we’re a mash unit

-

~One Day~

  “Why don’t we…?” His hand brushed your ass as he came up behind you.

You pushed it away immediately, thoroughly unamused by him. You were getting tired of him and his horniness (you still enabled him so you weren’t completely blameless). “Nope, we’re not doing that here.”

He held his hands up in defense as he backed off, going to sit in a chair. “Alright, I’ll behave.”

“Good…”

He smirked at you from his seated position. “How badly did you wanna say “boy” after that?”

You shot him a look. “Shut up.”

“Yes, ma’am.” The smirk had not left his face.

You sighed and pinched the bridge of your nose. “Why do you do this to her?”

“To Tammi?” He asked for clarification that was not needed. He’d fucked you, then he’d been coming to your house for booty calls… specifically to have you suck his dick and to finger you or eat you out. 

“Do you love her?”

“Of course I love her!”

“So stop fucking around with me, okay?! It’s not fair to her.”

“I love her but there’s no spark anymore. We don’t make love anymore. She loves that dog she claimed to hate more than she loves me. She understands it better too. And maybe it understands her more than I do.”

“You’re still married to her, Sam! It’s not right.”

“I’m meeting with an attorney.”

“You’re divorcing her?”

“I-I can’t do this anymore with her. She’s so…I don’t even know anymore. She does these stupid fucking things and I just…she comes from a good family, right? She was always taken care of. And now I’m responsible for taking care of her. She’s used to that. It’s just…she’s an adult woman and I swear sometimes it's like she’s a child. She doesn’t really understand me or my work. I really question marrying an upper-middle class woman.”

“You think you should’ve married a cop?”

“Or at least someone with a little more worldly experience. She’s so uncomfortable around anyone who isn’t from her world.”

“You’re from a working class family.”

“Cops are “honorable”. And me making 70k a year doesn’t hurt. Middle middle class. It’s not that much of a downgrade. And she’s got her own savings anyway. Mommy and daddy love their little girl.”

“But she doesn’t work, right?”

“Nope. But she wants a really expensive camera. I dunno how I’m supposed to pay for it.”

“Hobby?”

“She’s really good at it.”

“Good enough to make buying an expensive camera worth it?”

He tilted his head at you. “What’re you getting at?”

“She flighty about hobbies? Flitting from one to the next?”

He shook his head. “No, she’s not like that.”

“She know you’re seeing an attorney?”

“Not yet.”

“But you’re still buying her a camera?”

He just shrugged. “She’s still my wife. I-I still love her.”

“Do us both a favor, Bryant. Figure out who and what you want and don’t jerk both of us around, okay? It’s not fair to any party.” If he stopped hanging around you, wanting your touch… maybe you could both walk away from this sooner rather than later.

“Alright, you’re right. I’ll…figure my shit out.”

You walked out of the room, satisfied with the conclusion of the conversation. Sammy watched your ass as you went.

“Fuck.” He whispered softly to himself, about this clusterfuck and about your ass.

  ~Some Time Ago~

  “And then she says… ‘what gun? That’s a banana, officer, I swear!’!”

Dewey’s sudden, boisterous laughter set you on edge. You could feel your shoulders bunch up. You were definitely gonna need another drink. Like…now.

You stood up from the table, going to excuse yourself when a hand found your shoulder.

“I got it.” Bryant’s voice murmured in your ear.

“I could use a break from the table.” You said awkwardly, not sitting back down.

“Join me, then. I was gonna grab another one too. I’m still payin’ for yours too.”

“Alright…”

You followed Sam closely as you weaved past people to the bar. He flagged the bartender.

“Tammi not with you tonight?” You asked curiously. You hadn’t seen her.

“She’s not really a people person. Doesn’t really “get” my people.”

“I think a lot of cop wives probably feel that way.”

He shrugged it off. “Yeah, well…she’s never really made an effort to get to know any of my buddies.”

“I’m really sorry. Is it important to you for her to be here?”

“It’d be nice, yeah.” He flagged the bartender again, frustrated. “Hello? Can’t a handsome guy and a pretty gal get some service here?”

“That’s not your wife, Bryant.” The bartender quipped.

“Does that make what I said untrue? No. I’ll have a whiskey. And the lady…?”

You gave the bartender your drink order. Now you had to wait.

“So what about you?” Sammy asked, trying to change the subject slightly. “Didn’t bring anyone tonight?”

“Oh, no. You know me… always solo.”

“That by choice or…?” He trailed off.

You sighed deeply. “God, I dunno really.”

“What, gal like you?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” You asked curiously.

“Good job, put together, and I meant what I said. You’re an attractive woman.”

You scoffed lightly. “I do hope you can handle that whiskey coming your way.”

He smiled and shook his head. “I’m not drunk. I swear. And I’m not…god, I’m not hitting on you. I’m just calling it like I see it, plain and simple.”

“You really think I could catch a guy?”

“Why not?” He shrugged.

Your drinks arrived. You both sipped on them. The alcohol felt good going down.

“I’m not like that.”

“Not like what? Not into the whole dating thing?”

You shook your head. “Not really. Can’t really find the time. Nothing wants to stick.”

He leant in a bit. “You puttin’ in the effort to make it stick?”

“Maybe…maybe not…” You murmured, sipping your drink again.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” He teased.

“I-I…just don’t bring much to the relationship table. Guys…don’t like women who are in forensics.”

“Fuck them, okay? You’re a total badass.”

“Not really. I’m not even a cop, just a forensic-”

“Hey, hey, no. You’re a badass, okay? There’s no argument there.”

“I-”

He booped your nose. “Hey, no argument means no arguing.”

“You’re literally-”

“Look at me.” He met your gaze. “You. Are. A. Bad. Ass.”

You avert your gaze but he doesn’t let you off the hook. “Say it, sweetheart. I’m not letting this go.”

“I really wish you would…” you murmured.

“Well tough, because I’m not gonna. We’re not moving on until you say it. And I’m not gonna let you even try to argue about it.”

“It’s-” you started.

“I’m.” He cut you off.

“Not-” you continued.

“A.” He cut you off again.

“True!” You exclaimed, exasperated.

“Badass. Yes, it is true!” He finished.

You sighed heavily. “Explain.”

He indulged you. “You understand criminals better than anyone I know. You interview them. You study them.”

“What about that is so badass?”

He looked at you in disbelief. “Seriously? You don’t know?”

You shook your head, clueless, frustrated. “No. That’s why I’m asking!”

He actually laughed at the absurdity of you not knowing you’re a badass. “You literally help officers and detectives catch criminals! We couldn’t do what we do without you. And I personally think that’s badass. Come on, take the fuckin’ compliment. This isn’t a time to be humble.”

“I guess I’m pretty good at my job…and it’s a good job. It makes me feel good.”

“You guess?” He laughed loudly and it didn’t set you on edge like Dewey’s laugh did.

“I don’t really…know.”

He set his hand on your shoulder. “Well, I’m telling you, honey. You’re a badass. And you’re very good at your job. Trust me. I’ve seen you in your element and it is a sight to behold.”

“Well…thank you. I can only hope I come across as…competent.”

“You’re…impressive, not just competent.”

He downed the rest of his drink and ordered another.

“You’re sure you’re good for another?”

“I’m fine.” He laughed it off.

“Mhm…sure you are…”

He narrowed his eyes at you. “You don’t believe me?”

You shook your head. “No, actually, I don’t.”

“I can hold my liquor.” He insisted.

“I won’t ask you to prove it.”

“You don’t have to ask.”

“I will insist you don’t, then. I will not be responsible for more alcohol entering your system.”

“Lighten up a little, sweetheart.” He grasped your arm and shook you slightly.

You shoved his hand away. “Don’t be like that, okay? Don’t be like Dewey.”

He leaned in, expression intensifying a bit. “I’m nothing like Dewey.”

“How many drinks is that, then?”

He scoffed. “Are you my mother?”

“How many drinks, Bryant?” You insisted.

“Three, Jesus. Why are you on my ass, what are you, my mom? My wife?”

“Are you drinking more because of problems in your marriage?”

“Are you trying to…psychoanalyze me right now?”

“I’m asking because I’m a concerned friend, Sam.”

“I’m fine.” He gritted out.

“This why Tammi didn’t wanna come? Didn’t wanna see you drunk?”

“Shut up!” He hissed.

“No! You’re a mess, Bryant. Switch to water.” You got up to leave but Sammy stood up abruptly.

“I-I’m sorry, alright? Fuck, I’m so sorry.” He looked so pathetic, with his puppy dog sad eyes. “I was an ass, okay? Can you forgive me?”

“Drink water. Sober up.”

“Alright. I’ll switch to water.” He conceded.

You both sat back down at the barstools. The bartender switched Sam to a big cold glass of water which his body thanked him for sipping.

“God, what was I thinking touching you like that?” Sam’s muffled voice came as he had his face in his hands.

“Just don’t do it again, okay? And keep drinking water.” You commanded him.

“I swear I won’t do it again.”

“Make sure you don’t. Or I’ll smack you.”

“I hear you.”

“I’m driving you home. And don’t you argue with me about that.”

“Hypocrite.” He huffed.

“Yeah, yeah.”

“I’ll only let you drive me home if you admit you’re a badass.”

You sighed deeply. “No, Sammy…no.”

“…yes…” he teased slightly.

You huffed. “Fine. I’m a badass. Happy? Can we go now? I’m exhausted.”

“I don’t believe you but I’m also exhausted so yeah, we can go.”

He settled his bar tab and yours and followed you out of the bar and toward your vehicle. Luckily, he’d caught a ride with Nate so he wasn’t leaving his vehicle here. He’d informed Nate he had a ride home and he left.

He got in the passenger seat of your vehicle and you began to drive to his home.

“Actually… could you take me to a motel?” He spoke up.

You looked over at him. “You’re sure?”

He nodded. “Don’t wanna go home. I’m sure.”

“Have a preference for a motel?”

“Nope. Just…away from home.” He looked out the window.

“You really wanna spend the night in a motel? You’ll be alright alone?”

“I’ll be fine. I’m a detective, remember?” He waved you off.

“You sobered up?”

He looked at you and considered this, then nodded. “Enough. You’re driving, right? So what’s the matter?”

“I wouldn’t leave you alone…drunk…and lonely…”

“I’m not drunk.” He insisted. “I’ve been drinking water.”

“Are you emotionally okay to be alone, though?”

“Yeah, I’m fine. It’s not that big of a deal. I just need a break for a night.”

“You were drinking quite a bit.”

“But I’m fine now!” He insisted.

“You never answered my question as to why you were drinking. You usually don’t drink so much.”

“If I say it is because things are a little tense at home?”

“You just wanna cool down?”

“I swear to God. I just want some time alone. I’m sober and I’m an adult.”

“Alright, Mr. Adult.”

You pulled into the parking space of a parking lot of a definitely suspicious establishment.

“This okay?”

“It’s good enough. Thanks.” He got out of the passenger seat.

You watch him walk towards the motel check-in front desk. He really tried not to stumble at all but you definitely notice him almost trip on the curb leading up to the door.

You’re out of the car and walking up behind him.

“I told ya I was fine.” He said, pausing at the door, but he didn’t look back at you.

“You tripped on the curb.”

“So that means I’m drunk?”

“Look me in the eyes and tell me you’ve sobered up enough.”

He stepped closer to you. He looked you right in the eye.

“I’m sober enough.”

“Prove it. Walk in a straight line.”

“You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me.”

“Do it, Bryant.” You insisted.

He hesitated and looked at you for a few seconds to determine if you were completely serious. You were very serious. He let out an exasperated sigh and moved away from you to walk in a straight line.

He didn’t fall on his face or his ass but he wobbled a bit and lost his footing/balance slightly, his feet spreading to steady himself.

“We’re getting a double.” You declared as you entered the motel front desk/lobby.

He is hot on your heels. “I think I’m just taking whatever they have. You are getting in your car and you’re going home. We aren’t doing anything.”

“Do you have any doubles?” You asked the woman sitting behind the desk, ignoring Sammy.

“We’ve only got singles here, honey.”

“Only singles? We need a double.”

“Only got rooms with big queen beds in them. Why do you need a double? You two make a handsome enough couple.”

“We’re not a couple.” You quickly corrected her.

“So you’re also not…?”

“No. We’re not anything, just work colleagues.”

“Then a single should be fine.”

“I don’t want to sleep with him. Period.”

“Tell me how you really feel.” He scoffed. You shot him a look. He put his hands up in defense.

“You’re just gonna have to make it work. I’m sorry.”

“Just shut up and take the bed, alright? I’ll sleep in a chair or something.”

“There’s no chairs in our rooms.”

You and Sam looked at the woman at the same time, then at each other at the same time.

“I’ll sleep on the floor.” Sammy offered.

“Your back will literally be sobbing. You don’t have to do that.”

“Oooor…you could just go home.”

“No.” You said adamantly.

“Then it looks like we’re sharing a bed. You made it. Lay in it.”

You gave him a hard look as he got cash out to pay for the room.

“I’m gonna need more than that, honey.”

Sam looked sheepishly back at you. “Help pay for the room you’re staying in?”

You chuckled and shook your head. “Sure. Fine.”

You got cash out of your wallet and covered the rest of the fee.

The lady gave you both a room key.

“Thank you.”

The room is even sadder than you ever could’ve imagined.

“Yeah, no way I’d leave you here alone.”

“TV. Pay-per-view. I’d have been fine.”

“Oh! Yeah! Sure.” A beat. “Hey, Sam?”

“Yeah?”

“Neither of us has any change of clothes or toiletries.”

He looked at you, this dawning on him. He started to laugh. “No. We don’t. I’m gonna have a walk of shame tomorrow.”

You started laughing along with it. “How’re you gonna explain that?”

“I dunno. I really should’ve thought this through.”

“We both should’ve. There’s only one bed!”

“Right! There is!” You both keep cracking up.

“We have to sleep in these clothes.”

“Speak for yourself. I’m stripping down to my boxers.”

“Wha-Sam! No! Not when I’m in the bed.”

“What? I’m not gonna touch you.”

“You’d better not.”

He put his hands up defensively. “Don’t worry. I won’t. You tired? I’m exhausted. Come on. Let’s just sack out.”

He flopped down on the bed. He patted it.

“C’mere, baby.”

You grimaced at him. “Don’t “baby” me…”

“Come on. Get on the bed.”

You scoffed and hopped into bed next to him.

“You keeping your clothes on?” You asked him. He’d said he’d be stripping. And he was still clothed.

He smiled dickishly at you. “Want me outta them?”

You frowned. “Shut up. Keep ‘em on.”

“If you want me outta them so bad…” he tugged his shirt off.

“I really don’t. Put your shirt back on, Bryant.”

“It’s hot as shit in here. The A/C is broken and I’m tired. I’m keeping my shirt off.”

“Keep your jeans on, then.”

“Nope. Those are coming off too.” He had already undone his belt and put that aside so he moved to unbutton and unzip his jeans. He wiggled out of them, and in the process of doing this, his foot touched yours.

You squeaked. “Don’t touch me!”

“Calm down, I didn’t touch you.”

“Your foot did.” You shot back.

“My foot? You’re freaking out over my foot. My socks aren’t even off yet.”

“DO NOT TAKE YOUR SOCKS OFF!” You barked.

He smiled. “Oh, they’re coming off, baby.”

“Stop calling me baby!” You huffed.

“You’re the one insisting on sleeping in a bed with me.”

“That is so not the entirety of what’s happening here and you know it.”

“Simply…go home…if you don’t like sharing a bed with me this fucking much.”

“For the last time, I am not leaving you alone tonight, Bryant.”

“I’m literally so sober right now, I think I’m gonna cry about it actually.”

“I literally do not care.”

“So shut up about my feet, okay? And my clothes? Aren’t you roasting in that? Come on, show some skin.”

You frowned deeper. “No. I’m sleeping in my clothes.”

“You are going to be so uncomfortable. Meanwhile…” he’d finally managed to wrestle his jeans off, “I am going to be so comfortable.”

He maneuvered to take his socks off so the only remaining item of clothing on his body was his boxers. You shifted away from him to the other side of the bed. You’d decided to sleep above the covers while Sam got up to pull them back to get under them. He was just right there in his boxers. You tried not to take a peek at him before he got under the covers. Luckily, your back was already to him as you were lying on your side now. Over the covers. In your clothes.

He graciously shifted to face away from you, so your backs were facing each other now.

You couldn’t get comfortable so you shifted around.

“Could you stop please? I’m trying to sleep.” He huffed.

“Sorry…” you murmured.

“If you can’t get comfortable, maybe lose some clothes and get under the covers? At least lose the clothes. How aren’t you boiling?”

“Shut up. Just let me get comfy. Go to sleep.”

“You won’t be comfy until you’re wearing less clothes and I can’t go to sleep until you stop moving therefore I won’t shut up.”

You’re on your side facing him and he’s facing you now on his side. His soft cheeks are dusted pink, his head resting on his arm. His eyelashes are batting at you. “Go to sleep.”

“No.”

He scoffed dramatically. “And just what am I supposed to do with you?”

“You’re supposed to let me look after you.” You murmured.

“We’re in this motel bed together, aren’t we? I told you that you could leave…”

“You’re supposed to tolerate my presence. Not badger me.”

“I do much more than merely tolerate your presence and you know it. And I only badger you out of love.”

You scoffed. “Oh, is that what it is?”

“…yeah…it is. Come on. Get some sleep. You need it.”

“I look tired to you?”

“Very.”

“Shut up.”

“I will when you go to sleep.”

“Okay! Okay! I’m going…but I toss and turn! I can’t help it!”

He knows you’ll never get to sleep if he keeps badgering you so he holds his tongue and just leaves you be (thankfully).

He drifted off to sleep before you did, with you following and stilling after him. He was a pretty light sleeper on account of being a police detective so he’s grateful you’d settled down. At least for a little while.

You soon started to toss and turn. He was awakened pretty quickly by your fit. You then started to murmur. But you remained asleep.

“No…no…please no…”

Sam is immediately more alert when it becomes obvious you’re distressed in your sleep. He slid closer to you as you continued to squirm and murmur.

“Don’t hurt me. Please.”

Sammy put his hand on your shoulder and shook you slightly. “Hey…hey, wake up.”

You did not awaken immediately, continuing to react to whatever nightmare you were having.

Sam scooted closer to you, his concern for you growing.

“Hey, hey, come on, sweetheart. Wake up for me. Wake up.” He shook harder and even chanced a tap to your cheek.

You gasped sharply as you came to consciousness, one hand immediately clinging to his bicep. A thin layer of sweat could be felt by you at the back of your neck.

“Hey, hey, it’s just me. It’s Sammy. You’re alright.” He soothed you. “Quite the nightmare, yeah?”

“…yeah…”

“Well you’re safe with me, okay? Just take a few deep breaths for me, alright?”

You took a slow deep breath in, held it, then exhaled slowly.

“That’s it. Just breathe.” He spoke calmly, his hands holding your shoulders. “Do you need water?”

You nodded. Water sounded like a very good idea.

“Okay. Hey, you’re safe now, okay?”

You nodded as you started to calm down a little. “Okay…yeah, okay.”

After making sure your breathing had evened out, he got up and put his pants on. He then went to the little table to get his wallet and keys and room key. “I’m gonna go find you a bottle of water, okay? You gonna be okay here by yourself? I won’t be long. I promise. Call me if you need me before I’m back, okay?”

“Okay.” You heard yourself say but your voice sounded weak.

He left you alone in the room while he went to look for some vending machine that would dispense a Dasani or Aquafina for him to bring back to you.

You tried to focus on your breathing.

In.

Out.

In.

Out.

That man couldn’t hurt you anymore. That man was dead. You’d seen him go down. You’d looked down at his body. You’d seen where the bullet had hit him in the head.

But the silence in the room was suffocating to you. It’s too goddamn quiet. How can it be in a shitty motel where people should be rowdy? You panicked and grabbed your phone to call him.

“Sammy?” You asked after he’d picked up immediately.

“You okay?”

“Where are you?”

“Right down the hall. Stupid water’s stuck in the vending machine.” You could hear the thud of his kick to it. “Ah-ha! Got it!”

“Great. Now get your ass back here.”

“I’m coming. I’m coming.” He hung up.

He was entering the room soon enough with the bottle in hand.

“You okay?”

“Just give me the water.”

“Okay, Grumpy.” He held it out to you.

You scowled at him as you took it from him.

“I’m not grumpy, I’m rattled. I had a nightmare.”

He took his pants off again, then sat upon the bed. “Feel like talking about it?”

You gulped water. “No.”

“Sip…sip…” he told you.

You gave him a stern look.

“Please?” He asked softly. “For me?”

You frowned at him but sipped the water. He lightly rubbed your arm.

“Feel better?”

You nodded. “A little.”

He rubbed your knee now. “What can I do to make you feel better?”

You looked into his eyes. “Would it be inappropriate to ask you to hold me?”

“I wouldn't care if it was. Come here.” He opened his arm and he held you against him.

“Thank you. I really appreciate this.”

“Don’t mention it.”

“You’re a good man, Samuel Bryant.”

This made him frown. “No, I’m not.”

“You’re a great friend, what do you mean?”

He huffed. “That’s exactly my point. I want to be more than your friend. I’m a married man but God help me, I want you. You’re emotionally vulnerable right now and I feel selfish wanting to keep you in my arms just because I want you against me.”

“Oh, Sammy…” you sighed, “what am I gonna do with you?”

He chuckled dryly. “I honestly have no idea. Maybe flog me?”

You chuckled softly. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

“Wouldn’t know until we tried.”

“Which we will not be doing.”

“What, are you more vanilla when it comes to sex?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know?”

“Actually, I would. That’s why I asked.”

“Well I’m not telling you.”

“Shame.”

“Shut up, Sammy. Just hold me.”

He swallowed thickly. “Yes, ma’am.”

“Good boy.” You whispered softly. You weren’t being serious. You were just saying it.

This caused him to stiffen, though.

“I’d be so good to you.” He spoke softly in return.

You sighed. “You can’t just say shit like that, Sammy. You’re married.”

“I know that! Doesn’t change the fact that I’d treat you like a fucking queen.”

“You have to stop talking. I told you to stop talking.”

“You’re the one who called me a good boy.” He murmured.

“Well I won’t ever do it again. Noted.”

“I-I liked it, though.”

“Jesus, Sammy, come on.”

“What?! I’m sorry? I can’t help it.”

“I am not your wife.” You reminded him.

“I know that.” He grumbled. “I said I couldn’t help it. But you can’t deny that we get along fairly well.”

“Except for when you’re too drunk and won’t admit it.” You chided.

“How often does that happen, though? And you’re only angry because you care about me, right?”

You furrowed your brows. “I still don’t see that as us “getting along”, though.”

“Most of the time, we get along, right?”

“Most of the time, yeah.” You agreed.

“I just feel like you get me better than Tammi ever will. You know how to handle asshole cops while she doesn’t even wanna meet them. You’re more comfortable living in the world while she’s comfortable pretending the world isn’t as bad as it actually is. She doesn’t try to understand the stress of my job while you absolutely do because you see it all the time. You’re so different than she is.”

“And that’s alluring to you?”

“Something like that, yeah.”

“That’s the worst part, isn’t it? Us being friends who fit so well together?”

“Not like she’d suspect it. It’s not like she knows you at all.”

“Sammy.” You chastised slightly.

“It’s true. I don’t think she even knows your name even though I’ve mentioned you to her several times. She never bothers to remember names. It’s like they’re my people, not hers, therefore they’re not important. Makes me feel unimportant if my friends are unimportant to her.”

“You’re not unimportant, Sammy.” You tried to console him.

“To her, I feel like I am. But you? You’re always genuinely interested in what’s going on in my life.”

“Generally speaking, that’s how friends work.”

“You really don’t see me as more than a friend?”

“Again, you are a married man.” You reminded him.

“Is that what’s stopping you?”

“I can’t pursue a relationship with a married man. That’s just not who I am.”

He sighed deeply. “Yeah, I know that.”

“I’m sorry, Sammy.”

“‘S not your fault.” He stroked your arm up and down.

“Maybe I should-” you slowly straightened up.

“Don’t. Please.” He whispered softly as he tried to keep you attached to him. “I need this. I need you.”

“You can’t have me, Sammy.”

“Why not?” He asked through watery eyes.

“I don’t need to answer that.”

“She withholds sex over every little thing or she’ll use it to get what she wants. It’s maddening. I’ve tried talking to her about it like an adult but she’s just not receptive to it.”

“Am I supposed to feel so bad for you, I’ll have sex with you?”

“What?! No, no. I didn’t mean that. I’m just venting. I don’t have any ulterior motives, I promise.”

“We’re all fucked up, Sammy, aren’t we?”

“Yeah… we are…” he whispered softly.

You let him lift your shirt over your head. The skin to skin contact was warm. It was hot even, as he held you to him. His lips met your temple.

“I’m sorry.” You murmured. “I don’t mean to take advantage of you.”

“I think we’re both sober enough for this at this point.”

You chuckled softly. “Sober but stupid.”

“Very, very stupid.” His lips ran down your jaw. “We really should stop. You’re right.”

“You don’t want to, though, do you?” You asked softly.

“God, no. But you seemed to have reservations about it. If you’re not sure, we shouldn’t be doing this.”

“I do want you, Sammy.”

He groaned softly. “Now you shouldn’t be saying that.”

“We can’t help how we feel.”

“But we can help what we do.” He lamented.

“Humans make mistakes, though.” You whispered.

“Am I a mistake worth making?”

“Am I?” You countered. “You’re the married one.”

“Absolutely.”

Your lips were on his before you could think better of kissing him. He reciprocated it more enthusiastically than you were expecting.

“Whoa, slow down there, cowboy.” You laughed against his lips.

“Nuh uh. Don’t tell me you haven’t felt this connection between us. You said you wanted me too.”

“I do want you. And I do feel it.”

“I’ve wanted you longer than I’ve been able to admit to myself.”

“Me too.”

Sammy smiled at that. He dove in for another kiss. Not satisfied anymore by you beside him on the bed, he tugged you into his lap, hands planted on your hips.

“Comfy?” He asked you.

“Are you?” You asked him.

He smiled that boyish smile of his. “Sure am.”

His hands caressed your waist, your back. He leant in to kiss your neck. “I’ve dreamed of holding you like this.”

“You have?”

“Mhm. You haven’t dreamed about my hands on you?” He murmured against your neck.

“Well I uh um…”

“It’s okay if you have or if you haven’t.”

“God, it’s so embarrassing.”

“You’re already in my lap. How much more embarrassing is any of this going to get?”

“I just doubt you’ve had a sex dream about me.”

“What makes you think I haven’t?”

“Well, you have Tammi.”

“But I told you I’ve wanted you. I’ve dreamt about you naked, on top of me. I’ve jerked off to you.”

You could feel his cock harden in his boxers underneath you. You shifted a bit and he hissed.

“You feel that? That’s for you. That’s from being in a bed with you. That’s from you being in my lap. That’s from thinking about the dreams I’ve had about you.”

“I really make you that hard?”

“All the fucking time.”

“All the… Sammy…” you sighed.

“I know, I know… it’s… bad.”

“You really can’t help it?”

“I’ve tried. But no, I can’t help what you do to me, sweetheart.”

“I wish I, too, could help how I feel.”

“How do you feel about me, hmm?”

“I’ve always thought you were very handsome and sweet.”

“Oh, just handsome and sweet, huh? Not sexy?”

“Well I also may have had a sex dream about you.”

“So you find me attractive?”

“I find you very attractive, yes.”

“Well I find you irresistibly attractive.”

“Yeah, I can feel it.”

“Do you wanna see it? Can I take it out?”

“Show me your cock, Sammy. I wanna see what’s going inside me.”

He groaned. “Jesus, sweetheart. You’re gonna kill me.”

“Don’t die yet, you haven’t fucked me.”

He laughed. “That’s true. I’ll try to stay alive for that.”

Your crotch further back from his (his hands were on your back to steady you), he tugged his boxers down a bit to fish his cock out. It was about average girth but it was slightly above average in length. And it was thickened… just for you.

“Touch it, sweetheart, please…”

You reached out your hand to wrap it around his length. He hissed sharply when your hand made contact with his cock. “Like that, Sammy?”

“Just like that, darling. Fuck. Squeeze a bit harder.”

You obliged him and strengthened your grasp on him. You tugged up and down, stroking him slowly.

“Look at me while you touch me.” He requested. You lifted your eyes to meet his. He smiled. “That’s it.” He continued. “Lemme see those eyes.”

His tip leaked precum as you continued to stroke him.

“You gotta stop.”

“Why?” You slowly retracted your hand. “Am I do-”

He cut you off when he saw your concerned expression. “Jesus Christ, no! No, that’s not it, honey. I’m gonna bust my nut too soon if you keep at it like that. And I don’t wanna do that.”

“Oh… okay…”

“Why don’t we get the rest of these clothes off of you, yeah?”

“Yeah, okay.”

He unhooked your bra. Your breasts were on full display to him now.

“Oh, wow.” He marveled at them.

“I know… they aren’t symmetrical…”

“What?” He did not peel his eyes away from your chest.

“They’re not symmetrical. They’re asymmetrical.”

“Oh… okay? You honestly can’t even tell.”

“My left breast is clearly smaller.”

“Well I still think they’re sexy.” He said it like it was some great duty he was taking upon himself, finding such ugly breasts to be mouthwatering.

“Why thank you.” You thanked him graciously.

His hands squished and squeezed them. “Goddamn, these are amazing.” He lightly pinched your nipples until they were hardened buds.

“Glad you… approve…”

“What kinda men have you been with, sweetheart, that aren’t appreciative of these?”

You huffed lightly. “You don’t wanna know.”

“Anyone I should know about?”

“Nothing like that, no.” You shook your head. “Just… bad compatibility.”

“You deserve someone who gives a shit about you.”

“…right…”

“You don’t believe me?”

“Conceptually… you’re correct…”

“Conceptually? How about practically?”

“In practice… I’ve never really experienced a um…” you lowered your voice to a mumble, “satisfying relationship.”

“I’m sorry, did you just say: “I’ve never really experienced a satisfying relationship”?”

“Yes?”

“Well that’s just a damn shame, then.”

“Gee. Thanks.”

“I mean that you deserve to be loved and taken care of. You deserve to be satisfied.”

“Yeah… sure, I do…”

“Hey, you do. I could satisfy you, you know.”

“Oh? Could you now?”

“Mhm. I could. I’d love to satisfy your needs, actually. You just have to let me.”

“I’m just not so sure how capable I am of satisfying your needs.”

“I’m a man, sweetheart. We aren’t exactly the most complicated.”

“You’re saying it wouldn’t take much?”

“Not when it’s you, no.”

“T-Tell me what you like.”

“A soft woman’s hand on my cock, firm grip, tugging up and down.”

“Like what I was doing before. What about a vagina?”

“Oh, any old one’ll do.” He joked.

“Oh, so you like older ladies?” You joked right back.

He laughed adorably. “That is not what I meant and you know it, missy.”

“Do I?”

He tickled your sides. “Yes, you do.”

“You’re sure I’m not too young for you?”

“You’re not. And I can prove right now just how similar to my type you really are.”

“Alright, Bryant, prove it.”

“Gladly. Let’s get these jeans off, shall we?”

He gently maneuvered you off of his lap so he could get your jeans unbuttoned. He tugged them off over your thighs and down your calves.

“There we go.” He smiled.

“Here we are…”

“I should take your panties off too.”

“Oh um I guess so…”

“Hey, sweetheart… look at me.”

Your gaze met his. “You don’t have to be afraid of anything with me. You know I think you’re gorgeous, right? I don’t give a shit about any stretch marks or rolls or pudge. And don’t you dare compare yourself to Tammi. I’m supposed to be showing you that you’re my type, aren’t I?”

“Yeah… you are.”

“So lemme see all of you… please. I promise you’re safe here with me. The last thing I am going to want to do is judge you, especially when you’re naked. For me.”

His eyes practically pleaded with you to get to see all of you naked and beautiful. He’d verbally beg you if he had to until you relented but he’d collared enough sex pests to know the difference between him and them. Your comfort mattered to him. He’d wait until you gave him the go ahead. Sex just wasn’t enjoyable for him if both parties weren’t on board.

“Alright. Let’s get ‘em off, then.”

His face lit up as he grasped the waistband and slowly tugged those off you as well. Both of your clothes laid in a pile on the floor.

“You wanna come sit back in my lap?”

“If-”

“It is. I do. C’mere, sweetheart.”

He was tugging you into his lap again and you were both naked now. You settled into his lap.

“Hello, beautiful.”

“Hi.”

“Comfortable again?”

“You got a hold of me?”

“Why would I ever let you go?”

“You know what I meant.”

“Sure, sure… still don’t plan on it.” His hands squeezed the flesh of your ass, moving you forward so your bare clit dragged against his bare cock.

You gasped sharply. “Sammy…”

“Yeah, sweetheart? What do you need, hmm? All you gotta do is ask. I’ll give you anything you need.”

“Kiss me again.”

He chuckled softly. “I offer to give you anything and you want another kiss?”

“It felt nice.”

“Just nice?”

“Shut up and kiss me.”

He liked you bossing him around a bit like this. “Yes, ma’am.”

He happily obeyed you and cupped your face firmly before bringing your mouth to his. His hands ran up and down your back and gripped your hips. He wanted to keep you as close to him as he possibly could. His cock was hard and his tip was swollen in between your bodies.

“Lemme touch that pretty pussy, baby.” He rasped in your ear.

You started laughing. “God, that’s how you’re asking?”

He frowned, brows furrowing. “What’s wrong with how I asked?”

“Lemme touch that pretty pussy, baby.” You imitated the raspy tone he’d used and kept laughing and laughing.

He removed his hands from your body. “Well if you don’t want me touching you…”

“No, I do, I do. I dunno why I found that so funny. I’m so sorry.” You rubbed his shoulders.

“Lie down on the fucking bed, sweetheart, and I’ll show you who you’re laughing at. You won’t be laughing, then, not when I make you cum.”

“If you can manage to do that.” You teased as you maneuvered yourself so you were laying on your back on the bed.

He chuckled and shook his head. “You really shouldn’t have said that, sweetheart. Now my pride is on the line.”

“So come show me what you can do.”

“With pleasure.” He smiled as he covered your body with his own.

He knee spread your thighs apart before he bracketed your legs with his. His hand found its way between your thighs to run through your folds and run at your clit. He rubbed it nice and even and slow.

“There? See? You like that? That’s good, innit? I told you I’d be so good to you, sweetheart. I’ll make you cum so hard, you’ll see stars.”

“You talk a… good game, Bryant.”

“You think this is all just talk? Nuh uh, baby. I’m gonna make you squeal and that’s a fucking promise.”

His lips met your neck as he continued to work over your bundle of nerves.

“After I make you cum with my fingers, I’m stuffing my big fat cock inside of you. Would you like that? My big cock stuffing you so full?”

“Y-Yeah, I’d like that.”

“Maybe I could give you a real big load.”

“You should use a condom, Sammy.”

“Don’t have one.”

“So go get one.”

“Lemme make you cum, then we’ll talk about it.”

“We’ll talk about it now, Samuel.”

He frowned but removed his fingers from you. “Fine… we’ll talk about it.”

“We shouldn’t have unprotected sex.”

“You’re clean, aren’t you? Because I’m clean.”

“You’re married, Sammy.”

“I know that. A-And Tammi and I have been trying for a few months now but nothing’s been happening.”

“It might just take some more time.”

“We fuck like rabbits when she’s ovulating. If it hasn’t happened yet…”

“It still could.”

“Can’t tell you how many times I’ve looked at ya and imagined what you might look like pregnant.”

“Sammy…”

“Come on. Just think about my thick raw cock inside of you.”

““Raw” sounds gross.”

“Raw-dogging sounds gross to you? Because it’s the sexiest thing to me, sweetheart. I promise it’ll feel so fucking good, especially when I spill my white hit load right against your cervix so it’ll reach your womb.”

“Yeah,” you scoffed, “because that’s how that works.”

“It is.” He insisted.

“And you would know how, oh dear childless friend of mine?”

“Ouch. You wound me, peaches. Unprotected sex is how babies are made: I know that’s true. Are you on birth control?”

“… no…”

“Perfect.”

“What about Tammi…”

“Pretend she doesn’t exist, alright? Just let me have this. Let me have you, all of you tonight.”

“This is so wrong.”

“So why does it feel so right?” His fingers slipped inside of you.

You sighed.

And you were so goddamn tired and lonely. And here Sammy was begging to worship you.

How could you say no to him?

  ~Some Other Day~

  You marched right up to his desk. “We need to talk, Bryant.”

“Well, I’ve-”

“Now, like urgently.” You insisted.

You both moved into a secluded room.

He crossed his arms as he stood in front of you. “What’s up?”

“I’m pregnant.” You cut to the chase.

He was shocked, blinking a couple of times. The pregnancy thing had been a kink to him more than anything else, really. He’d been absolutely shocked when you agreed to fuck him with no birth control or condom or plan b pill. He’d been taking a huge risk, obviously (you’d technically consented to letting him cum inside you, though and you seemed to have enjoyed rawdogging it with him) but now that you were saying you were pregnant? “Are you sure?”

You nodded. “Yes.”

“You’re sure it’s mine?”

“You’re the only man I’ve had sex with recently.”

“I’d been trying with Tammi… I told you that.”

“And then you have unprotected and penetrative sex with me once and just like that,” you snapped your fingers, “I’m pregnant.”

He rubbed the back of his neck. “Fuck…yeah…”

You put both hands. “I’m not saying anything about anything…”

“No, you’re right. It was probably Tammi, then.”

“Do you still want to go through with the divorce with her?”

“Yeah. I do. It’s just a cumulative thing, you know? It’s not just you. It’s not just because you’re pregnant. It’s not just because she wasn’t getting pregnant. I-it’s just…everything, I guess…”

“Did you ever do any kind of fertility testing?”

“Tammi refused to believe anything was wrong with either of us. She held out hope that it would just work somehow. But I don’t think it would’ve, even if we would’ve waited until the one year mark.”

“There’s no shame in infertility.” But there might be in infidelity. There’s 3 i’s in both words. And you doubted that was lucky.

“No woman in her family has ever had trouble getting pregnant. She’s got like three sisters. I think she’s got three aunts too…lots of cousins…”

You took a deep calming breath. “This isn’t fair to her. What’re you gonna do, leave her to help me raise my child?”

“Fuck, I-I dunno! Fuck…” he shook his head and paced.

“I’m not asking you to do anything, Sammy.”

“I know. And I’d never ask you to get rid of the baby but if you want to have it… I couldn’t not support it.”

“Are you gonna tell Tammi I’m pregnant by you?”

“I have to. Like you said, it’s not fair to her. I just dunno how she’s gonna react.”

“You won’t know until you tell her, I guess.”

  ~Two Weeks Later~

  He frantically knocked on your door on a Saturday at 10am.

“Sam, what is it?”

“She’s in love with her photography teacher who apparently is in love with her.”

“I’m sorry, what?” It was too early and you hadn’t had coffee yet.

“She’s taking some classes at this community college and she’s in love with her instructor.” He paced your living room floor.

“You’re kidding me.”

He stopped briefly to look at you. “No. I’m not. He “just gets her”.”

“What does she plan to…?”

“Amicable divorce. She thinks we were doomed now anyway. She wasn’t even mad I was unfaithful.”

“Seriously? She’s not mad?”

He shrugged. “She’s happy we’re both gonna be happy. I think deep down we’ve both known for a while we didn’t work all that well together. Doesn’t excuse my unfaithfulness but… humans make mistakes. I begged her to stay, to try to make it work. I apologized, and so did she, tearfully, but she wanted out too.”

“Still feels pretty shitty.”

“It’s not like she’s not reckless as fuck.”

“But did she ever break her marriage vow?”

He shook his head. “Not that I know of.”

  ~Two Weeks Later~

  “Motherfucker!” He exclaimed as he came into your home.

“Hello to you too?”

“She fucked him. We were still married and we were both unfaithful, how about that?”

“Jesus, Sammy, I-I…”

“Hey, no. You don’t have to say anything. I was way too strong that night. We’re both fucked up. Fucking powder keg that I’m surprised took this long to explode. What a goddamn mess!”

“She really fucked him?”

“Looked me right in the eyes. Serious as a heart attack.”

“So um… you’re both still okay with the divorce?”

“Yep. She doesn’t seem to give a shit.”

“So does that mean…?”

“Would you even have me? What a clusterfuck this has been?”

You cupped his cheeks. “Of course I will have you, Sammy.”

“Do you even want a child? My child?”

“If I really didn’t, I never would’ve let you cum in me.”

“You didn’t want to let me at first.” He murmured, averting his gaze to the floor.

“I would’ve kicked you in the balls, you know, if I really wasn’t ok with it.”

His puppy dog eyes met yours. “Promise?”

You smiled and nodded. “Promise.”

He sighed. “I still feel like a complete asshole."

You put a hand on his shoulder. “You should… because you were.”

the simple answer: he has no idea what to do with you. but he wouldn't admit that in a million years, so he just acts like he can tolerate the rainbows and unicorns that follow you around.

he brings them down with him on a consult in the ED, some construction worker with a severed hand that had high hopes of reattachment.

everyone puts on their best military-grade facade, even garcia's back straightens noticeably because park is just that much of a dick to everyone.

and here comes reader, practically buzzing with excitement as they trail right on brendon's heels. it really throws everyone for a loop because you're so close to him, and you're the one asking all the questions to robby—who seems so chuffed by all of this—and he answers happily.

park unwraps the hand and you're right there with him, cheek squished against his meaty bicep with eyes glimmering bright with wonder. you're grinning with delight and clapping your hands when brendon green-lights the reattachment.

and then you're both gone, park the shark being tailed by a little intern bristling with anticipation.

everyone is fucking gobsmacked because, what the fuck? since when was anyone under park's supervision happy to be there?

it wasn't uncommon to see park followed by a brood of his residents. the usual joke was that they were his shark pups, his offspring that he molded into annoyingly good surgeons.

but that doesn't apply to you. you're nothing like him, yet you learn from him all the same. your relationship is almost symbiotic, in a way, where you thrive on the challenges he throws at you and he secretly feeds off of the warmth you radiate.

and the correlation smacks garcia square in the face after crossing paths with the two about five ED consults later.

you are his remora. you clean up the mess of his apathy and he feeds you the fruit of his knowledge.

and that's what she starts calling you—that's what everyone starts calling you.

and brendon? he starts to call you the stupid name too.

but to him, it's possessive. it is a name that claims you as his own, not as offspring, but as something far more important that he doesn't want to name.

"i'll write a recommendation letter for you," he says one quiet afternoon when you're both munching on leftovers in the breakroom.

you're confused, he can tell by the apparent tilt of your head.

"when you complete your residency. i'll recommend you for an attending position here."

"... that is disgustingly generous for a guy like you."

"i won't work without my remora."

stay tuned for season 48 episode 7 when they finally kiss and hold hands🙂🙂🙂