"Alexander, Alexander, Alexander. . ." growled Cassander against Hephaestion's ear, his breath moving the soft brown hair that covered it. "Do you think more of him than of me? Like everyone else, Hephaestion, do you?"

"No," murmured Hephaestion. The word was wrung out of him as though it took great effort.

Finally Cassander felt the broiling body of Hephaestion slacken completely and Cassander lifted his face up. Hair was sticking to his clammy neck and his cheeks were flushed red. Suddenly the reality of what had just transpired rushed to him.

Things did not go as he had intended. He was supposed to come to Hephaestion, a purely platonic visit to his sick colleague, and bring up the idea of distancing from each other, just as Alexander had asked of him. Cassander had had more than his fair share of experience in the department of breakups, whether it be platonic or non-platonic relationships, so he hadn't expected himself to abandon his initial plans so readily at the mere sight of the beautiful smile that touched Hephaestion's lips, at the knowledge that the man was smiling because of him. Things just started to spiral out of control at that point, when he felt the overwhelming need to touch Hephaestion, if only to leave his mark on him before he became Alexander's.

Cassander scooped Hephaestion's spiritless legs into his arms and carried him, gently lowering him onto the bed. His breath was shaky against Hephaestion's cheeks as he kissed his eyelids, willing the fever away. Passing a tremulous hand over Hephaestion's forehead, he cursed softly. The man was heating up at an alarming rate, and he had an idea whose fault it was.

"Cassander," came a voice from the doorway. He knew it was Alexander but the man had never used that tone of voice on him, and it felt completely foreign. The blonde placed a plastic bag on the tea table. "What're you doing here?"

Cassander didn't acknowledge him, concentrating instead on rubbing circles on the outside of Hephaestion's palm, until a firm hand gripped his shoulder. It was then that Cassander made a belated decision - he wouldn't cower and slink away, offer Alexander whatever he wanted, without putting up a fight first. Hephaestion was different, probably - definitely - one in a million, and Cassander knew he'd never come across a man like him again. To say that such bouts of capriciousness and sentimentality was uncharacteristic of the man would have been a gross understatement, but in that moment risking the loss of his career didn't sound as bad an idea as giving Hephaestion up to Alexander.

"Get your neanderthal hand off me," said Cassander with carefully disguised consternation, rising so that their eyes were level.

"What's your problem?" Alexander moved to check on the sleeping man, only to be taken aside by the arm.

"I will continue to pursue Hephaestion," stated Cassander.

"What are you saying?" the words were spoken slow and threatening, the way Alexander would speak to an incompetent employee. "We've discussed this, come to a conclusion. And you're going to make good your word this time."

"There could be a future for us," said Cassander, glancing at Hephaestion, as if it substantiated his certainty of the man's character. "If we come clean with him now, he might still want me."

Alexander ignored the stinging in his chest at the thought that Cassander could be right. He laughed humorlessly. "So faithful, Cassander? You don't sound like yourself at all."

It was true, and Cassander knew it, but it felt right to say out loud what his heart thought - he'd been denying it for far too long. "Well maybe I've never been myself. Alex if you want him, you're going to have to try harder, because I won't give him up to you."

"Don't talk about him like a possession, Cassander. Whoever he chooses would be his own decision alone," said Alexander, before a groan carried from Hephaestion's bed. "It would help if you waited till he's well again before doing anything drastic."

The blonde was by Hephaestion's side when he looked to Cassander, who was still standing at the other end of the room, watching the sleeping man. There was something in his eyes, Alexander had seen it there before, but he couldn't quite put his finger on it. He just knew it wasn't love - it was too soon for love. "You should go. Before Hephaestion wakes up."

Cassander seemed to teeter on the edge of speech, but then he remembered what he'd done to Hephaestion. Imagining that the man wouldn't want to see him when he woke, Cassander clenched his jaw and stepped out of the room, closing the door behind him.


Hephaestion gasped, blue eyes flying open. He sat up and looked about the room. It was late evening. "Alex?"

"Relax," said Alexander in a soothing voice, coming to his side.

Hephaestion furrowed his brows, reaching a hand up to touch Alexander's face. The blonde winced slightly from the twinge of pain that burgeoned from his touch. He'd completely forgotten about the punch he took to the jaw the previous night as it hadn't been hurting. He guessed that a bruise had formed now.

"What happened?" asked Hephaestion, sitting up. "Did Cassander. . . ?"

Alexander frowned. "Did Cassander what?"

"I don't know, did he do that to you?" asked Hephaestion uncertainly.

"No, he didn't," replied Alexander, his frown deepening. "What makes you think he did?"

Hephaestion didn't reply, instead he glanced over Alexander's shoulder. "I smell mushroom soup."

"Was he aggressive with you, Hephaestion?" Alexander looked furious. "Did he lay his hands on you? Is that why you think he might've hit me?"

"No," denied Hephaestion, backing away from the blonde, who was unconsciously advancing on him. "He wasn't acting like himself, that's all."

"What did he do?" asked Alexander, knowing Hephaestion to be making light of the issue.

"Nothing," said Hephaestion, frustrated by Alexander's overbearing concern. "I'm fine, aren't I?"

Alexander hated that Hephaestion was defending Cassander, it made him feel like an outsider who didn't understand the mechanics of their relationship. "Why didn't you call me? I could've come right up -"

"Stop, Alexander. You're making yourself sound like a hypocrite."

"A hypocrite?"

Hephaestion exhaled deeply, smoothing the bedsheets over his thighs. "I'm sorry. Shouldn't be bringing that up."

"No - Hephaestion," Alexander placed a hand on Hephaestion's knee, making him look up. "I want to know what you think of me, honestly."

A long silence dragged out between them, and then Hephaestion finally spoke. "I really want to believe in you."

"But?" prompted Alexander.

"But I've spent the past ten years thinking you were the reason those things happened to me. It's not easy to just up and change my mind about you now."

Alexander swallowed audibly, nodding. "Is there anything I can do to make it easier?"

"No," Hephaestion smiled, but it was not with malice as he placed his hand over Alexander's and gripped it briefly. "You're trying hard enough as it is."

"I am?"

"Yeah." Hephaestion looked thoughtful. "But why is it so important that you change my opinion of you? How would you benefit from my liking you in any way?"

"Benefit?" said Alexander softly. "What have benefits got anything to do with this? I just want your friendship, Hephaestion, it's as simple as that."

"But why make things so difficult for yourself?" Hephaestion laughed. "You could have the friendship of anyone else, save yourself the trouble of getting me to like you."

"You're different from other people."

"How so?"

Alexander looked away, scratching the back of his neck. "It's hard to explain."

"You're so confusing, Alex," mused Hephaestion. "And I'm hungry. . . haven't eaten anything all day. Can I have the soup now? It's for me, right?"

"You haven't even had breakfast?" Alexander frowned - he'd been doing an atypically lot of frowning lately - reaching for the bowl of soup in the plastic bag that was meant to be Hephaestion's lunch. "Didn't you order in?"

Hephaestion shook his head, grabbing for the spoon before Alexander could offer to feed him.

For several long moments Alexander sat next to him, watching his sculpted jaw clench and unclench around the occasional slice of mushroom, until Hephaestion peered up at him from under his thick lashes, and Alexander stood, realising that he was being weird.

When the soup was finished Hephaestion looked to Alexander, who was now sitting in bed, reading from a book. "So what happened to your face?"

The blonde glanced at him, amusement dancing in his brown eyes. "Care to take a guess?"

Blue eyes narrowed in contemplation. "You cheated at the casino and security roughed you up."

Alexander sat up, putting his book down with a frown. "Do I look that bad?"

Hephaestion laughed. "Not really. Did you get in a fight with someone?"

"No, not exactly."

"Just tell me what happened already."

Alexander laughed and crawled to the edge of his own bed, bringing his face as close to Hephaestion's as he could as though trying to build up suspense. "You hit me in your sleep last night."

". . . Why? How?"

"You were having some sort of a nightmare," said Alexander, settling back in bed, slightly disappointed by the lack of reaction. He had half-expected the man to apologise frantically, much like anyone else would've done at the knowledge that they had dared to touch Alexander, much less bruise him. But then again, wasn't Hephaestion's unpredictability part of his charm? "Do you have them very often?"

Hephaestion nodded, but didn't elaborate on it. "Was I saying anything?"

"No, but you seemed like you were going through hell."

Hephaestion nodded again, lying down and pulling the sheets over his shoulders, facing away from Alexander.

"What's wrong?" Alexander got up from his bed and sat next to Hephaestion. He thought he imagined the brunette flinching away from him. "Is the fever getting worse? Turn around and let me take your temperature."

Hephaestion turned to lie on his back, and his hair spilled across the pillow. Blue eyes stared up at Alexander as he took his temperature. It was 37.9 degree Celsius - still a fever but not a high one. Alexander hated himself for feeling disappointment in the knowledge that Hephaestion would soon be up and about with the others, and going back to his routine of pointedly ignoring his existence.