After taking his temperature, it was almost 39°C.

The doctor suggested giving him an IV drip, but he still insisted, “Me…medicine… will…will work.”

Surprisingly, the doctor didn’t push for the IV drip, only mentioning that it would make him recover faster, but medicine was an option too.

I immediately shut down Big Stutterer’s idea of “medicine will work.”

His fever was already so high, and if the medicine didn’t help, it could get worse at night. It wouldn’t be easy to find a doctor then.

Ignoring Big Stutterer’s pitiful look, I decisively had him get the IV drip at the hospital.

A quick flashback—my last IV treatment was in elementary school. I marveled at how I could sit in a hospital for hours back then without getting restless.

Big Stutterer was quickly set up by the nurse. The bed had one of those big floral quilts common in rural areas, which looked a bit funny against Big Stutterer, who still managed to maintain some fashionable style even while sick.

I went out to grab a simple dinner and brought back two boxes of takeout from a popular Sha County snack chain.

When I was sick as a kid, the only thing I wanted to eat was wontons, and usually, that was all I could eat.

I opened the takeout box and placed it in front of him. He refused to eat, insisting that I feed him.

I glanced around, indicating we were in public.

There were people around, and it didn’t seem appropriate.

But he still wouldn’t eat. I had no choice, and seeing that he had an IV needle in his hand, I reluctantly began feeding him.

After the first bite, I looked around again and realized no one was paying attention to us, so I relaxed a bit.

The wontons from this chain were from a well-known national franchise, with thin skins and delicious filling.

Big Stutterer complimented them as well, though he only ate two bites of the noodles, leaving the rest for me to finish.

After cleaning up, I sat in the chair next to Big Stutterer. He scooted over on the bed, leaving a space, and lifted the blanket, signaling for me to lie down next to him.

At first, I was worried about what people might think, but it was getting cold sitting outside. Eventually, I climbed into the bed with him, and we watched Booney Bears on TV together.

Even when sick, Big Stutterer couldn’t stay still. He held my hand under the blanket and rested his leg on mine.

On a normal day, I would’ve teased him with some sweet words, but seeing him in such a weak state, I decided to let it go.

I accompanied him to the restroom several times. After one of the trips, the aunt in the next bed commented, “You two brothers have a great relationship.”

I didn’t say anything, just smiled.

Big Stutterer chuckled foolishly and said something that didn’t make much sense.

“We…we’re…not…brothers.”

I mentally finished the sentence for him.

The aunt didn’t respond, but the young girl sitting beside her smiled sweetly at us.

I think she understood.

That night, Big Stutterer had a good sleep, and by the next day, he looked much better, so I agreed to let him go to work.

But by the following night, he had a fever again.

It took four or five more days of back-and-forth treatment for him to fully recover.

And just when he got better, I fell sick.

It started with a headache at noon, and by later in the day, I had a fever.

We hadn’t been intimate for over a week. As I lay in bed that night, I thought about seducing Big Stutterer and testing the rumor that being sick made it feel even better—haha!

But Big Stutterer was having none of it: “N…no…wait…until…you…get…better…then…we…can do…it as…much as…you want.”

---

I have a female friend I’ve known for a long time, and for a while, everyone thought we were a couple.

Until I came out to a small group, and she got married and had a baby, that “assumption” was finally shattered.

She’s 25 now and has a three-year-old daughter.

One weekend, I got a call early in the morning and ended up bringing home a little girl with a tiny ponytail sticking straight up from the apartment downstairs.

Her name is Peach, and her mom’s name is Orange.

When Peach first saw me, she stared with big eyes and sweetly called me “Dudu.” But the moment she watched her mom’s car speed off like an arrow, leaving her behind without even a trace of exhaust fumes, she started wailing hysterically, screaming for her “Mommy.”

I silently cursed her mom, but outwardly, I smiled, picked her up, and tried to reassure her that her mommy would come back soon.

Unfortunately, kids aren’t that easy to comfort. She cried all the way from downstairs to my place. I was worried the neighbors would come out and throw something at me.

Once we got inside and I closed the door, I just let her cry.

Her sobs weren’t earth-shattering, but they did wake up Big Stutterer.

He came out with a bedhead, his face still half-asleep, and asked, “W…where…d…did…the…kid…come from?”

“It’s Orange’s daughter. You’ve held her before. Orange said her mom’s sick, and she had to rush back. Her husband’s on a business trip, so she dropped her off with us.”

Big Stutterer mumbled an “Oh,” then walked over to pick up Peach.

While he comforted her, I went to the kitchen to grab a loaf of bread and a teddy bear.

When I got back, Peach had already calmed down thanks to Big Stutterer. She still had tear tracks on her face but was playing with his bedhead.

I handed her the teddy bear, and she smiled and hugged it, saying, “Thank you, Uncle Dudu.”

This peaceful moment made both Big Stutterer and I think that the rest of the day would go smoothly with Peach.

After she settled down, we put her on our bed with some toys.

Then Big Stutterer and I went to wash up.

It was a harmonious process—Peach remained as quiet as a mouse and didn’t interrupt our little flirtations.

But when we came out of the bathroom, I saw something I’ll never forget.

Peach was playing with the lube and condoms we hadn’t put away from the night before!

A huge glob of lube was smeared all over the bed, covering a large area. Several condoms had been unwrapped too.

When I saw her, Peach was pulling on one of the unwrapped condoms, her hands completely covered in lube.