The silence in the cabin, previously heavy with the tension of the accident, had transformed into a disturbing void during the minutes Jake spent in the kitchen. The Canadian hadn't realized that time was passing slowly enough to drive Aibek to despair. Alone, wrapped in blankets that smelled of firewood and his companion's scent, the Kazakh's mind began to weave shadows. The panic, which had barely dissipated, rushed back against his senses with renewed force, making him feel unprotected in the vastness of the forest.
"Jake! Jake!" his voice, barely a broken whisper, echoed through the room.
Small tears, crystalline and heavy with visceral anguish, escaped his dark eyes, which shone intensely under the cabin's dim light. Jake, who was busy arranging things on the table at that moment, heard the trembling tone, and his heart skipped a beat. Without a second thought, he abandoned his tasks and rushed into the living room. Finding Aibek curled in on himself, he threw himself by his side, surrounding him with the security of his arms and kissing his still-damp cheeks with devotion.
"I'm here... I'm here, little one. I'm not going anywhere," Jake murmured, feeling the younger man slowly deflate, letting out the air he had been holding in his lungs as physical contact anchored him back to reality.
The relief was mutual; both needed that constant reassurance. After a moment of truce, Jake took him with extreme delicacy and guided him toward the bathroom, where he had previously prepared a tub with water at the perfect temperature, letting a few drops of rose essence perfume the air, seeking to dissipate the last remnants of the trauma.
"It smells good... I like it..." Aibek sighed, letting the floral aroma envelop his senses, helping him relax his tense muscles.
"I know... it's your favorite. Or did you think I didn't know your tastes?" Jake replied with a flirtatious wink, forcing a smile onto the black-haired youth's face.
That small interaction was the catalyst that returned peace to Aibek's heart. He felt cared for, valued, and, above all, safe. Jake, watching him with a devotion he could barely contain, took advantage of the proximity to kiss his cheek, sealing a silent promise of protection. However, they couldn't claim victory yet; in the shadows, the figure of Zinov Kuznetsov loomed as an imminent obstacle. The Russian, from afar, boiled with possessive fury, convinced that no one but him had the right to look after Aibek. For Zinov, the Canadian was nothing more than a passing nuisance that had to be eliminated from the equation.
After a night of restorative rest, the reality of their professional lives claimed them once more. Both boys began packing their bags; the experience in the forest had taught them that the risk of remaining there was unnecessary, so they preferred to make an orderly exit, bring everything down to the car, and enjoy one last meal in that setting that, despite the scares, was beginning to mean something special to them.
"Can we come back later?" Aibek asked, looking toward the wooded horizon with renewed hope.
"Of course we can! We can come as many times as you want," Jake replied, radiant. He wanted to give the Kazakh everything he possibly could, from the fruits of his sponsorships to the simplest moments of peace, wishing for his life to become a constant refuge against competitive pressure.
The drive back to the city passed in an atmosphere of enveloping warmth. The accumulated exhaustion finally overcame Aibek, who fell fast asleep curled up among the blankets Jake had set out for him. The Canadian, at the wheel, couldn't stop glancing at him, treating him already as his partner, though he forced himself to maintain a prudent pace so as not to startle the younger man.
"Rest, my queen," Jake whispered, gently caressing the Kazakh's cheek.
The peace in his body was palpable, until Aibek's phone, forgotten on the center console, began to vibrate with aggressive insistence. Upon seeing the name "Zinov" lighting up the screen, Jake felt a visceral urge to throw the device out the window. Mastering his rage, he simply picked up the phone and silenced it, preventing the Russian's name from disturbing his beloved's sleep.
"Jake..." Aibek murmured in his dreams, causing the Canadian to jump. Hearing his voice, even in sleep, made him feel at home.
"I'm here, honey. Keep sleeping," he tucked him in better, his eyes set on a future where no one could snatch that tranquility away from him.
Meanwhile, in Russia, Zinov Kuznetsov paced his room, growling like a caged predator at receiving no response. Madness was beginning to cloud his judgment. Before him lay a photograph of Aibek on the podium, his gold medal around his neck.
"Damn it, Bek! What are you doing?" he growled to himself before forcing himself into an unnatural calm. "I'll give him time... if I push him too hard, he'll run away, and I can't allow that. Soon you will be all mine. I will lock you in the house, no one will ever see you again, no one will even be able to admire your talent. If you refuse... well, a timely fall can end your career before you even think about leaving me."
Zinov's plan was dark and possessive, a web of control meant to nullify Aibek's will under the guise of distorted love. In the car, the phone rang again. Aibek, waking up due to the persistence, picked up the device with annoyance. With a coldness that surprised even Jake, he typed a message: "Later, I'm sleeping" and sent it before tossing the phone onto the seat.
"Rest, Beky," said the Canadian, covering him with more blankets upon noticing the change in his mood.
"Thank you... Jake..." Aibek responded, gifting him a smile so sweet and genuine that it left the Canadian completely stunned, his heart galloping against his ribs, aware that, despite the storm gathering ahead, the path between them had just been thrown wide open.