Ketterdam University

{fifteen}

            Wylan felt like his whole body was on fire. Not a burning sensation, no. But every nerve ending in his body was a writhing creature of pain, like those strange cheap fireworks at every Fourth of July festival that squeals and shrivel after they burst. The roaring of blood rushed in his ears at all times. He felt like a little kid at the dry cleaners, crouched in front of the washing machine, in awe of how so many things could tumble out of control, yet be compacted into such a small space.

            There was a new air around Jesper, which made Wylan even more nervous than what God had originally bestowed him with. Despite still being shag buddies with Kuwei, Jesper and his quips had been verging on the more flirty side of the spectrum on the scale of obnoxiousness. It was nice that he wasn't insulting all the time, but Wylan wondered if all the blood in his body was rushing to rest right under his cheeks and neck rather than powering his organs like his lungs or his friggin' heart. He felt as though he couldn't take a breath without Jesper being right there, paying attention to him and asking how he was feeling on that particular day. Jesper was always there. Around the house, around Wylan's head (for whatever reason). He was like...a machine, alive... Always cranking out words and movement and breath. It was like everyone else was a statue and Jesper was...

        Wylan wasn't sure. He didn't think about much when he was like this.

            On one fateful day that made everything far worse, Wylan was typing away on his laptop, trying to figure out the English alphabet for the fourteenth time in a single hour. His earbuds were in and classical music blasted in his ears. The cold was creeping through the house and into his room and the baby pink sweater he had on was not cutting it. Wylan tried to concentrate on reading one single sentence, but his eyes kept finding new threads in his comforter to pick at, and his hands were too pale and shakey to do anything. He could hear the shower turning off from across the hall and wondered if Jesper was in a good mood. A bone-rattling shiver ran down his spine. He decided he didn't care.

             "Jes?" he called hesitantly, then tried again. "Jesper!"

        He heard footsteps approaching and stopping in his doorframe. Foolishly keeping his head down, Wylan began, "Hey, would you mind - " but when he looked up, at last, all words fell to the ground and sunk through the floor.

        Jesper was standing in Wylan's doorway, with nothing but a loose towel hung low on his hips. He was dripping wet from the shower and Wylan could literally see the steam rising off of his ebony skin. His skin was pulled tightly over his taut muscles, goosebumps forming over the top, probably because it was pretty freaking cold.

        Or...at least it was until Wylan felt his mind empty completely and he could only focus on the way Jesper's abdominal muscles rippled as he chuckled, his shoulder muscles pulling and stretching even when he was still, and the etched lines on his hips that led down to...

        Wylan's mouth suddenly went dry as he realized he was staring for too long. He tried desperately tried to remember what he wanted. Wasn't he cold? Wylan certainly wasn't now, he could feel the heat creeping up his chest and neck, and it was soon too warm to manage.

        "Could you...." Wylan tried again, then shook his head and closed his eyes. Out of sight, out of mind. "It's freezing. Could you turn on the heat?"

        Jesper laughed out loud, and Wylan probably wouldn't be able to speak for the next week, his throat was so dry. "I think I just did."

        Wylan rolled his eyes and whined. "Pretty please? I'm a-shakin' like a leaf in a hurricane."

        Jesper hitched his towel up, which only made it slip further and Wylan was going to hell. "Of course, your majesty. How could I let my prince die of hypothermia? What kind of servant would I be?"