Alpha's Bid

Part 17

KINN

Two weeks ago, he made the decision to stop taking medication because Porsche was already off the suppressants, and little did he know that this would result in him becoming so insufferable. He had been on suppressants for a couple of years, so he assumed it wouldn't be a walk in the park to handle the aftereffects. Porsche urged him to visit his physician to make the passage easier. At first, he refused, until one evening, when they were finishing dinner, he snapped at his lover for no particular reason.

"You could have made this better..." he replied, taking another piece of meat from the plate.

"Well, sorry, your highness, if this is not to your liking. Next time, cook for yourself." His outburst did not impress Porsche, and he didn't let it slide. "Look, I know you are struggling to deal with this by yourself, but it's only going to get worse. You saw what happened to me when I stopped. You need to go to work and deal with students. What if it happens in class? This is going to take at least a week or two for you to feel better. I want to be here for you, but I cannot tolerate you pushing my buttons for no reason. I'm going to take my room back until your mood improves."

"Well, that's not fair. I put up with you when you were acting up." Kinn snapped back, annoyed. He saw the twitch in Porsche's eyes.

"I might have thrown some tantrums over some things, but have I ever snapped at you or insulted you in any way?" Porsche sat up and placed his plate in the dishwasher.

"What did I say?" Kinn's surprised expression looked like that of a child, unknowing and curious about the words that had just escaped his mouth.

"You insulted the food I made for us and criticized me for how I made it, saying that I am not good enough to cook a meal. I know you work hard, and I do too, and I wanted you to enjoy a home-cooked meal at least in the evening when I come home from work."

"I think it would be better for you to sleep in your room. I might end up saying something I'll regret again. Thanks for the meal." He got up from the table, but his heart was racing. He was angry, but it wasn't Porsche's fault. The alpha went back to the study to finish his work, leaving Porsche alone in the kitchen. Eventually, he fell asleep on the leather couch, pondering what an ass he had been to someone who meant so much to him. Porsche worked a full-time job at the coffee shop but still found time to cook, chat with him, and take care of him. He made a mental note to apologize and do something special for Porsche, a date night.

In the morning, he made a feeble attempt to get up, but he felt his body heavy and his head was pounding relentlessly. He put his feet on the creaking wooden floor, but immediately, as he sat upright, the room began to whirl wildly. He wanted to get to work, but how could he manage it in this condition? Porsche was angry with him and perhaps already at work, making him feel as though he had been punished for his actions towards his mate. He needed to get his phone, maybe call Jace, but he could barely see a few feet in front of him.

"No, no, don't get up." He heard a comfortable voice urging him to stop. "Do you feel sick?" The voice soothed him, and he calmed down.

The alpha just nodded, and his stomach was acting up. "I think I'm going to throw up...." He bent over and emptied everything inside. God knows where. "I have to..."

"I will call the dean and tell him you are feeling sick. There's no way you can get to work in this state," Porsche said. "Can you walk with my help? Let's get to the living room; I made the bed there." With the other's support, he felt himself moving from the couch and being guided to the living room. He felt sticky all over and incredibly thirsty.

"I'm going to change your clothes, okay? You have a fever, and your clothes are soaked." He felt his pants gently removed from his legs, and another pair replaced them. Porsche took his wet shirt off, causing him to shiver. He felt like being pushed gently onto the bed and covered with a blanket. His lover brought a glass of water to his lips, and he drank it with his help. "I called my doctor; she prescribed something for you to take. What kind of shit have you taken for your ruts that have these withdrawal symptoms?"