feel jealousy

FELIX'S POV

Fuck fuck fuck fuck.

I ordered another cold beer, turning away from him. I had to just forget he was there.

"Hey, got your eyes on a beautiful girl?" Kent asked. "Yeah", I lied to him. Since he was my good friend, he once knew I was gay and it was him who helped me change that and now I didn’t want him to realise I was starting to feel attracted again to a male. So I had to be careful.

We was having the time of his life. The exhibition had been a success. Now he was letting go of all that anxiousness he had throughout the day, having fun with his mates.

"Is she hotter than mine?",

"Sort of." I said, keeping my reply short but I could feel my jaw clenching as images of Blair dancing with a sweaty pig crept in my mind.

Don't look Felix, just forget about him. He can do what he wants. He is even straight.

"Professor Reynolds!" Oh please for Christ's sake, not again. "I need help!"

The voice wasn't Blair's. It was from his friend. Maddox I believed was his name. I couldn't be sure.

When I turned around to face him, it was obvious he was panicking.

Oh no.

"What happened?" I asked. I immediately felt protective over my student. I was compelled to help him, no matter what it was.

"It's Blair. I don't know what to do. He is passing out then waking up, passing out again. Oh god, I should have kept an eye on him! This is my fault!"

I sprung up from my bar stool. I didn't even bother telling Kent what was going on.

My student led me through the crowd until we reached Blair. He was sat on a couch, his limbs limp. His eyes were slightly open, as if he was going to lose consciousness yet again.

"We have to get him out of here." I said to Maddox.

"Blair, can you walk?"

That was when he turned his head to the side and vomited on the floor. His friend let out a concerned cry.

He was probably incredibly drunk himself.

"I don't have a car!" Said Maddox. "I don't want to put him in a taxi alone either." He said, smoothing Blair's hair.

"Don't worry about that, I'll take him home. Help me get him up."

With that, with both of us on each side, we hauled him up, dragging him out of the bar.

"No, I'm fine." Blair said at last. At least he was speaking.

I was thankful I had driven my car close to Alegro Alley. We just had to walk a few feet.

"Thank you so much Dr Reynolds. I wouldn't know what to do if it wasn't for you!" Maddox said with tears in his eyes. He was so drunk.

"I'm calling a taxi for you. You're going home as well." I said sternly. These wild boys were a handful.

"Do you know where he lives?" He asked. Blair, who I had strapped into the passenger seat, sprung his head out the window.

"No! No!" He said, his eyes completely closed. Even in that state he wanted to hide the fact that I knew where he lived.

I found that incredibly amusing.

I went along with his idea. Maddox then gave me his address. When his taxi arrived, I gave Maddox my number so he could text me when he got home.

I already deserved to be teacher of the year and it was still September.

When I got in my car, I lifted Blair's head which was hanging limp from his shoulders.

"Oh Blair, how much did you fucking drink?" I asked, putting my car in reverse and getting out of my parking spot.

He grumbled and said something I didn't understand.

"Just don't vomit in my car, please." I pleaded. I don't think he even heard me.

I drove as fast as I could to his apartment. Once I was there, I walked to the front door and rang the bell.

No answer.

I rang again. Still no answer.

I rang a few more times, but after a few minutes of standing there in the cold, it was obvious no one was home.

"Fuck!" I cursed under my breath.

I got back into my car, frustrated.

"Your flat mates aren't home. You're coming with me, okay?" Not that he had a choice. It wasn't as if I was going to leave him there on the sidewalk.

"No, you're my teacher." He said, pain laced in his voice.

"It's exactly because I'm your teacher that I'm taking care of you." I answered.

He groaned again, getting restless in his seat. "But you're bad for me."

I knew what he meant. Even in his drunken state, he knew how bad it was for us to be together.

I didn't answer him, just drove until I reached my house.

Once in the garage, I walked to the other side of the car, opening the door for him. I unbuckled his seat belt and snaked one arm under his legs and the other across his back. I lifted his body as if it were dead weight and carried him.

Once inside, I took him to my bedroom and placed him over the bed sheets. He didn't stay where I put him, of course, and got up. I noticed he started reaching for the back of his shirt, to unbutton it.

"Absolutely not." I said, grabbing his hand and getting it away from the buttons. "You're not getting undressed.

You'll thank me in the morning."

I knew that if he changed clothes he'd wake up completely disorientated. Had happened to me a few times before. It was a horrible feeling, wondering what had happened to you.

I reached for a blanket and covered him, taking off his shoes as well.

"Now rest. I'll see you in the morning." I said. Before I could move away, he reached for my hand.

"You're not mean. You're sweet. And strong. And hot."

He blurted out. He then kissed the back of my hand, leaving a red stain from his lipstick.

My chest compressed tightly and my stomach flipped. I couldn't actually believe he said that. I couldn't believe I liked it.

He looked so small, all curled up in a ball in my bed.

Would it be that bad if I stayed with him, if I held him for the rest of the night?

It would be insanity. It would be catastrophic Felix. Get the fuck out of your room, now. Get the hell away from him.

Before I left, I remember he'd probably want to change clothes in the morning and take a shower. I left some clothes (the smallest ones I had) and a towel by the foot of the bed. I also searched for a toothbrush. I always brought those from hotels when I came back from holidays.

"Good night Mr De Montmorency." I said, more to myself than to him. I closed the door of the bedroom behind me.

I walked to the kitchen isle and slumped on a stool.

Blair De Montmorency was sleeping in my room, passed out drunk.

I was so fucked.