with essential oils might help you unwind.”
Luo made a soft sound of agreement, not even bothering to argue.
Before Fei Du could leave the room to prepare the bath, Luo blinked, regaining a hint of alertness.
“You don’t have to do that,” he said after him, his voice tired but much clearer than before.
“I want to,” Fei Du replied simply. “Let me take care of you, okay? The way you take care of the whole city. It makes me feel better.”
There was a spark in his eyes as he said it, and in that moment, Luo couldn’t even find the strength to argue.
“Okay… fine,” he gave in, too exhausted to argue about anything that could turn into a fight. “Yeah, a bath sounds really, really good,” he admitted at last.
Fei Du returned to his side, leaning over his almost-sleeping lover to press a kiss to his forehead. He brushed his hair back, running his fingers gently through it, scratching lightly at Luo Wenzhou’s scalp in slow, soothing motions.
“Call me if you start feeling worse,” he said softly, and only after getting a sleepy nod of agreement did he turn to prepare the bath.
+++
Luo Wenzhou ended up spending over an hour in the warm water, surrounded by the calming scent of herbs and black tea. Drifting in the hazy space between sleep and wakefulness, lying safely on the non-slip mat, he barely noticed when Fei Du left him alone for a few minutes. During that time, Fei Du changed into something more comfortable, looser, casual home clothes. He opened most of the apartment windows to let in a draft, aired out the space, and then set about disinfecting the old bedroom and its attached bathroom. He stripped the sheets and gathered everything: the bedding, pillows, and even the mattress topper to send to the cleaners.
When he returned to the bathroom, Luo Wenzhou was standing unsteadily by the sink, struggling to pull on a pair of sweatpants. His legs trembled, his thighs tense, his brow furrowed in visible frustration as he fought with the fabric.
“Oh,” Fei Du said, stepping forward quickly to steady him before he could fall. “You should’ve called me,” he scolded gently.
“I don’t like feeling helpless,” Luo said, his voice tight with frustration.
“I know,” Fei Du agreed quietly, guiding him toward the bed with care. “But now you should try to rest a bit. When you wake up, I think you’ll feel much better.”
“Is that a doctor’s order?” Luo asked, attempting to sound like his usual teasing self, but winced again when his stomach twisted unpleasantly. He didn’t feel like he was going to vomit again, but the discomfort lingered. “What if I feel like this forever?” he asked sadly.
“Don’t worry. You’ll be fine.” Fei Du brushed his damp hair back and grabbed a towel, carefully drying it before he could fall asleep. “Tao Ran called while you were in the bath, checking on you. Apparently, most of the precincts are down with the same virus. A few even ended up in the hospital, including Director Lu,” he said, not bothering to hide the gossip, hoping it would lift Luo’s spirits.
“Oh… I should call him back,” Luo said, reaching for his phone, but Fei Du was faster. He intercepted the movement and tucked the phone into his own pocket.
“I told him you’re out of commission,” Fei Du replied calmly. “He didn’t sound too good himself; he’s probably kissing the toilet by now. You don’t want to get between them.”
That earned him a faint laugh from Luo, who sank under the blanket. Every movement sent tiny ripples of discomfort up his stomach.
“Come here,” Fei Du said, settling beside him on the bed. He gently pulled Luo’s head onto his lap and began threading his fingers through his hair. “Close your eyes.”
Luo did as he was told, relaxing under Fei Du’s touch. Those long, elegant fingers knew every weak spot on his body, massaging, rubbing, tugging, kneading gently until Luo’s head went blissfully, comfortingly blank.
“I love you,” Fei Du whispered, leaning over him. “Very, very much.”
“How can you say that after cleaning up my vomit?” Luo mumbled, wrinkling his nose at the memory, still keeping his eyes closed.
“Because that’s what love is,” Fei Du said softly, his voice tender. “Love is being here with you through all of it. Every day. Every moment. The good and the bad ”
“And the really disgusting,” Luo interrupted, muttering under his breath.
“You’re far too handsome to ever be disgusting,” Fei Du assured him, leaning down to press a light kiss on the tip of his nose. “Even when you’re throwing up.”
“Oh god, stop…” Luo groaned. “Don’t make me laugh. I have a dangerously sexy nurse in my bed, and I don’t want to die from laughter before I can take advantage of him.” He paused to steady his breathing, then cracked one eye open, his gaze glimmering with amusement. “Do you actually have a sexy nurse outfit?” he asked curiously.
Fei Du chuckled, his smile softening his face, making him look younger, lighter at least now that his beloved was safe and lying in his lap.
“Mhm,” he confirmed. “If you promise to be a good patient, I might put it on for you later.”
Luo exhaled dramatically, grinning.
“Are you trying to revive me or kill me? Because if we have sex right now, I might not survive until morning,” he said, tired but teasing.
“That could still be a useful health indicator,” Fei Du quipped, eyes gleaming wickedly. “If you can get an erection, I’d say you’re on the mend.”
Luo glanced down along his body under the blanket. Nothing stirred. He sighed quietly, disappointed.
“Go to sleep,” Fei Du said again. “I’ll be here when you wake up. And I’ll happily clean your blood, your sweat, your tears, and your vomit. I’ll even parade around in a sexy nurse costume if it helps you recover.”
Luo opened his eyes, blinking at him slowly.
“I know you’re trying to be sweet and romantic, but that’s really disgusting, Fei Du,” he said, amused.
Fei Du shrugged.
“What can I say? I could’ve fallen for a well-bred, wealthy man with actual self-preservation instincts…” he sighed dramatically. “But no, I fell in love with an old man and his cat.”
Luo chuckled and pinched Fei Du’s thigh.
“Good to know you could’ve done better,” he said playfully.
“I could have,” Fei Du said with a sly spark in his eye, “but I ended up with you.”
He placed a hand gently over Luo’s eyes, leaned down, and kissed his lips, softly mint toothpaste and all. It didn’t bother him. He’d kissed Luo after morning coffee and after dinners drenched in garlic. This was his man. All his.
“Sleep,” he murmured once more, his voice quiet and steady. And, as always, Luo obeyed.
He closed his eyes and, in his dreams, Fei Du appeared holding a giant syringe, dressed in an absurdly sexy nurse costume. It wasn’t exactly a nightmare… but it wasn’t a pleasant dream either. He sincerely hoped he’d never become the victim of Fei Du’s this type of injections.
Chapter Text
Luo Wenzhou woke slowly. First, his eyes shifted beneath closed lids; then his hand twitched, reaching for something or someone that wasn’t beside him. He surfaced from a dream in which Fei Du had been threatening to inject him with something for “a dry throat and general irritability.”
He blinked a few times until his vision sharpened.
The first thing he saw was Fei Du sitting on the bed beside him. He stared, blinked again, and stared once more.
Fei Du met his gaze with a perfect smile, pressing a cool hand to Luo Wenzhou’s forehead.
“Mmh, your temperature’s back to normal,” he said, satisfied, then stood up from the mattress.
And... 'oh, heavens.'
Only then did Luo Wenzhou get the full view of what had been hidden from sight. Fei Du was in a full nurse's outfit.
The short white dress hugged his lean but strong body, emphasizing the breadth of his shoulders and the narrow line of his waist. The hem ended a few inches above his knees, where immaculate white stockings took over, glowing against his pale skin. His feet were encased in shiny red heels, and a tiny white cap with a red cross perched neatly on his head.
Luo Wenzhou froze mid-breath, mouth slightly open.
“No…” he rasped, his throat dry as a desert. “You didn’t…” He groaned, covering his eyes with one hand. “Fei Duuuu…”
“How are we feeling today, Captain Luo?” Fei Du asked, batting his eyelashes. The only response was another pitiful groan, which drew genuine laughter from him.
“Oh? Is Captain Luo afraid of me because I look like a medical professional?” he continued dramatically. “Should I help you get used to the view… by getting very, very close?”
He crawled onto the bed, moving with feline grace, distributing his weight between his hands and knees as he slowly prowled toward the center of the mattress toward Luo Wenzhou, who lay perfectly still, pretending that if he didn’t look at Fei Du, the vision would disappear, just like the nightmare version of Fei Du chasing him with a syringe.
“This is a crime,” Luo Wenzhou finally managed. “An attempted murder. I knew you’re trying to give me a heart attack so you can steal all my savings!”
Fei Du collapsed onto the mattress, laughing.
“Are you sure you even have anything worth stealing?” he teased.
“My my Luo Yiguo! You’d steal the cat! If we ever broke up, you wouldn’t get custody, so to keep him, you’d have to kill me!”
“Mhm. True. The cat is definitely worth a homicide,” Fei Du agreed, still smiling as he rose smoothly from the bed. “But while you’re still alive, tell me how you feel?”
Luo Wenzhou sighed, realizing that teasing Fei Du had only delayed the inevitable.
“I’m thirsty. My stomach still hurts, mostly the upper part.” He finally lowered his hand and looked at Fei Du again, his cheeks flushing crimson. His lover looked unfairly good in everything, but the nurse uniform had something dangerously alluring about it, something both subtle and sinful. If only his stomach weren’t still threatening mutiny, he might have enjoyed the sight a lot more.
“Mmh.” Fei Du picked up the digital thermometer and held it to Luo Wenzhou’s forehead before giving a discreet smile. “Oh, temperature’s high…” He caught Luo’s wrist, checking his pulse. “And pulse elevated… I’m afraid you’re suffering from an acute allergic reaction to beauty. Severe lack of immunity to Nurse Fei’s charm. We need to start treatment immediately.”
Luo Wenzhou groaned theatrically and pulled the blanket over his reddened face.
“If this is a dream, I don’t want to wake up. But if it’s real, may the ground swallow me whole.”
“You can’t die yet, Patient Luo,” Fei Du said, settling on the edge of the bed with a smirk. “I’m about to give you your medicine.”
“You’re not touching me with a needle,” came the muffled protest from under the blanket.
“I wasn’t planning to,” Fei Du replied, his tone far too innocent. “There’s always suppositories… or an enema ”
Before he could elaborate, Luo Wenzhou threw the blanket aside, horrified.
“What?!” he croaked.
Fei Du bent down and kissed him lightly on the lips, warm, soft, teasing.
“I could also try a modern method of treatment. Want to give it a try?” he murmured, brushing a strand of hair off Luo Wenzhou’s forehead.
“Does it taste better than regular medicine and not involve anything entering my ass?” Luo Wenzhou asked, dead serious in his desperation to confirm the safety of his backside.
Fei Du laughed outright. “Mmh, yes. But you have to be a good patient.”
“Fine,” Luo Wenzhou muttered, surrendering.
“Good. Then let’s start with your stomach.” Fei Du gestured for him to lie back down.
When he became serious, even dressed like that, Fei Du looked lethal and trustworthy all at once, the kind of man Luo Wenzhou would entrust his life to without hesitation. He examined Luo’s abdomen carefully, finding nothing alarming.
“You need fluids. Either you drink plenty, or I’ll hook up another IV. What do you think? Think you can manage a drink if I ask nicely?” Fei Du’s eyes gleamed with mischief.
“Okay, I’ll drink. Just… help me up,” Luo agreed.
Fei Du supported him gently all the way to the living room, where he settled him comfortably on the couch, wrapped him in a blanket, and somehow summoned Luo Yiguo, who promptly curled up in his lap and fell asleep a purring, warm ball of fur, almost like a living hot-water bottle.
“Don’t uncover yourself unless you start feeling overheated. You’ve got almost no carbohydrates or electrolytes left, so your body could lose warmth fast,” Fei Du instructed, tucking the blanket more securely around him. “Give me a moment, I’ll warm up an isotonic drink for you. And after that…” he paused, thinking, “how about some porridge?”
Luo Wenzhou nodded. He was ready to agree to anything that came from Fei Du’s lips while he wore that outfit. Ah, if only his body cooperated with his imagination, he was wasting a perfectly good opportunity for unforgettable sex. He could only hope to recover quickly, maybe even soon enough to put that costume to proper use somewhere far more fitting, like their bed. Then maybe he’d even agree to a shot in the ass.
+++
Hours later, fed, warm, and content, Luo Wenzhou lay back in bed, drifting toward another nap. Fei Du smoothed the blanket over him, straightening the creases with patient care.
Half-asleep, Luo Wenzhou wore a faint smile, his hands finally still. Once he drifted off completely, Fei Du sat beside him again, checking his temperature and blood pressure one last time. Despite Luo’s earlier protests, Fei Du had reattached the IV line and set a slow drip, keeping his lover hydrated through the night.
Gone was the playful nurse; what remained was quiet devotion. Fei Du lay down beside him, set a silent alarm to go off every hour, and planned to monitor him throughout the night.
He took off the costume and hung it neatly in the closet for another occasion.
A small smile curved his lips.
“My naughty patient,” he whispered, pressing a kiss to Luo Wenzhou’s forehead. “Maybe buying that costume was worth it after all.”