Jock Next Bed (BL)
Chapter 199: DON’T DIE!

Chapter 199: DON’T DIE!

Chris kept running the conversation with Cory over and over in his head, the image of Sky standing out in the hospital main lobby, so close and yet out of reach.

His heart clenched as he thought of how Sky must have felt. How alone he must have been to show up like that, only to be stopped at the door.

He came for me, Chris thought, clenching his fists. He came for me.

But did Sky know how much Chris had been struggling, too? Did he understand how much he meant to Chris, or was he just as lost, as confused, as terrified as Chris had been?

Chris took a shaky breath, his thoughts clouded with doubt. He couldn’t let this slip away.

"Where is he now?" Chris asked suddenly, his voice hoarse, as he turned to Cory, grabbing him by the arm. "He’s still here, right? He didn’t leave?"

Cory, taken aback by the sudden desperation in Chris’s voice, hesitated for a moment before answering. "I don’t know," he said softly. "But he seemed determined. I think he’s still out there. Somewhere."

Chris felt a rush of hope and dread in equal measure.

"Do you have Wilson’s number?" he asked, almost pleading. "I need to know what’s going on, if Sky’s still around, if he’s—"

Cory shook his head before Chris could finish. "No, I don’t have it. And you really need to stop worrying about that for a second. Wilson said to go freshen up. You can’t just run out there looking like you’re about to join a circus."

Chris shot him a glare, but Cory wasn’t wrong. He hadn’t even realized he was still wearing the hospital gown, and the pigtails he had hastily tied in his hair earlier were a disaster. He glanced at his reflection in the nearby mirror and cringed. The two scruffy, uneven pigtails stuck out like two lopsided pineapples, and his face, despite his attempts to wash it, looked pale and exhausted.

"I’m not exactly going for a beauty pageant," Chris muttered, tugging at his hair, but his frustration was clear. He didn’t have time for this.

Before he could protest any further, there was a knock at the door.

Knock knock.

Chris’s heart skipped a beat as the door opened without waiting for an answer. Wilson stood there, looking as unbothered as ever, arms crossed and a small smirk on his face.

"Hey," Wilson greeted, stepping inside. "You still look like shit."

Chris could barely process his words as Wilson continued, his tone shifting to something more serious. "But I’ve got news."

Chris’s anxiety spiked again, and his pulse quickened. "What happened? Is Sky still here? Where is he?" he demanded, his voice tight with urgency.

Wilson raised an eyebrow, giving him a look of mild amusement

When the door swung open wider, Chris’s heart skipped a beat. There, standing in the doorway, was Sky.

Chris blinked, his eyes wide with disbelief. His mind raced as he tried to process what he was seeing. Slowly, he muttered, "What. The. Actual. Fuck?"

One would think he had seen a ghost.

Sky, looking more exhausted than Chris had ever seen him, stepped into the room quietly. His clothes were wrinkled, and his usually sharp features were dulled by fatigue, but there was no mistaking him. It was Sky.

Sky raised an eyebrow, his voice calm, broken, but firm. "No swearing."

Chris’s mind was still racing, but somehow his legs moved of their own accord. He took slow steps toward Sky, his heart thudding in his chest. He reached out and poked Sky’s cheek gently, half-expecting to wake up from some bizarre dream. But Sky was solid, warm, and very real.

Sky looked at his hair in amusement, a faint smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "You look... pretty," he said, his voice light, despite the exhaustion that seemed to weigh him down.

Without thinking, Chris wrapped his arms around Sky, pulling him close. The tension he hadn’t even realized was building in his chest melted away, replaced by a feeling of warmth and relief that flooded him completely. He squeezed Sky tightly, as though trying to make sure this moment wasn’t just some fleeting dream.

Sky’s arms hesitantly wrapped around him, and for a moment, the world outside ceased to exist. No hospital. No rumors. No expectations. Just the quiet press of their bodies, the steady rhythm of their breathing, and the unspoken emotions hanging between them.

Chris felt something lodge in his throat—a realization so sudden, so terrifying, that his grip on Sky briefly tightened.

He had almost said it.

The three words that would have changed everything.

Across the room, Cory watched with a bewildered expression, like he had just walked into a foreign film without subtitles. He blinked, glancing between them, clearly struggling to understand how two guys could look at each other with such raw intensity.

Meanwhile, Chris barely had time to process the overwhelming relief of having Sky in his arms before he felt it—Sky’s body slackening against him.

His breath hitched. For a second, he thought maybe Sky was just relaxing, but then the weight in his arms grew heavier. Sky’s head tipped slightly, his grip loosening.

Chris’s heart stopped.

"Sky?" His voice was sharp, panicked.

Sky didn’t answer.

Chris pulled back just in time to see Sky’s eyelids flutter weakly before they shut completely.

Chris’s heart nearly exploded in his chest.

"Sky?! SKY?! DON’T DIE!" He shook him like a broken vending machine.

Wilson, completely unimpressed, rolled his eyes. "You absolute idiot."

Chris snapped his head up. "What? He just—he just collapsed! He—"

Wilson flicked Sky’s forehead, and deadpanned, "He’s sleeping."

Chris froze. "Huh?"

Cory, arms crossed, looked mildly disturbed. "That’s... actually impressive. He passed out mid-hug."

Chris stared at Sky’s peaceful, oblivious face. His mouth was slightly open, his breathing slow and steady.

"...Oh."

Wilson smacked the back of Chris’s head. "Dumbass."

Chris scowled but didn’t argue. Instead, he adjusted Sky more comfortably against him, grumbling under his breath.

"Could’ve given me a heart attack, you dramatic piece of shit."