The Instructor led them deeper into the forest as the sun bled out behind the canopy. Torches flickered along the path like ancient beacons, though they did nothing to soften the Instructor's bark:
"NO MATS. NO PILLOWS. NO BEDS. THE EARTH IS YOUR MOTHER. SLEEP WITH HER."
The alphas whooped like they'd just been told Santa Claus was real. Jason pounded his chest. "The ground hardens the body!"
Jeremiah's face crumpled. "The ground harbors insects. *Many* insects. Mother Earth sounds like a neglectful parent to me."
They arrived at a clearing. The "campsite" was nothing but dirt, a few logs, and the sinister buzz of mosquitoes that had clearly been waiting for fresh blood.
Jeremiah looked around in horror. "Where is the bedding?"
The Instructor smirked. "You have your skin. Lie down. Embrace the crawlies."
Jeremiah clutched his silk robe tighter around him, visibly trembling. "I'd sooner embrace the gallows."
Jason crouched beside him, already tearing palm fronds from nearby trees. "Don't worry, brother. I'll make you something."
Jeremiah blinked. "You're… building me a bed?"
Jason growled, slamming the fronds together like a caveman reinventing interior design. "A nest. For comfort. For alpha preservation."
The other bros nodded approvingly. "Yes. Alpha carpentry."
Alpha Girl raised an eyebrow. "Looks like nesting."
"Exactly," Alpha Bro #2 agreed. "Like lions in the wild. Very primal."
Jeremiah, meanwhile, was trying not to cry. Jason had crafted a pitiful bundle of leaves, but the effort hit him in places he hadn't expected. Jason's knuckles were scraped, his jaw tight with determination, all because Jeremiah had muttered something about bugs.
Jason set the frond-bed down triumphantly. "There. Nature won't touch you now."
Jeremiah sniffled. "That's… incredibly stupid. But—" His voice cracked. "But also the nicest thing anyone's ever done for me."
Jason panicked. "Are you hurt? Is your ankle worse?!"
Jeremiah waved his hands, tearing up. "No! No, I'm just—God, I'm *emotional*. Stop looking at me like that."
Jason's chest ached. He couldn't stop looking.
---
Night fell heavy. The other alphas sprawled across the dirt, snoring like chainsaws. Jason sat upright, guarding Jeremiah like a sentry. Jeremiah lay beside him, his silky hair cushioned on Jason's arm because the log he'd tried earlier had been "too brutish for his follicles."
For a while, it was almost peaceful. Then Jason felt it: dampness against his skin.
He froze. *Tears.*
His stomach dropped. He tilted his head to see Jeremiah's face half-hidden in shadow, eyes squeezed shut, cheeks damp.
"Bro," Jason whispered urgently. "Are you in pain? Is your ankle screaming? Are the bugs eating you alive? Tell me where it hurts—I'll kill it."
Jeremiah cracked one eye open. His voice was hushed, trembling. "…It doesn't hurt."
Jason frowned. "Then why are you crying?"
Jeremiah bit his lip. His lashes glistened. "Because… you're too good to me. Nobody ever… makes nests for me. Or stays awake guarding my stupid hair from logs. Or—" He hiccupped softly. "You make me feel things, Jason. And I hate it. And I love it. And I don't know what to do with it."
Jason's brain short-circuited. *Feel things?* He couldn't compute.
"Protein powder," he muttered. "It's the powder messing with your emotions."
Jeremiah let out a weak laugh, then buried his face against Jason's chest. "You're such an idiot."
Jason froze, every nerve on fire. Jeremiah's breath was warm, his frame slender and shaking. Slowly, cautiously, Jeremiah slid closer, tucking himself under Jason's chin like he'd always belonged there.
"I like this," Jeremiah whispered into the dark. "This thing with you. We should… do more things together. Like this. But with mattresses. And maybe scented candles."
Jason's arm curled around him instinctively, shielding him from everything—bugs, logs, feelings. His heartbeat hammered against Jeremiah's cheek.
Jeremiah, cheeks flushed pink even in the moonlight, nuzzled closer and sighed. Within minutes, he was asleep, snuggled into Jason's chest.
Jason sat stiff, staring at the stars through the jungle canopy. He couldn't move. His entire body was molten chaos.
He whispered to himself, "Damn protein powder these days."
The night hummed with insects, alphas snored like beasts, and somewhere in the midst of all that testosterone and dirt, two idiots in denial lay tangled together, dreaming very different dreams of brotherhood.