Two hands One heart

Wherein Robby’s motorcycle is a red herring but not wearing a helmet is the true culprit.

———

And you still remember how didn't feel like you were antagonists at all the day he left, when he gave you his most genuine smile through the frustration he felt as you kissed his cheek and told him to get better.

So it's safe to say you have no idea what you're going to say to him once you're confronted with it. Should you act like nothing happened? You don't want to come off as mean. But can you act like his best friend all of the sudden? That seems like a bit too much.

You think you have enough time to think about it until walk into the locker hallway and he's standing right there, letter in hand as he reads it carefully.

He looks good, is the first thing you can think about. Casual clothes look good on him, making you wish you had more opportunities to see that side of him. Hair covered by the sports cap, bomber blue jacket hugging his torso and jeans that fit him just right. The bag slung over his shoulder tells you he's in here for the same reason as you.

"Langdon." The name slips easily from your tongue. Not Doctor Langdon, not Frank — just Langdon and exactly like you'd call him before. "You're back." As if it's some kind of surprise.

Frank looks up, and you're surprised by the way his lips stretch into a wide smile. You're too used to the roll his eyes that's followed by a smirk, not a warm smile.

“Hey.” His voice is unusually gentle, and to add up to your shock he steps in for a hug. “It’s so nice seeing you.”

His hands find your upper back, head almost against yours. It takes you a moment too long to react, hands moving from their awkward place at your sides to rest on his waist rather uneasily.

"Am i the first to see you?" You ask once he pulls away, as casually as possible.

"Oh no, there was big 'welcome back' sign when i walked in." He jokes, though you catch an undertone to it.

You notice how subconscious he seems to suddenly be, like he feels that no one has paid any mind to his absence. Which is a lie, because you didn't realize how his antics with you were a big part of your day until he was gone. And you find yourself talking about him with Mel without even realizing.

So instead of feeling like rolling your eyes at his smug remark, all you want to do is be nice to him.

"It's good that you're back." You settle truthfully.

"Couldn't let you steal my thunder for too long." He playfully remarks, though it's obvious he doesn't mean it.

"Sure." You snort, having to busy yourself with opening your locker to hide how warm you feel.

Frank stands there for a second, still looking at you like he wants to say something but doesn't in the end. You pretend not to pay attention as the locker doesn't open when he clicks on the numbers, huffing in frustration once he looks over at the letter in his hands.

He kneels down to where is new locker now is, and you now feel bad for having a top shelf one as if you're superior to him.

Then you see it from the corner of your eyes, the way his face contorts with pain once he bends forward before quickly masking it away. It makes your stomach sink with realization, and you think about how he probably feels like it's mockery that suddenly his locker is at the bottom. A little reminder of the pain on his back that got him here.

The gears turn on your head as your next words come out impulsively, "Would you mind trading lockers with me?"

Langdon shoots you a confused look before you rush to explain.

"It's not that high up but i struggle to reach the back sometimes." You wave your hands towards your locker, hoping the excuse doesn't sound too made up.

Because if he were to inspect it, he'd realize it's a complete lie. Sure, you'd rather have a locker one row down but you can still reach just fine with little effort.

"Yeah, sure." He seems to take it, seemingly unaware of the true meaning behind.

His ears turn a little pink as he gets up, face slightly angled away and making you have to fight back a wince at the sight.

You pull the few things you keep in you locker out, transferring them into the new one as you trade codes.

"Sorry for the bother." You give him a small smile of appreciation, as if he's the one doing you a favour. You want him to think that, because the last thing you wish is for him to feel like you're pitying him.

"It was no bother." He murmurs as he pulls out some scrubs from his backpack before stuffing it inside the locker. His expression being free of pain brings relief to you.

A sense of protectiveness washes over you and you decide that if there's anything you can do to make this easier for him, you'll do it. Not because you think he needs coddling, but because that's a friend would do. At least that's what he seems to want to be.

You make way to the break room for your first coffee of the day, sipping on it a while later as Robby does a short debriefing before the shift starts. You watch as Frank's face falls at being told to take over triage, though you suppose it has some fairness to it — but you still throw him a sympathetic glance.

Your paths don’t cross much again until you’re midway through the morning, looking forward for a second coffee as you catch a small break.

And you’re surprised by his presence for the second time. Frank is sitting on one of the chairs of the break room, fingers playing with the bracelet in his wrist as he looks ahead.

“Oh, hey.” You greet, not wasting any time as you pull a cup and pour the brown liquid into it. “Want one?” You question politely once you realize he doesn’t have one.

His only answer is a nod, stance a little anxious. You don’t ask him about it, settling for making him the coffee the way you remember him liking before quietly placing it in front of him.

“Thanks.” His smile is tight.

You turn your back to leave, stopping on your tracks once he calls your name. “Do you have a second? Kinda wanted to talk to you about something.”

“Course.” You soften, pulling the chair beside him to sit. To be truthful, you’re not sure if you do have a minute but you’re praying no one interrupts it.

“I wanted to say that i’m sorry.” He starts, voice steady to make it clear he means it. “For a lot of things, really. Mostly for abandoning and disappointing you, none of it was your fault and i ended up just putting it out on you and making your time here a bit more miserable.”

Your heart tightens in your chest, and although you don’t agree with a lot of what he’s just said it’s still nice to know he’s acknowledging it. That he’s put thought into this and is trying to improve his communication.

“You didn’t abandon us. And you sure as hell didn’t disappoint me.” You retort with a reassuring look, even when you know he doesn’t believe it. “I was worried if anything.”

“I’m still sorry.” He clears his throat, sitting up straight in his seat. “I was addicted and made it everybody else’s problem. That’s not fair— even if our whole thing was being mean to each other.”

“You’re forgiven, then.” Your hands reaches to squeeze Frank’s, a small smile pulling at his lips.

“I kept like— meaning to text you.” The doctor cringes as the words come out, “Just didn’t know what to say. Felt weird.”

“It’s okay.” You chuckle.

But knowing that he had felt the same as you all these months brings relief to you.

“Missed you.” Frank breathes, vulnerable.

“Don’t go growing sweet on me, Langdon.” You huff, but the squeeze you give to his fingers tells him it’s okay.

You feel giddy once his cheeks turn slightly rosy at your words, a smile that shows teeth on his mouth. The roles would’ve been turned a few months ago, his flirty remarks thrown at you as you huffed in frustration when your skin grew as hot as a flame.

“You’re different.” You assert gazing at him.

“Good different?” He inquires softly, thumb tracing your knuckles timidly.

“Still under observation.” You shrug your shoulders, soft under the attention that he gives you.

You feel different around him now, more comfortable. Knowing him felt different before, all the ocasional intimate moments you shared with him didn’t come close to what this one feels like.

“So mean.” He gasps in false offense.

A laugh bubbles out of your throat, as gentle as you feel. You notice his eyes flicker to it but don’t think much of it.

The door opening has you pulling apart from his hand, as if being caught red handed. You’re not quite sure why you do it, because friends can hold hands.

Dana eyes you both with raised eyebrows before focusing on you without making any comment on it. “Mckay needs you on trauma 2.”

“Yeah, i’ll be right there.” You get up in a jump.

The nurse is out before you know it, already busing herself with something else.

The moment turns awkward and you avoid making it worse by heading towards the door with slight regret. Before your hand touches the handle, you turn back.

“You can still text me, you know? Just— about whatever if you need to.” Your suggestion is clear, hopeful look in your eyes.

“Yeah, i will.” He nods before picking up the coffee you made.

You leave the room feeling lighter, the weight on your shoulders finally off. Maybe it was meant to go this way. All you needed to start again was a little push.

The interaction has you feeling like a teenager, giddy and emotional. Your stomach tingling even more than used to when he’d brush his fingers against yours for more than needed.

Maybe different is good.

<𝟑 .ᐟ<𝟑 .ᐟ

The keyboard clicks under your fingers as you type fast, something you've gotten better at over the years of charting that piles up if you don't learn to be organized.

It's always a nice short moment to rest your legs before getting back to running back and forth, from patient to patient. So you've started looking at it as a relaxing period.

You roll your neck as it starts to feel a little stuck from being in the same position for long, tapping your finger victouriously against the table as you finish what feels like enough for now.

"Think fast." Langdon appears on your right, throwing you a packet that you manage to catch successfully.

It becomes familiar once you turn it, your favourite chocolate. And maybe it was a hunch because you don't remember ever mentioning it to him.

"Thank you." You shoot him a grateful look, it has been a few hours since you last ate. "I'll pay you back later."

"Don't worry about it." He brushes your idea off, standing in front of the big screen to take a look at the patient list. "Choose your next patient yet?"

"Nope." You manage through a mouthful.

"There's a guy who thinks he got bitten by an exotic spider, has it in a jar and everything." He brings up before suggesting, "That could be cool. You should check it out."

You find yourself unable to hold back the amused glance you throw him. "I might."

The doctor's answer is a hum, hands behind his head as he stretches. You pretend not to pay attention to the skin that peaks from under his scrubs shirt.

With a sigh, Langdon bends on one knee to tie the laces of his snickers that seem to be undone.

You're about to reach for an ipad when you hear him groan, caught midway through getting back up for a second. It's obvious that the sound comes out without his permission, teeth coming to bite on his lower lip.

"Fuck." He curses, hand pressing against his lower back and neck red from either embarrassment or pain.

You rush to get up from your chair, thorn between doctor and friend mode. "Langdon," Your call is careful as you approach him with worried eyes.

"M'fine." He mumbles, not looking you in the eye. An immediate lie that you can see is reflexive.

"I didn't even ask if you were." Your words are soft, somehow proving a point. You watch him exhale, eyes shutting for a second longer from what you think is probably his ache flaring.

"Just got up too fast, don't worry about it." He brushes it off, still his teeth are gritted.

You touch his arm with your hand, "Are you in pain? You can sit for a bit, i'll cover--"

"I don't need help." Frank interrupts sharply and fast, taking a step back so your hands falls.

You chuckle nervously, "I didn't say you do."

The tension builds in your chest as he starts to build a wall between the two of you, refusing to let you see any vulnerability that comes from prickling on his back. You try not to let it get to you, maybe he's not ready to acknowledge it yet and would react like this with anyone else.

But are you anyone?

"You insinuated it." He crosses his arms with a huff, blue eyes set on anything but you.

You fight back a scoff, about to say something when he steps in again.

"Look, just don't tell anyone about this." It's almost a beg, though the way he looks towards you makes you sure he's mad at you.

Now you just feel frustrated, because you don't think you've given him reason to think you go around telling things about him. Or that he can't trust you. The frown on your face probably tells him exactly how hurt you feel, because he steps away again before you get a chance to speak.

"Gotta go check on a patient." He shoves his hands in his pockets awkwardly before practically running from you.

You watch him walk away until he's out of your sight, aware of how stupid you look standing there like you were stood up on a date.

"Trouble in paradise?" Dana questions with a sly grin when you finally go back to your chair.

"Dunno how this ER is ever a paradise." You ignore what she's so obviously hinting at, doing your best to look like it's not affecting you.

"Is there something i should know about,?" She asks more seriously now, tucking her glasses on the collar of her scrubs.

"There's no something." You huff, unaware of the scrunch of your eyebrows.

"Right." She snorts sarcastically. "You seemed to be at his throat a few months ago. And now you're actually nice to him. So there is something, honey."

"I just know when to stop, he doesn't need that right now." You refer to the dynamic you had before. Though you can feel it building back up after the last interaction.

"He sure as hell still looks at you like the sun shines out your ass." The nurse's smile is teasing as she says, but her look tells you she's being honest.

"He doesn't" You wish he did. "Besides, he used to hate me too." You prompt.

"Cause it was the only way you'd pay him attention." She retorts with raised eyebrows before adding, "That boy is head over heels for you."

You remember how your first impression wasn't the best, the way he immediately eyes you up and down and acted confident, way too confident. As if you had no option but to already be charmed by him.

Yet you barely spared him a glance, even when he looked taken aback. And from then on the bickering started. You pretended to hate him, he did too. That was the easiest way through the path you didn't want to go into in the first place.

You catch yourself almost believing Dana's words, having to shake yourself out of it when you notice her knowing stare.

"I need to stop listening to you." You declare, getting up from your chair with the intention of distracting yourself with a patient.

"Kids these days." Is the last thing you hear her mumble.

<𝟑 .ᐟ<𝟑 .ᐟ

You make it your task to not be gloomy over one interaction for the rest of the day. Try to distract yourself with seeing as many patients you can, consequentely not having to see Frank again without having to look like you're avoiding him.

This not to mean that you're angry at him, you just have no idea how to act after that. Maybe tomorrow you can come back and pretend that it didn't happen, exactly like he wants.

So you get through your shift just as if it's just another one without him — like the many others in the past few months.

By the time it’s over you’re grouchy, bag thrown messily over your shoulder and earphones on as you make your way outside. The bus station is the last place you want to be right now and you feel like you might just take the long walk home.

The timing feels perfect, the 4th of july fireworks erupting through the sky when you’re making your way through the parking lot. It has you stopping for a moment, eyes looking up at the sparkling.

Hands stuffed on your jean’s pockets, you feel a little relieved at the fresh air hitting the back of your neck over the humid weather. A sigh leaves your nose, shoulders slumping as the tension of work leaves your body.

A hand touching your arm has you jumping, finding Langdon staring at you with an apologetic but tempting smile.

“Didn’t mean to scare you.” He’s now beside you on the sidewalk, back on his casual clothes.

“It’s fine.” You shrug, turning your attention back to the fireworks.

The silence between you goes slightly unnoticed by them, but becomes evident once the noise starts dying down.

“Heard about your closed cervical reduction.” You prompt, chewing slightly on the inside of your cheek in a nervous antic.

“Yeah.” He perks up, excitement in his voice. “I think i’m still shaking.” His hand lifts in the air, you try not think too much about how attracted you are to it.

“That must have been pretty cool.” You reply, a little regretful of not having been there to witness.

“Didn’t know i still had it in me.” Frank admits, self doubt all over the frown on his eyebrows.

“Of course you do.” You retort immediately, like it’s obvious. Because it is.

His whole expression softens at your words, big blue eyes staring right into yours and you think of how much he looks like a kicked puppy right now. It makes you want to smile.

“I’m sorry for snapping at you earlier.” His apology is genuine. And he looks regretful for having to do it for the second time today.

Your reflex is to want to say that ‘it’s fine’. But you don’t. Because it actually feels good to know that he is sorry. So you nod slowly, accepting but not leaving space for anything else.

“It’s still a little bit of a— sore subject? My back.” Langdon tries, grimacing at the way his words come out. “I’m working on it, i promise.”

You let your lips pull into a sympathetic smile, “I understand. Didn’t mean to make it seem like you’re weak or in need of help.”

“You didn’t.” He asserts with a shake of his head. “It was hurting. It hurts even more today because of how long i haven’t worked for.”

Your shoulders brush and you feel a shiver on your arms, even over how warm it feels. “Is there anything i can do to help?”

“Are you by any chance a good massager?” The doctor jokes with a teasing smile.

But you take it in consideration, fingers moving before you get to rethink your actions.

His eyes widen once he realizes what you’re doing. “I was just joking, you don’t—”

“I can do it.” You interrupt.

Your hand reaches for his lower back, moving closer as you press your fingers into the muscles there to try to bring some tension down. You use your thumb to make slow circles on the muscles on either side of his spine, pleased when he lets out a sigh.

“You forget i’m a pretty good doctor too.” You play, voice lower.

“You are.” He hums, a little distracted by the touch of your fingers even if over his shirt.

The realization of the intimate moments has your heart pounding against your ribcage, almost jumping out of your throat in the process. You’re glad he can’t feel how hot your skin right now.

“Does that help?”

“Yeah.” Frank breathes, air puffing out of his lips slowly — you can’t help but look at the way his throat looks good as it does, not even when he adverts his eyes back to yours.

You wish you had the courage to slip your fingers inside his shirt and feel his skin that radiates with warmth over the shirt.

With sudden embarrassment you pull away, breathing in a little too hard as you try to make yourself look composed. But the man next to you seems just as flustered, hand running through his hair like it became messy for no specific reason.

“Hey.” He calls after another moment. “Wanna go out for dinner?” It comes off casually, his lips pressed together in a line of an awkward smile.

You chuckle in surprise, “As celebration for your successful return?”

Something flickers in his eyes, “Sure.”

As much as you want to, it could get too late really quickly and you don’t have the will to walk all the way home late at night. “I’d love to, but i’ll have no way to get home after.”

“I can drop you off.” He says simply.

“Are you sure?” You ask with uncertainty, feeling a little like a bother.

The look Langdon throws you tells you he’s offended you’re even asking, eyebrows raised because the answer is obvious. “Never been more.”

“Okay.” Your words are sheepishly, “Thanks.”

“C’mon.” He motions with his head towards the street, arm reaching out for a moment like he’s going to wrap it around your shoulders before he drops it back on his side.

You end up getting take away, finding an empty bench on the park and making yourself as comfortable as possible with boxes scattered all around.

The hum that leaves your throat is honest as you have your first bite, stomach finally happy after not having a real meal for hours.

“I don’t know how you like those.” Frank grimaces as you stuff a french fry inside your mouth.

“They’re perfect.” You shrug with indifference, more interested in the food in front of you.

“They’re soggy.” He points with a bite of his own burger, sauce on the corner of his lips in an adorable way.

“More for me.” You retort happily.

Langdon can’t help but it set his eyes on you for longer than needed, taking in your tired expression and wrinkly clothes. Your untied shoes and the way you curl into yourself, eyelids closing and opening slowly. He could look at you like this forever, vulnerable and sweet.

“What?” You frown as you notice his staring, napkin coming up to your mouth in attempt to clean the reason of it.

“Nothing.” He shakes his head with a small smile. “‘S just weird. Us not arguing all the time.”

You cock your head to the side in confusion, “I guess.”

What you don’t know is that he’s scared you liked him better before. Because what you said about him being different is true and your words have stuck on his brain like a vine. He’s just hoping you mean it in a good way.

“Do you miss it?” The vulnerable question comes out before he gets to stop it, voice small.

“Miss what?” You ask after a sip of soda, still unaware of his distress.

“Our bickering.”

You pretend to think for a moment. “A little.” You answer teasingly, smirk on the corner of your lips.

Frank’s stomach drops just a little, “Wow. So rude.” He tries to joke back, but the way his chuckle comes out force has you looking at him.

“Frank.” You bump your shoulder with his as reassurance, “I like different.” I like this version of you. Although you don’t say it.

He takes it, relaxed at your words.

Conversation flows easily between you, and he feels like an absolute idiot for taking so long to finally get to know you and what you like. He’s wasted too much time. So he listens to you talking your mouth off about a movie you watched a week ago, paying attention like it’s the most important thing you’ve ever told him.

You talk about whatever comes to mind, work swirling into the conversation as you talk about your first day at work.

“I don’t even know why you hated me so much!” He quips in as you go on about how meeting everyone was.

“To be fair, you came off as quite cocky. Y’know, with your whole—” You gesture with your hands. “Perfect tidy hair and bluest eyes ever thing.”

Your defence has him grinning widely. "You think my hair is perfect?"

And the worse is that you truly do, eyes catching the strand that falls across his forehead in the most perfect pattern. You’d be stupid to say he’s not beautiful as hell. You’re sure a lot of girls think the same, it has brought a certain green eyed monster way too many times.

“Jerk.” You huff, not denying.

“I was trying to impress you, by the way.” He adds as if it’s an obvious thing.

“Right.” You snort in disbelief.

“What?” Langdon inquires, raised eyebrows. “You’re pretty.”

You’re hot at the compliment, food discarded as you clean your hands with a napkin just to have something to do other than looking embarrassed.

His fingers come to grab at yours, pulling your attention back to him and making it impossible to avoid his words. “Honest.” They squeeze your skin.

You can almost hear your heart as his eyes trace every inch of your face, stopping for an extra second once they land on your lips. The urge to lean in is stronger than you, only until you almost get to feel his breath against your skin.

Frank angles his body towards yours back, hand dropping from yours to rest on your knee. His thumb brushes over your jeans, tentatively eyeing you as to make sure you’re okay with whatever is happening. You don’t seem to hate it at all, your own eyes glued to his lips.

He clears his throat gently, “I want to do this right, i promise. I’m not screwing up this time. And i-“

“Frank.” You stop him.

“Yeah?” He’s almost waiting for your rejection.

“Shut up.” You mumble, holding back a smile at the way his eyes look a little glassier when he’s up close.

“Okay.” He nods vigorously, letting you take charge as you pull him into a kiss.

Fingers immediately reach into his hair, leaving it messy as you run them through it like you’ve always dreamed about doing. He hums at the gesture, free hand coming to rest against your ribs.

You’re sure he can probably feel your heart beating wildly against them, moving closer on the bench so his hand slips down to the slot of your waist more comfortably.

The soft squeeze he leaves there has you melting against him, fingers wondering down to his bicep and squeezing it in retribution. His muscles flex under your touch, pulling you flush against him with gentleness. His nose presses to yours with a sigh, intoxicating taste invading your mouth and having you never want to kiss anyone else again.

He’s the one to pull away after a few minutes, pressing a wet kiss to your cheek for good measure and keeping you close even without his mouth on yours.

“Everyone’s betting on this at work.” You sigh at his mouth against your jaw. “We should pretend to hate each other and make them all lose.”

“They’re all betting on us getting together?” He asks unfocused.

“Yeah.” Before adding with a tease, “Wonder where they got that idea from.”

He hums with a pinch on the softness by your hip, “Don’t think i’m gonna be able to pretend i don’t wanna kiss you all the time.”

You could be okay with that. You think as he pulls you into a warm hug, pressing one last long kiss to the top of your head.