Cat Scratch Fever

Garin could feel it building from the moment he woke up.

Simon had asked him once what it felt like. Garin's usual eloquence had dried at the source, and he'd stuttered out a disjointed, lame handful of words, finishing up with, "Like your blood is fizzing. Like something's coming, and you can't stop it, and you don't want to stop it, but you don't want it to happen either, because when you do..."

"Yes?" Simon prompted, his eyebrows knitted in a frown as he tried to make sense of what Garin couldn't make clear.

"All hell breaks loose."

"Sounds like sex," Simon commented lightly, his hand moving in a soothing pattern over Garin's back. "Speaking of which --"

"I can't. It's not safe when I'm like this. You could get hurt."

Simon's gaze dropped to the white slash of a scar across his forearm. "Yeah. Been there, done that."

"I'm sorry," Garin whispered wretchedly.

"Hey!" Simon pulled him close. "Not your fault. Never your fault. And you're worth it, okay? So no sex, but we can still --" His hand came up to cup Garin's face, bringing their lips together in a kiss.

He'd had to shake his head and leave the bed, because Simon couldn't be that close and Garin not want him.

No matter what the consequences.