Hours later, Cullen sat upon Felix's bed, holding the man's hand as he slept. The physician had come and gone, leaving Felix with a steady breath and lighter purse - and alive. Cullen had followed the physician's instructions to ease his friend's labored breathing, and now Felix sounded much more at ease. Every once in a while Cullen would glance down and gently feel the other man's forehead before idly running his fingers through the man's hair, relieved to find no fever such as the physician had warned against.

Cullen himself passed into the twilight beyond fatigue, his thoughts difficult to focus. When he was not worrying about Felix, his mind settled back on its other fixation. Every time Cullen closed his eyes, he swore he could feel Dorian: the breath hot on his neck, those lips caressing his own, or the tickle of that mustache moving so seductively over his skin. Each word, each inflection, was recalled and savored, as was the play of the candlelight over the man's muscles as they'd sparred and… after.

His head fell back against the wall, teeth clamping down on his lower lip as he recalled that last desperate kiss. Tired as he was, his free hand slipped down, under his codpiece, to stroke his now-firm flesh. As his fingers stroked slowly along his length, he loosed a small gasp, memories from the night prior welling in his mind. Closing his eyes, he let his pace remain slow as he simply enjoyed the sensations. He didn't want release, just to heighten the memories.

"Matters have improved between you both, then?" a sleepy voice asked.

"God-!" Cullen sputtered, pulling his hand out quickly as he sat up. "Felix!" Crawling down the bed so he could face his friend directly, he squeezed the man's hand. "How fare you?"

"Not going to sprint through London anytime soon, I'm afraid," Felix admitted with a sheepish smile. "But the fire is gone from my lungs. I am in your debt once more."

"I made a promise," he said as he clapped his other hand on top of Felix' hand. "Christmas. My family. My sister, Mia." He smiled. "Remember her?"

Felix's cheeks brightened. "Aye, fondly, as well you know. And that… that is a reason to keep going, `tis true. She is a most gentle lady." He sighed and closed his eyes. "I pray your pardon for mine actions," he offered.

Cullen cleared his throat and raised a hand to rub the back of his neck. "I… won't deny that it was… remarkably poor timing on your part," he admitted with a chuckle. "But one could well argue that had your arrival been delayed but for a while, it would have been very much worse."

That brought a weak chuckle from Felix. "So `twas unfortunate but no true disaster."

"Aye," Cullen laughed softly, but the laugh died quickly. "He requested that I return anon. You need not fret." He then hesitated, wondering how to approach the next subject.

Felix sighed softly. "You want to know of the dire nature of which we made mention," he observed.

Cullen nodded, then realized Felix still had his eyes closed. "Aye. If you two be such close friends, wherefore is it dangerous to be near him? Need I remain close by?"

"The risk is not to me," Felix said. "I beseech you, give it no mind, Cullen."

Lips pressing together, Cullen finally nodded. "As you will." And if the risk is not to you, then it must be to Dorian. The thought made his stomach clench - he knew all too well about the past catching up with the present, after all. "You should rest, then. He'll want to know how improved your state is on the morrow."

Felix relaxed, though the tension had been subtle. "You are a true friend, Cullen." He squeezed Cullen's hand. "Dawn approaches."

Cullen looked with surprise to the window, eyes catching a glimpse of sunlight rising. "So it does, and most aptly explains my exhaustion."

Waving vaguely at the rest of his bed, Felix said, "Sleep hither. 'Twould not be the first time, though you are not heavy with drink for this round," he said with a strained chuckle.

"Aye." With a sigh, Cullen crawled to the other side of the bed and collapsed on top of it. "And remind me not of my foolish youth."

"`Twas only a few months past!" Felix teased with a grin in his voice.

"Ah, foolish and wild-spent youth! Alas at my foolishness," Cullen lamented, grateful for the laugh they both shared. "Yet the boon of sleep does pull me." He reached over and patted Felix's arm. "Sleep well."

"You as well." Cullen heard Felix sniff before he added, "And should you desire to blacken mine eye once more, kindly choose my left this time."

Cullen kept his wince in reaction to the words hidden, simply allowing himself a chuckle. "In all truth, no nightmares have plagued me of late."

"Oh, hoh! Is that because a particular thespian has replaced them?" Felix said, nudging Cullen.

"Silence, you scurvy knave," Cullen said severely, and completely unable to suppress his grin. "I am lost in slumber."

"An it please you, my Lord," Felix said with mock solemnity. Silence did fall afterwards, leaving Cullen to contemplate the pull of sleep and what might await him in his dreams.

Pray it is the Italian.