Jason was pinned to the metal table, the other person's hands reaching into his T-shirt to gently caress his body. His fingertips played with his nipples, rubbing, and pulling the two exceedingly small protuberances, making them swollen and flushed. "You're using public service for personal gain, Doctor," Jason protested in a breathy whisper.

"You're right." Douglas smiled. "Even if it goes against professional ethics, I still want you."

"At least not on the operating table, it makes me feel awfully weird."

"On the floor then?"

"...Don't you have a better offer?"

"I do, but I can't wait any longer," Douglas murmured, his fingers stroking the other's soft lips before invading his mouth. He deftly wrapped his tongue around his, twisting it around to find sensitive spots and explore deeper into the interior. Jason frowned. This feeling was extremely uncomfortable. His lips were open under the pressure, and breathless single sounds were squeezed out from the depths of his throat; unswallowable saliva flowed down the other's fingers, leaving extravagant marks across his skin.

Douglas's gasping became heavier, and his tone lost its usual calmness. "You fascinate me, dear..." he murmured while unbuttoning the other's pants and licking the liquid on his neck. "You are like fresh blood that fills me up in vitality. For a while I even felt like an empty shell of normal functioning on the outside and nothing but a stiff corpse on the inside, until I met you. Although I still haven't figured out how you are able to do that... There is something always burning deep in your soul, and no amount of darkness can extinguish it; no matter what kind of wounds and holes, it can always fill them... I wonder how is that?"

I can't give you an answer, doctor, because I have no idea what you're talking about; perhaps you can go talk to your colleagues in the Psychology Department. Jason wanted to answer that, but his tongue was being played with by the other man's fingers, and all he could do was make resentful, discontent whimper. 

"But that's okay," Douglas said softly, his voice becoming a bit hoarse from the torment of lust, "I'm willing to take the time to study this issue, to explore every part of your body, to know all your composition like the back of my hand. I'm patient and persistent enough to do so until I find the answer..."

He withdrew from the other's mouth, and directly touched the back hole with his dripping wet fingers. Using the lubrication of saliva, he thrusting in, dilating the entrance, groping about the folds in the inner walls.

Jason felt some pain, and the newly healed wound couldn't withstand such a dry and rough invasion. He wringed his body in discomfort and muttered, "At least there was Vaseline last time..."

The doctor laughed. "You don't need that right now." His fingers expertly pressed the man's source of pleasure inside his body, enjoying the other man's body tightening instantly like an electric shock. "Beautiful chestnut shape. Your prostate is very healthy."

Jason gave vent to a torrent of abuse, but the wave of pleasure that hit him drowned out his reasoning, and all sounds rushed out of his mouth into muffled gasps and moans. His body was whipped by alternating pain and pleasure. He twisted his waist unbearably and uncontrollably, sending out simultaneous messages of rejection and invitation.

Douglas suddenly jerked his fingers out, grabbed his crotch tightly and lifted it, ramming his manhood into the warm tightness. The strong stimulation made Jason Jason's whole body shudder, and his fingertips sank into the other man's forearm, slashing several bloody scars.

"Sorry, didn't mean to be so rough," Douglas gasped over him, "but you always make me lose my grip..."

Jason arched his upper body to bear the thrusts and slams from the other's fiery body. He quickly adapted to the other person's rhythm and unconsciously followed up.

This is nuts, having sex with a doctor on an operating table. He couldn't help but let out a low chuckle that sounded like a series of moans indulged in desire.

Douglas suddenly increased the speed of his thrusts, and both of them felt the cascading waves of pleasure piled up were about to reach their peak. There seemed to be a hissing sound in his eardrums, yet he too busy to distinguish it. After a violent tremor of his body, he shot a searing stream of semen into the other man.

"...Did you hear that?" His breathing remained rapid, but his body gradually calmed down.

"What?" the man in his arms asked.

"The sound of a bird flapping its wings—" Douglas smiled up in contented delight. "I've finally caught it."

When Jason walked out of the hospital doors, he saw his roommate leaning against the car door in an extremely impatient posture, pressing the PDA. He walked over and leaned onto his shoulder, calling out in a cheesy, flattering voice, "Adri, dear."

"Geez, you're finally out! It wouldn't have taken him this long even if he'd dissected you whole," Adrian grumbled. "If it weren't for you deliberately cutting off the phone, I would've rushed in to pack your leftovers long ago."

"It wasn't that serious, Adri, the doctor just wanted to have a good chat with me." Jason pulled the door open and got in, lazily slumping in the passenger seat. "Will you drive, I'm exhausted."

Adrian urged him to buckle up and started the car. "I guess you used your body 'to have a good chat' with him. Your whole body reeks like an animal in heat."

Jason smiled up. "You jealous, dear?"

Adrian gave him a look of thwarted frustration and shook his head helplessly. "My bad, I shouldn't have overestimated your thinking ability."

"Your deliberate attacks can't ruin my good mood, Adri. I just squared away a nuisance."

"...Dr. Neff confessed to you?"

"Pretty much, but with a slightly more intense approach — he almost used illegal drugs on me in order to force me to stay in a long-term relationship with him, but I'm not that easy to defeat." The blond man showed a sly and complacent look. "Anyway, at the end I made him realize that we weren't right for each other. Besides, it's my principle not to date cops or doctors."

"Did he give up?"

"God knows. But at least he should think twice before taking irrational actions from now on."

"Jason," Adrian turned to him seriously, "you should take some responsibility for this. Don't go out of line."

"I know." Jason raised his hands in surrender. "It's not like I did anything to him. I don't really hate him to be honest. He may not be considered a good person, but he's a good doctor — Adri, let's get home soon, okay? You don't know how much I miss the beer in the fridge and the long-lost video games, and I even miss those tentacle-like creepers of yours, as long as they don't block the window while I'm not around..."

"If you tear them off again, I'm going to kick your ass back to the hospital! I'm not kidding, Jason."

"All right, all right. I'm the one who's kidding."

The next day, Jason rarely arrived early at the courier company. After receiving a full circle of welcome hugs, he braced himself to stood in front of his boss.

"I heard you was in a car crash and stayed in the hospital for three weeks?" Erika glared at him and asked with an ugly expression, "How was you driving? With your third leg or something?"

Jason replied glib tongued, "Oh, I've wanted to try it before, but unfortunately, although its hardness meets the standard required, it's still a little short in the length department and won't reach the clutch." His coworkers roared in laughter, and a few straddled up and poked their hands into his crotch, calling out, "Hey handsome, we'd like to help you get it longer!"

Jason smiled, strangled their necks, and ruthlessly slapped a few wolf claws off. Someone egregiously coaxed, "The target is attempting to resist, guys, get on him!" A bunch of men hence swarmed over him and tackled him to the ground, and amidst the chaos even some young girls moved their hands on him.

"Before I die, I decided to confess my love to you!" the victim cried out in agony, "Oh, Erika, I love you!"

At this time, the female manager could no longer maintain her vicious expression. She laughed and cursed, "Fuck you, Jason!" she then yelled at the top of her voice, "Back to work, you scumbags! Don't just try to get paid by wasting time!"

The noisy men quickly dispersed like birds, and Jason slipped into his seat to tidy up his torn clothes. Mike grinned across from him, making him suspect that he was also involved in the mess that had just groped his ass.

"Don't rush home from work tonight, my dear Jason," Mike said. "The guys have a party for you to celebrate your return from a stroll through the narrow gate of heaven."

"You bastards are trying to get me drunk again! Only if you arrange for a beautiful woman to take me home tonight," Jason complained, but there was a smiling expression in his eyes.

"It's not a problem to just fool around. I think Erika would agree, didn't you just confess?"

"My God, I'm afraid I'll have the life to go up and not the life to come down! I'm still young and don't want to die so early."

Two weeks later, Arrowhead Express.

Jason was in the middle of sorting through a large pile of packages when Julia poked half of her face through the door and called out, "Handsome, a letter!"

He reluctantly stopped what he was doing and walked over muttering, "There are mailboxes all over the street, why didn't that idiot fucking use them?"

"It's not an express delivery, dear. It was directly stuffed into your inbox."

Jason picked it up, puzzled and suspicious. There was no postmark or address on the envelope, only 'Simon Martinez' written in the place of the sender.

It seems that the young doctor with the beautiful light-colored eyes is in the clear, Jason thought cheerfully. He found a quiet corner, opened the envelope, and read.

'Dear Jason: I don't know why I am sending you this letter; it will only make your mood dark and heavy, but you have no responsibility or obligation to bear it. A youngster selfishly wrote this letter out of weakness and pain; he has been extremely depressed for the past few days, and has been unable to sleep all night, so if you still consider him a friend, I beg you to be benevolent enough to give him a little comfort and encouragement.'

Jason sighed. "Of course, poor Simon." He continued reading.

'This whole thing was practically like a nightmare that happened while I was in a coma. When I woke up, they even tried every means to keep it from me until I found out the truth the day before yesterday. I only had time to see him through the glass one last time and then I cried, just like I did when Nicole left me... I could not contain my grief. I respected and loved him as a father and brother, yet I felt like a cursed seed of doom. All those I love will leave me...'

"You've got to learn to be a little less pessimistic, Simon. The world is always full of both despair and hope," Jason muttered. "That 'he' you speak of... Could it be?!"

'Yes, Professor Douglas Neff, my esteemed superior, mentor and senior... It happened two weeks ago, and I was still in the intensive care unit. I guess you had just been discharged at that time. Our hospital admitted a fifteen year old Asian-American boy who presented with symptoms such as high fever, headache, and muscle spasms. The attending doctor diagnosed him with acute encephalitis, but Dr. Neff did not believe so. He investigated and found that the boy had recently returned from a family trip in Malaysia, suspecting that he had contracted some kind of deadly virus there. Against all objections, he strictly isolated the patient and took tissue samples, comparing them with various viruses with similar symptoms in history. Sure enough, he discovered a close relationship with the Nipah virus, possibly a new variant of it. This type of virus cannot be effectively treated to this day, and the patient quickly develops terminal coma symptoms. The situation was very bad, and only ribavirin could be used to delay his time as much as possible. Dr. Neff locked himself up in the laboratory all day and all night doing antibody research, and a terrible accident occurred that night. The cryogenic specimen storage tank controlled by the microcomputer malfunctioned, the virus test tube got stuck and burst, and the operating table was severely contaminated. As far as we know, the Nipah virus is not quite contagious, but it was such a damn coincidence that Dr. Neff had a wound on his arm, probably a scratch left by one of his patients...'

"Oh my god..." Jason tightly covered his mouth with his right hand, as if afraid he might cry out uncontrollably. He widened his eyes and stared at the letter, unable to blink. There were a few places where the handwriting was a bit blurry, and he could tell it was from liquid dripping down on it and smudging the ink.

"The boy eventually passed away and they confirmed that Dr. Neff was infected with a variant of the Nipah virus. I cannot imagine what he was feeling at the time, but from his colleagues I learned that he never gave up his identity and responsibility until he died... He refused to use ribavirin and asked his colleagues to conduct treatment experiments on him. In just a few days, they couldn't remember how many antiviral drugs had been injected into him, so much so that they were saddened to see the bruises and pinholes on his arms... The treatments were not successful, and Dr. Neff's neurological signs and symptoms deteriorated progressively. He had extreme difficulty in breathing and was accompanied by irreversible hypotension and peak fever, but until he fell into a coma, he continued to calmly direct the procedures of the clinical trials, urging them to document each step of the deterioration in detail as a source of information for future research, just like a general commanding troops in the forefront of the battlefield amidst the fire, fighting until the very end of his life... I still remember the glistening tearful look of despair in Director Klaus' eyes as he pronounced him brain dead, and the doctors and nurses around the glass wall of the isolation room lowered their heads deeply, sobbed uncontrollably...'

Jason uttered a string of inexplicable syllables from deep in his throat, squeezed out between his tightly clenched fingers, sounding like something shattering under a heavy blow. He immediately released his palm and filled his mouth with fresh air, as if there was a blockage in his lung duct that made it difficult to breathe. He felt a little too dizzy to even read the next part properly, so he had to skip segments of blurry black and white images and look directly at the last few lines.

'I'm well aware that as a dedicated and responsible doctor, we cannot waver in our beliefs due to personal emotions. Dr. Neff had already set an example for us, but I just couldn't act as if nothing had happened. I could see him in the office, in the lab, in the aisles of the wards, anywhere in the hospital, always carrying medical records and files, his steps hurried but steady and confident. He was always among us. Jason, perhaps you can teach me how to turn a blind eye? I'm close to the breaking point — yours truly, Simon Martinez.'

'P.S.: The funeral of Dr. Neff will be held at the Kensico Cemetery this afternoon at 3 p.m. We have already cremated his body, but the casket will not be empty, it will be filled with flowers and remembrances. It is said that he kept raving during his last waking hours, no one present heard him clearly, but they said it looked like he was apologizing to someone. I believe no matter what mistakes he has made, he will be forgiven by God in the end.'

The letterhead, folded end to end in quadruplicate, was unconsciously crumpled by his fingers, and Jason stood straight up, breathing deeply. After a long time, until he was sure that he would not make a shivering voice again, he took out his mobile phone and dialed a phone number. "...Spiya Flower Shop? I'd like to order a bouquet of funeral flowers to be picked up at two o'clock in the afternoon... Something simple and elegant, yeah, a large one... No, not perfumed lilies..." he paused, turning his face toward the treetops outside the window, from which a gray finch chirped and flew. "Birds of paradise [1]," he murmured, staring at the fading traces of wings in the sky, his eyes sinking into an endless blue.