REGAN♕

you sat cross-legged on the couch, sunlight spilling through the windows and filling the apartment with a soft golden glow. though you hadn't turned a page in several minutes, a book was on your lap. every so often, your gaze drifted toward the front door before returning to the same line you'd been trying to read.

the afternoon seemed to drag on endlessly. you absentmindedly tapped your fingers against the book's cover, listening to the distant sounds of the city outside. dex had said he'd be back later, and while you weren't exactly worried, you couldn't deny the small spark of anticipation that settled in your chest whenever you imagined hearing the door open and seeing him walk inside.

the sound of a key turning in the lock immediately pulled your attention away from the book. before the door had even fully opened, you were already setting it aside and getting to your feet. a moment later, dex stepped inside, shrugging off his jacket as he closed the door behind him. his eyes found yours almost instantly, and something in his expression softened.

"finally," you muttered, unable to hide your smile.

you crossed the room in a few quick steps and wrapped your arms around him. for a second he seemed caught off guard, but then his arms slid around your waist, pulling you closer against him. the familiar warmth of him made the apartment feel complete again.

dex rested his chin lightly on top of your head and let out a quiet breath. "I missed you," he said, his voice lower than usual.

a smile tugged at your lips as you held onto him. "you were only gone a few hours."

"still," he replied, giving you a small squeeze. "missed you anyway." for a rare moment, he didn't seem eager to let go, content to stand there with you in the middle of the apartment as the afternoon sunlight streamed through the windows.

as you pulled back slightly, your smile faded. now that you were looking at him properly, he didn't seem quite as put together as he usually did. there was a faint stain on the sleeve of his jacket, dark against the fabric, and a small scrape near his knuckles that definitely hadn't been there earlier. his hair was a little messier than usual.

your brows furrowed. "dex?"

"hmm?" he looked down at you.

"what happened?" your eyes flicked to the mark on his sleeve. "are you hurt?"

for a moment, his expression became unreadable. then he glanced away and shrugged out of his jacket as if it were nothing. "forget about it."

"dex-"

"I'm fine," he interrupted calmly, setting the jacket aside. when he looked back at you, his face had already smoothed into something reassuring. "don't worry about it." he reached out and brushed a hand against your arm, gently steering your attention away from the subject.

you studied him for a long second, not fully convinced - but dex always had that effect. the way he could look at you like everything was okay, even when it clearly wasn’t. still, you didn’t push. instead, without warning, you rose onto your toes and kissed him.

it started soft - just your lips meeting his. but the second he responded with a quiet hum in his throat and his hands slid to your hips, it deepened fast. his mouth moved against yours with careful pressure at first.

then one hand crept up to cradle the back of your neck and suddenly he was kissing deeper: warm breath mingling between open mouths; teeth catching lightly on lower lips before soothing again with slow licks.

your fingers twisted into the fabric of his tight shirt - still tucked neatly under his belt and tugged, pulling him closer like you couldn’t stand even an inch of space between you. dex made another soft sound against your mouth and this time gave in completely.

dex’s lips finally left yours when he felt your hands playing with his shirt. he broke the kiss just enough to tilt his head back slightly, giving you room, his chest rising fast beneath the bloody fabric.

you worked quickly, fingers unsteady but determined. you pulled it over his head, letting it fall behind him onto the floor.

the sunlight caught every ridge of muscle across his torso - broad shoulders tapering down into a chest covered in scars. you noticed that thin trail of hair leading downward under his waistband - but what stood out most were his abs.

perfectly defined - a six-pack, hard lines forming each defined rectangle; deep grooves between them where shadows pooled from angled light; all leading naturally to that strong V-shape at hips disappearing into pants still zipped tightly around narrow waist.

without thinking twice, your palms flattened against him immediately - fingers splaying wide over warm skin as they traced upward along sculpted muscle.

his hands slid up your back beneath the loose cotton sweater you’d thrown on earlier, palms warm through the thin material. when they found bare skin at your waist, a shiver ran through both of you. he noticed you weren't wearing anything underneath.

"were you waitin' for me, baby?" he let out a breathy chuckle against your lips. another messy kiss - less controlled, more urgent. lips parted wider; breaths came faster.

your hands roamed over his bare chest - thumbs brushing the hard lines of his abs, feeling how firm and warm they were under your touch. you leaned in again, but this time didn’t go for his mouth. instead, your lips found the side of dex’s neck - softly plantinh a light kiss just below his jawline, slow trail down along the column of his throat where you could feel him swallow hard as your breath ghosted over sensitive skin there. dex tensed slightly - not from discomfort but intensity. he wasn't used to being kissed like this.

his ears burned red before anything else even happened - the tips turning pink fast as nervous energy buzzed through him despite how much he was enjoying it. he stayed very still otherwise, barely breathing too loud, just letting you explore while fingers curled slightly against your arms.

your lips kept descending - lower, lower - until they reached the top of dex’s chest. you kissed him there, right over his collarbone first, slow and lingering, then along the slope where shoulder met pec.

each kiss was soft but deliberate - a warm press of your mouth that left behind a faint flush on his skin. dex exhaled shakily as more kisses rained down. when you finally reached his nipples, he actually flinched and sucked in a quiet breath through clenched teeth.

they were small and flat normally under fabric, but now exposed to air - each one tightened instantly into hard little peaks at attention. you didn’t hesitate; gently circling one with your tongue before pressing an open-mouthed kiss right over it - testing how he’d react.

dex's hands shot up almost unconsciously. fingers tangling lightly in your hair like he couldn't decide whether to pull you closer or push away because this felt too much all at once. "careful, sweetheart" he warned.

before things went any further, your hands roamed back up dex’s torso - this time with purpose. you cupped his chest firmly, thumbs brushing over the tight muscle there. his chest was broad, lean and bulky.

and then you squeezed again not rough but definite, palms pressing into warm skin like you were memorizing the shape of him. dex exhaled sharply through his nose; low groan leaving his lips before he could stop it.

his nipples stayed peaked from earlier attention and now as your fingers drifted closer to them, they stiffened even more. he bit lightly on bottom lip to keep quiet, trying not move too much or react obviously but failing slightly because damn he felt good.

you leaned down and pressed another kiss right over his heart - then looked up at him through your lashes, a small smile playing on your lips.

"you're so hot," you murmured, voice low and sincere.

dex blinked. for someone who usually kept his emotions locked tight, this kind of direct affection undid him every time. he didn’t know how to respond with words - so instead, the corners of his mouth twitched into something flustered but undeniably pleased.

"shut up," without thinking, dex tilted forward suddenly - closing distance fast. dex’s lips crashed into yours, sudden, hungry, and messy with emotion. no grace or technique this time; just raw need. his hands flew up to cradle your face as he kissed you hard - mouth warm and slightly desperate like he’d been holding back all afternoon.

his thumbs brushed your cheekbones while the kiss deepened: tongues meeting again almost instantly; teeth clashing once before adjusting angles to fit better.

then you continued trailing kisses back down dex’s chest, slow, worshipful, each one softer than the last. over his sternum, across abs, lower as your eyes flicked up to meet his as you hovered near the waistband of his pants.

dex stared down at you - dark eyes wide and unblinking. lips slightly parted; chest rising fast under your gaze. no teasing smirk or cool remark this time, just pure anticipation burning in that quiet intensity he always carried.

then without breaking eye contact, you slowly sank to your knees on the floor. you hooked your fingers into the waistband of dex’s trousers and so slowly pushed them down.

fabric slid over his hips, then thighs - revealing more of that toned body beneath: lean legs covered in faint hair, strong calves. everything perfectly proportioned.

now he was just in boxers, a simple black pair hugging narrow waist and you could see everything: how defined and hard he was; how every muscle moved when he breathed.

you slowly tugged the fabric down as the boxers slipped past his thighs - now dex was fully exposed. sunlight spilled over him, painting golden streaks across pale skin. he didn’t flinch or cover himself - just stood there, completely bare from the waist down now, breathing a little faster than normal.

the moment your lips made contact to his tip, dex’s fingers immediately tangled rough and firm as he needed something to hold onto as the sensation overwhelmed him completely. his breath came out in a shaky exhale above you; head tilting back slightly without realizing it while his hips gave the tiniest involuntary twitch forward.

"fuck" he cursed. you looked up at him with eyes filled with lust as dex stared down at you hypnotized.

you took him deeper then, warm mouth working carefully and that’s when his grip tightened just a little: not pushing or forcing yet, just holding, knuckles whitening where they curled against strands of your hair.

every slow suck drew another response from him: shallow breaths turning uneven; thighs tensing under smooth skin; pulse hammering wildly at temples and wrists both.

you kept going - mouth warm and wet around him, lips sliding with careful pressure. each movement was deliberate: soft suction pulling gently, tongue swirling just right in ways that made dex’s knees actually tremble for a second. you took your time, just savoring the taste of him.

you adjusted your rhythm - sucking a little deeper this time, then slowing to tease with just the tip of your tongue tracing along sensitive skin. dex’s whole body tensed. his thighs locked. his stomach muscles tightened like he was bracing for impact.

dex’s control snapped. his hands tightened in your hair, he gently guided your head forward. dex’s breath left him all at once like someone punched air from lungs. eyes fluttered shut for a second; back arched faintly without meaning to, hips forward.

"please don't stop." he whispered.

the next push was firmer, more deliberate. you didn’t resist - just adjusted, letting him guide while keeping pace. dex was taking deep breaths through parted lips above you; eyes shut tight; expression completely unraveled into pure pleasure.

"fuck, sweetheart"

his breathing turned ragged - short, quick inhales through his nose between clenched teeth. every muscle in dex’s body tensed: stomach tight; shoulders rigid; thighs trembling slightly where he stood on the floor.

he was close. so close it bordered on painful. each harsh rock of his hips became more urgent without meaning to be. rough and desperate, every instinct was screaming at him to chase this feeling harder.

dex’s head fell back slightly, eyes squeezing shut. his hips jerked forward, a choked sound escaped him - low, broken, his whole body tensing like a bowstring about to snap. eyes squeezed shut; mouth slightly open as the wave hit.

warmth flooded through him. the air was thick with quiet, heavy breathing as dex slowly came down - dazed, boneless, his chest rising and falling.

You stayed where you were on your knees in front of him, gently kissing the soft skin just above his hipbone as you took all of what remained from him into your mouth without hesitation. you swallowed without breaking eye contact.

you rose to your feet in one smooth motion, still warm from everything that just happened. before dex could even catch his breath fully, you grabbed the front of his shirt and pulled him down into a hard kiss.

your lips were firm against his; demanding and possessive as you backed him gently toward the couch without breaking contact. one hand stayed fisted on his bicep while the other slid up to cup his jaw, tilting it so you could deepen the kiss further. tongues tangled messily, sloppy with passion.

dex felt it the shift in your body heat as you straddled him. the way you pressed down against his bare thighs with unmistakable need. his breath hitched mid-kiss. his hands flew to your hips now, big palms spanning nearly all of them and he gripped tight as you grinded.

a low groan rumbled from his chest into the kiss; one hand slid up under fabric while his hips jerked upward slightly to meet yours better - helping create friction where you needed it most.

dex didn’t hesitate. in one smooth motion, his hands slid down to your waist - fingers hooking under the edge of your panties and pushed them aside just enough.

then he lifted you slightly, helping guide you into position as you settled over him again, this time with no layers of clothes left. both of you gasped.

"oh my god," your head and eyes rolled backwards, your body arching into him. a quiet moan slipped from him, eyes fluttering shut at sensation, arms tightening around your back.

you started moving fast - no gentle rocking. no slow rhythm. just desperately riding him hard: hips lifting and dropping with purpose, each motion sharp and deliberate as you chased your own pleasure.

"yeah, use me, pretty girl, "dex’s head fell back against the couch instantly, "fuck- just like that" eyes wide for a split second before squeezing shut again from sheer overstimulation.

his hands locked onto your waist with firm grip and helped lifting you up and down. meeting every downward grind with an upward thrust of his hips, matching your pace despite how much sensation was flooding through him.

a quiet string of shaky breaths left his lips between clenched teeth; jaw tight from focusing on keeping up. the couch creaked faintly under your movements.

each time you came down, dex’s breath hitched audibly; each rise had him gripping tighter like he needed to feel you there, real and close. his abs flexed with every upward push of hips to meet yours.

"can't last any longer, sweetheart" the way his body responded betrayed him, pulse racing. pupils blown wide, staring at your tits going up and down aggressively.

"dex, dex, dex, fuuuck, I'm close"you could feel it building. tight coil of pleasure winding higher and higher with every movement. without warning your body tensed, eyes fluttering shut, hips stuttering for half a second before your walls fluttered around him.

wave crashed over you hard, pleasure so intense it almost hurt but in the best way possible. your muscles locked; fingers dug into dex’s shoulders as everything focused on that single point of overwhelming sensation.

dex felt his own control snap again too, even after cumming once already, the rhythm and heat from your climax pushed him right to edge. and a few seconds later he was falling apart beneath you: back arching slightly off couch as release hit him fast and fierce despite exhaustion creeping in at edges.

dex came with a quiet, shuddering breath, just a deep exhale as his body went completely pliant beneath you. warmth spread between you both, intimate and close as he stayed buried inside for those long, lazy seconds after, not pulling away.

your arms wrapped around his shoulders; face nuzzling into the crook of his neck where skin was warm and sweaty. his cock slowly softened inside you as he pressed soft kisses along your shoulder.

you leaned in and kissed him, soft and slow this time. lips met gently; a quiet press of warmth that lingered before pulling back slightly then doing it again like you couldn’t stop kissing him.

his hand moved slowly along your side as he pressed a kiss to the top of your head. “you’re too good to me, y’know that?” he murmured. his grip tightened slightly, protective and warm. “don’t know how I got so lucky.”

you smiled against him, and he let out a quiet laugh before resting his cheek on your hair. “seriously,” he said softly, his voice gentler than usual. he pulled you even closer, content just to sit there with you in his arms.

park the shark who willingly took you to his place that night, something that he doesn’t do very often. and even if he did, he would usually go back to her place, not that he’d ever tell you. 

“i hate you,” you glared at the man between your legs. 

“i can live with that,” placing his hands on the back of your thighs, “up,” he commanded, and you obeyed. 

lifting you up, you felt your back hit his door and before you could complain, park placed his mouth over yours. wrapping your arms around his neck, you pulled him closer.

“so needy,” he smirked against your mouth, at his mouth you grasped his hair and pulled. park responded by pushing you closer to the door, his cock beginning to grind into your stomach. “feel that, princess? hope you can take it.” 

park the shark who matched your freak. wasn’t judgemental with what you wanted to do in the bedroom. 

“you wanna bite me?” he grinned, flashing his canines. “i thought i was the shark.” 

you made a face, “why would you say that to me? i’m like, dry now.” 

scoffing, his hands drifted down to your damp panties. “sure, princess,” grinding his thumb against your clit, park watched intently at the way you threw your head back, your breathing becoming laboured. “look at that.” 

“brendon,” you gasped, feeling his teeth sink into the meat of your shoulder, dragging your nails down his back, you could hear his grunt against you, the jerk of his hips. 

removing himself away from you, brendon licked the bite languidly, a contrast to the erraticness of his hips. “look at you,” he purred, as he took in the multiple marks he’s left across your skin. “beautiful.” 

you looked up at him and the meat between his neck and shoulder was practically tantalising. sensing where your attention was, park grinned to himself and lowered his shoulder. “come on, baby.”

“i’m not going to fucking break, bite me,” still a bit hesitant, you moved your mouth back to his traps, sinking your teeth slowly, you could feel brendon squeezing your hips. “that’s a girl,” encouraged.  

park the shark who started to treat you slightly better at work. he wasn’t goading you like before, but he was more or less ignoring your entire existence. 

“you get in my pants and then you practically ghost me when we’re at work?” you slammed his locker, refusing to back down when he glared at you. 

“i didn’t realise i had to converse with you every time i saw you,” he sneered. “did you want flowers as well?” 

“no,” you sputtered. “of course not. but i want you talk to me like i’m actually there.”

park sighed, “we didn’t talk before.” 

“because i thought you hated me,” when he opened his mouth, you quickly interrupted, “i know that you don’t hate me.” 

“i don’t understand why i have to talk to you outside of when i go downstairs.”  

“it’s courtesy,” your tone was bordering on whinging you and you quickly reeled yourself back. 

“what’s courtesy, princess, is me leaving hickeys where people can’t see it,” his eyes quickly flashed to your breasts, and you frowned, crossing your arms. 

“don’t be gross.” 

“i usually don’t talk to people i fuck,” sighing, he turned back to his locker. 

“fine,” you pouted, too tired to argue, and not that you’d ever admit it, a bit hurt at his statement. “i’ll see you when we both fuck next i guess,” turning to leave, you heard make a noise before grabbing your arm. 

“don’t be dramatic,” he bit out, annoyed at the whole situation. “i don’t know what to talk to you about when we’re at work.” 

“the weather? the shitty but overpriced cafeteria food? the gossip?” you listed off. “it just makes me feel used, park. like i’m good enough for you to fuck but not good enough for you to talk to.” 

park frowned at your statement. “i didn’t mean it like that. i thought that you would prefer for me to not talk to you.” 

you couldn’t help but laugh at the miscommunication. “i like talking to you.” 

park shifted, as if your words impacted him in a way he couldn’t decipher, “i like talking to you too.” 

“don’t ignore me again, i swear to god, otherwise i’ll ban you from sex,” you pointed your finger at him. 

he rolled his eyes and then looked around, “this is like your shitty grey’s anatomy.”

you rolled your eyes, “you like my shitty grey’s anatomy.” 

“if you ever,” he threatened, a playfully mean look on his face. holding up your hands in surrender, he opened back up his locker. “what are we having tonight?” 

you sat down on the bench and watched him, “i want pho,” you watched in appreciation as brendon began changing into his normal clothes. he was always so big but his movements weren’t clunky or awkward, it was always so sure. 

tossing his hoodie wordlessly behind him, you barely caught it. “you’re going to get cold,” he stated and you mumbled under your breath. 

“do you want to eat in? cause if so, we have to head home and shower,” he mumbled into his locker, grabbing the last of his things. he closed it and turned to you, a small smile gracing his face before it quickly dropped. 

“take away?” you suggested. “i’m kinda beat,” you shrugged then stood up. 

“you good?” 

“tired,” before you could lift your bag to your shoulder, park grabbed it and held it for you. murmuring a ‘thanks’, you moved closer to him. “i just really want to eat pho and watch shitty grey’s anatomy.” 

“you’re lucky i have netflix.” 

“i have all the dvds, that won’t stop me.” 

brendon park who slowly became your friend in public since that talk. he’s actually nice. he’s considerate (in and out of the bedroom), stubborn but loyal, remembers the smallest things you talk to him about and he’s sweet. 

brendon park who knows how to deal with you when you’re being particularly bratty. 

you weren’t seething out of jealousy, no of course not. you were just being logical. because if park was fucking other people, you needed to know because of health reasons, obviously. 

you didn’t know her, she was stationed upstairs with him. but she was really pretty. soft, blonde hair, a smile that unfortunately made you fall in love. she was a stunner and you’re not an idiot, brendon probably thought she was pretty too. 

his demeanor was calmer than usual. it seemed like he actually wanted to listen to what she was saying, that he wanted to be in her company. 

looking up, park nodded at you in acknowledgement (which you promptly ignored) before finishing his conversation and heading over to you. 

“you ready?” 

giving him a terse nod, you kept eye contact with the woman from before. “who is she?” you jerked your head towards her. 

“one of the or nurses,” he replied. 

you hummed and tore your eyes away from her, instead looking at park. you eyed him up and down, disdain clearly on your face. 

“what’s wrong with you?” 

“nothing,” you said. “i’m heading home.” 

“i’m going to ask you again. what’s wrong with you?” 

“nothing,” you said slower this time. “i’m going home.” 

“i thought we had plans,” he said, starting to get irritated at your avoidance. 

before you could reply, the nurse from before came back. her blonde her swishing as she walked, her hips swaying a little bit too much, and a sultry smile on her face as she came up to the two of you. “night doctor park,” she grinned at him, not bothering to pay attention to you. 

scoffing you mocked her under your breath, something that park didn’t miss. “you jealous, pup?” 

“if you’re fucking her, i need to know, i’m not risking an std because you want to the fuck the entire hospital,” you snarked, tamping down the green eyed monster. you had no right to feel jealous. you were just fucking. 

“i’m not robinavitch,” he spat out, as if he was offended at the thought of being with other people. at robby’s mention you frowned and you felt like he hit you in the heart. “i don’t treat the hospital like my own dating show.” 

“doesn’t seem like it,” you snapped. 

“fucking christ,” park exhaled deeply, and you could practically see him counting to five slowly in his head. “we’re going to my place tonight.” 

-

“how the fuck do you think i have time between work and you to find time to chase some other woman,” you groaned as he punctuated his statement with a particularly mean thrust. 

“brendon,” you could feel your drool pool beneath you, no doubt seeping into his mattress. clasping the fabric beneath you tightly, you were too fucked out to do anything else. 

“come on, pup,” twisting his hand into your hair, brendon yanked your head next to his face. “you were so talkative before.” 

gasping his name again, he slowly moved his hand to your throat, the other sneaking around  to your stomach. “if you ever think that i’d go around your back,” he tightened his grip around your neck, hips snapping. “you think i want some fucking nobody, huh?” 

“say who’s fucking me right now,” he growled into your ear, and when you didn’t respond quickly enough for his liking, he gave another rough jerk of his hips. 

“me,” you sputtered out, your hands grasping his forearms, nails digging into the flesh. 

“fuck, that’s right,” peppering kisses down your sweaty neck, the hand on your stomach moved further down, fingers latching onto your clit. “you think i fuck just anyone raw? that i just cum inside of any woman, huh?” 

you shook your head, one arm going behind his neck, pulling him down to your mouth. needing him closer than you already were. you let him take control, taking whatever he wanted, you just needed him. 

“come on, pup,” he goaded you, his hips no longer having a rhythm, as his fingers pressed harder, the circles against your clit becoming tighter. “cum on my cock.” 

white hot orgasm rushed through your body, you would have fallen if not for brendon holding you. gasping into his mouth, you chanted his name against his lips. 

spilling inside of you, he panted on your back, holding your body tight to his. softly moving you down, you melted into the bed. you never wanted to move, or think about anything ever again. you were content. 

brendon hissed as he slipped out of you, his cum slowly dripping onto his sheet. moving to his bathroom, he came out with a warm and damp towel. slowly and gently cleaning you, he tossed the rag to his hamper and began slowly kissing up your neck. 

“come on,” you could feel brendon lift you up and you whined in protest. “i’m not having you get a uti, you of all people should know how important this is.” 

lifting you on the toilet, you didn’t want to acknowledge just how intimate this was. so, instead, you looked at him impatiently. 

“what?” 

“get out,” you whinged as you watched him stand next to his sink. “i’m not gonna fake pee!” you exclaimed. 

brendon eyed you before nodding and leaving to go back to his bed. 

walking out of his bathroom slowly, you were practically ambushed, “jesus, brendon.” without another word he lifted you up and carried you to bed. “i have legs, you know.” 

“i know, but i also know that you can’t walk right now,” he grinned devilishly at you, and you couldn’t help but gather the little strength you had left, and smacked his chest. 

brendon park who brought you a coffee (one from an actual cafe) and a pastry to the pitt because you said you missed breakfast and you were hungry. who gave every single person a glare as they looked at him in shock as he hunted you down and gave you the food. 

“park?” you furrowed your brow, wondering if came down for a consult, but you can’t recall anyone calling for ortho in the pitt. 

“pup,” he greeted, then practically shoved the contents in your hand. “eat,” he could practically see the question mark forming on the top of your head and rolled his eyes. “you haven’t eaten since you left my house. eat.” 

“brendon,” you said softly, looking around the er. “I’m okay.” 

“do i have to feed this to you?” when you didn’t reply, he wordlessly took the pastry back and opened it up, holding it to your face. 

“park!” you chided, but nonetheless taking a small bite, very aware of the stares being thrown your way. 

javadi looked around, wide-eyed, trying to see if anyone else was watching the scene unfold in front of her. finally seeing whittaker and santos across the room. gesturing with her head to where the two of you stood, she made a face. 

“what the?” whittaker wondered out loud. “when did park and her become friends?” 

-

“shark bait,” santos practically purred as she rounded the corner. “i always thought it’d be robby that you’d be fucking.” 

rolling your eyes, you decided you were far too tired to entertain her antics at the moment. walking away, trinity followed you eagerly, her hands on her stethoscope, “so, is he mean in bed?” not answering her, you continued down the hallway. 

“garcia tells me that he talks about you sometimes,” that caused you to pause your steps. smiling, trinity skipped to you, “talks about your plans together. he mentioned that you love those coconut buns from the bakery near the hospital.” 

“trin,” you hissed. “stop.” 

“tell me if you’re fucking him, so i can change my bet. i don’t really wanna lose fifty bucks,” she whined, rocking on the heels of her feet. 

“brendon and i-,” 

“brendon?” she repeated, a sly grin on her face. 

“is none of your business,” and with that you began walking again, trinity trying to catch up to you. 

“what’s going on?” robby held out his hands, a playful smile on his face as he saw the two of you. 

“park brought her coffee and pastry because she complained she’s hungry.” eyes wide, you turned to trinity.  

“oh?” robby tilted his head towards you, and trinity almost gagged as he gave you the look only reserved for you. “we could have grabbed something, if you were hungry.” 

before you could answer, trinity answered for you, “when? between all the patients and nurses needing you, when?” 

you both turned to her, you incredulously and robby confused. “santos,” robby snipped, “i think garcia needs a set of hands in room six.” 

“shark? when did he start bringing you food?” it was an innocent question, if you didn’t know robby that well. unfortunately, for you, you knew him very well. 

“he’s actually nice,” you defended. “when he likes you.” 

“when has park ever liked you?” robby made a face and shook his head, “uh, sorry, not meant that way.” 

you laughed at his charming awkwardness, “we became friends recently. i like him.” 

“you like him?” robby arched a brow, his head tilting. 

you could feel a flush approaching your cheeks, and you really didn’t want to do this right now. especially with robby. with a hurried excuse, you scampered away from him. 

robby who didn’t realise why park suddenly started appearing a lot happier when he was down for a consult. 

robby who could see that the two of you obviously had inside jokes together, inside stories that only the two of you were privy too - something that he once had with you. 

robby who didn’t know where the nickname ‘pup’ came from, all he knew was he hated how you lit up at the name, practically preened whenever park said it to you. 

robby who always had feelings for you but never wanted to do anything because you’re good. you’re kind, and you’re you. and he was too old and too weathered for someone so good. 

brendon who stood by the nurses station in his normal clothes, waiting for you to finish. he ignored the looks that were thrown his way, or the appreciation in some.

he watched as you began your final chart, his eyes roaming all over you. you didn’t seem that tired compared to other days, you actually seemed to be in a pretty good mood. chatting away to him as you kept filling out forms. 

“did you see that photo that i sent you during your break?” you briefly looked up to brendon, the back to the computer. “the sushi place on station square.” 

“i already made reservations,” brendon simply replied. eyes scanning you and then the report briefly, tsking under his breath and pointed to the mistake. 

“i was getting to that,” you snapped playfully. “and thank you.” 

he looked back out to the space and saw hastings and robinavitch stopping at the station where the two of you were. 

“so i was thinking of coming over tonight?” park practically rolled his eyes at the blatant flirting happening in front of him. he glanced at hastings, leaning over the counter to talk to robby and watched as the other man briefly look over to you. 

“i don’t think that’s a good idea,” robby smiled tightly, still glancing between you now and then. not that you realised, too busy frowning at the computer as your screen decided to freeze. 

“i swear, you motherfucker,” you cursed under your breath. 

listening to the conversation happening right beside you, park closely kept an eye on your mood. anticipating your face scrunching up in distaste at the flirting going on in front of you

“done!” you celebrated as you stood up and slammed your folder shut. “fucking finally,” turning to brendon. “you ready to go, shark?” 

brendon hopped off the desk he was leaning on, “let’s go, pup.” 

“night,” you nodded to the other two before leading brendon to your locker. 

brendon barely glanced at the two as he passed, but he did note gleefully the look on robby’s face. 

brendon who isn’t afraid of dropping everything to make sure you’re okay…as friends

you watched mel instructing the breathing patterns and you tried your best to follow her, trying to will down the fast pace of your heart. 

“that’s it,” mel encouraged, a smile on her face. “just a couple more.” 

you breathed through your nose again, eyes looking around the room. a bit embarrassed at the situation that you were unfortunately placed in. you could see langdon and santos giving you a reassuring look, and robby who looked like he was about to blow a fuse. 

before anyone could say anything, you could hear dana bellowing a ‘room three’ to someone and then a harsh opening of the doors. “what the fuck happened?” brendon barked at the room. his attention solely focused on you. 

“i’m fine,” you called out. “just a bit of a scare.” 

not removing his eyes off you, he addressed the room again. 

“a patient got aggressive, said some mean shit, yanked her arm and threw her against some machines,” santos answered quickly, her eyes shifting between the two of you. 

the air was charged and mel moved out of the way, eyeing park like he was a predator going to snap at any minute. 

“you okay?” he asked softly, eyes running over your face and body, scowling when he saw the red print on your arm. when he saw you nod, he looked away, and then commanded, “out.” 

without another word, you watched as your colleagues scurry away. robby hesitating at the door, looking at you softly, fighting every cell in his body that wanted to stay with you. 

“i’m okay,” you murmured softly once everyone left. you weren’t, not really, but he didn’t have to know that. 

“no, you’re not.” 

“bones aren’t even broken,” you joked, trying to smile at him. 

“i’m not talking about your bones,” he tsked, stepping forward. 

“bren,” you said softly. your muscles relaxing as soon as you could feel his body heat radiate off him. 

“we’re staying at mine tonight,” he muttered, tucking a strand of her behind your ear, then dragging down his fingers until he landed on your injured arm. tapping your fingertips with his a couple of times, he looked back up at you. “what were you doing with king before?” 

“breathing exercises, helps me,” you watched as he slowly drifted both hands to your wrist and held them gently. 

“show me,” he whispered. “i can hear your heartbeat all the way from here.” 

brendon who felt his heart racing in his chest, who hasn’t felt this way since he was in high school asking out his first girlfriend. 

“we’re dating,” he declared. 

“excuse me?” you turned to him, baffled at his sudden announcement. you stopped chopping the carrot and leaned over to pause your music. 

“we only have sex with each other, i know what you like, you know what i like, you’re practically over here every day, we make a point to have dinner together at least once a week,” brendon listed off reasons. “do you want me to go on?” 

“since when was this us dating?” 

brendon stared blankly at you, “if i had it my way, ever since i kissed you in my house. knew you were the woman for me after you yanked my hair.”

feeling yourself beginning to get flustered, you breathed out loudly. “and you kept this from me because?” 

brendon shrugged, “you would have never said yes.” 

“maybe you just liked me yanking your hair.” 

rolling his eyes, “you want to date me.” 

“you’re presumptuous,” you replied, a bit amused at his obvious nervousness. 

“i’m falling in love with you,” he stated simply and that took your breath away. you looked at his face, scanning every nook and cranny that you familiarised yourself with the last six months, trying to see if he was misleading you. 

but you saw none. 

“unless you’re still fucking in love with robinavitch, i’m willing to wait until you love me back,” he affirmed, like those were the only two options that you could choose. 

“most men ask,” you reminded. “and they usually have flowers or some gifts when they ask.” 

“i’m not most men, and i bought you those flowers when we went to the market a couple of days ago,” he pointed to the beautiful flowers on your kitchen table. 

“hr’s gonna have a fit,” was all you said. you watched in amusement as brendon took a while to understand your words, and when he did, a bright grin took over his face. ignoring your exclaim of his name, he wrapped you up in his arms. 

Your legs tremble, hiccuping, “Shit- mmph- I-I feel so full Si!”

“‘F course you do,” he snickers, his fat fingers grazing your tummy and pressing down at the his cock that’s bulging out, earning moans from the both of you, “Right where ‘m meant t’ be, huh baby?”

Your mouth is stuck in to shape of an ‘o’, both set or lips drooling as Simon rams himself in you. Watching the way your eyes rolls to the back of your back everytime he angles his hips so perfectly into your sticky sweet spots, almost hitting your head against the tile of the bathroom wall at how good you feel.

“Can’t believe this slutty pussy’s taken me so well in the mornin. Should have you makin this stupid fuckin face- hnngh- every. Fuckin. Day.” His words match every single of his mean thrusts.

You let out a ragged whine, trying to find some relief by pushing yourself into the wall but Simon only snickers, sinking his cock deeper in your snug depths, “Where ‘re you runnin off to?” He dips into the water, spreading your swollen folds wider with his thumb, dipping his thumb inside to his knuckle.

You yelp out, clawing at his shoulders, “Simon- angh! Simooon!”

“Shit- hck- Greedy fuckin thing, ‘s like your cunt only wants, more and more,” he sweetly purrs, stokes getting faster as he swiveled his hips into yours. Smirking down at you as he holds you tight, “and more.” You can feel the fucking bath water starting to slosh inside you as it splashes onto the floor with every thrust.

“Fuck- ‘s too much- aah- too much!” You mewl, shaking hands going down his chest to his dark happy trail. But you don’t have the strength to push him, your hips only sluttily bucking forward to meet his.

Simons saliva coated canines show more and more, lifting you to see how his dick disappears inside your pussy, the way you keep clenching and sputtering around him, “But look at how she’s suckin me in, doll. Fuckin cunny achin for me, poor thing.” He condescendingly coos.he shudders, “Lucky Daddy knows juuust how t’ take care of it.”

He spits down on your cunt, loud thwacks filling the bathroom, thumb rubbing your inner lining while he gives you harsh stroke after stroke.

You don’t even know you were keening, an ‘imcumminimcummingimcumm-’ till you felt the wetness of your own juices against Simons stomach, white cream coating Simon’s stiff dick. Your eyes are damp, the way Simons still rutting into your used cunt till his cum is filling your pretty pussy. Slipping out of you while his cum still spurts into the now dirty bath water.

The older man looks down at you, length still throbbing even though he’s cum once. His dark and gazed over eyes glance at the clock, then to you, who’s more than delirious, trembling and still whimpering like hes still inside your gaping hole, pressed against the bathroom tile. He lifts you in his arms, your legs wrapping around his waist, his dick pricking your thigh. “Still gotta go t’ tha bloody place, fuck.” He grumbles like it’s a curse, because it is. Who wouldn’t want to spend the day wrapped in your arms just like this with their lover. He let’s out a breath, stepping out of the bathtub and back to the bedroom. His rough had trails your spine, leaving soft kisses from your shoulder to your jaw, then giving you a filthy and wet kiss.

He presses his forehead to yours, “Think you could help me cum one more time lovie?”

He hasn’t looked up, he’s too focused. And there’s something practiced and deeply troubling about the speed of which his hands are movings — it tells you more than his face even would.

“John?” you try, his back is to you now.

“Hey,” he says, a drawer slides open, he rifles through it, turns around, and whatever he took from the drawer disappears into his bag. “Listen to me a minute.”

“What’s happening? Wh- what’re you doing?”

You take a tentative step toward the bed.

“I have to go,” he says flat, pared down, slotted neatly into the rhythm of his packing. “Right now. Tonight.”

“Go where? You’ve only just got back. Is it a—,”

“It’s not work,” he cuts in roughly, then shakes his head, eyes squeezed shut.

His hands go still over the bag and he turns his head and finally, finally looks at you, blue eyes hooking under your ribs. He takes a steadying inhale through his parted lips, then out his flaring nostrils.

“It’s… it’s not a job, dove.”

You feel so behind him in this, like you’re still standing in the warm kitchen five minutes ago, still on the version of tonight where dinner’s almost ready. You can feel a tickle of dread crawling up the back of your neck.

You’ve never seen him like this.

He’s never like this — frantic.

“Then what is it, J—,”

“Shepherd’s dead,” he spills. He says it the way you’d pluck a splinter from a soft palm, all at once because slow is worse. “It was me, I did it. There’ll be people comin’ here to look for me, and I can’t be here when they come, and I can’t—” His throat bobs. “I can’t be anywhere near you. D’you understand me?”

You don’t.

His confession arrives in pieces and your hands rise to your temples as the words work their way into whatever corner of your mind is properly conscious.

He’s gone back to moving, the zip of the bag closing like something tearing in half. It’s the moving you can’t deal with right now because the moving means it’s already decided. It was decided before he came through the front door. You’re hearing the end of a conversation he’s been having with himself for god knows how long.

Sick turns over in your belly, hot and acidic as it ascends your esophagus, burning the back of your tongue before you swallow it back down.

“Stop.” Your hand closes firm around his forearm. “Stop, just— just look at me. Goddamnit, just— Stop moving!”

To his credit, he goes still for a moment, turning fully toward you now and lifts both hands to your face, cradling your jaw, and every scrap of that frantic velocity drains out of him. His forehead comes down to yours, warm, a little slicked. And suddenly you would give anything to have the frantic version of him back, because stillness means he’s made time for it. John doesn’t make room for things that don’t matter. He’s making room to say goodbye, and knowing that opens up beneath you like a trap-door.

His thumbs sweep the tears you didn’t even feel on your cheeks. “Look at me,” his hands stiffen and close tighter when they rest on your face, forcing your gaze onto his. “I need you to hear me.”

“No.” You’ve got two fistfuls of his shirt now, the cotton crushed in your hands, your head moving side to side against the cage of his palms. “No. No! You don’t get to do this, we’ll— we’ll fix it,” you try to sniffle but sob instead. “You’ll go to someone— Kate! There’ll be a way—,”

“There isn’t,” he murmurs, almost pleading.

“There’s always a way.”

“Not for this.” He says it so softly it takes the legs out from under you. His breath is warm against your mouth. “Not this one, dove. Not this time. I’m sorry.”

Part of you doesn’t quite believe the apology. It was tacked on at the end like an afterthought. You know John. Or, maybe you thought you did. The blood in your heart feels like it’s curdling, heavy, turning to tar as you continue to process exactly what’s happening here.

What he’s done.

You wrench your neck and free your face from the heat of his hands.

“How long?” you ask, voice breaking.

He doesn’t answer.

You strike his chest with the flat of both hands, again and again, then again. You can’t even shift him an inch and the both of you know it, it’s just somewhere for the fear to go as it bubbles. His chin tucks, watching with a curling devastation as you keep connecting with his body. In a flash, he’s got both of his hands on your wrists, yanking you forward against him. “How long, John?!”

You’re starting to learn how long.

He says nothing.

This isn’t a tour. It isn’t a season away with a date at the end of it. He’s running. There is no number because there is no horizon he can point to, no morning he can promise you he’ll be standing in this room again.

The realization comes out of you barely above a breath as you tip your head back to see him. “You’re not coming back.”

His eyes fall shut. He presses his mouth to your forehead hard and holds there, and when the words come they come muffled into your hair just above your ear, into the warmth of you he’s trying to memorize.

“I love you.” It’s not an answer to your question by any stretch of the imagination. He pulls back again to meet your eyes. “Whatever they say about me, whatever you hear — that’s the only truth, yeah?” His knuckles lift to your chin, the pad of his thumb pushing against the front of it, holding your gaze. “When they come, you tell them I was here, I threatened you, and I left in a hurry.”

Your lip wobbles as you look at him, your throat is so tight it hurts.

“Say it back to me.”

“Y- you were here, you left in a hurry.”

“I was here, I threatened you, I left in a hurry,” he repeats.

“You were here, y-you thre- threatened me, you left in a hurry.”

“Good.”

He kisses you and you can almost taste both halves of him in it at once: the half that’s yours, and the half that's already gone. You give it back to him like you can hold him in the room by your mouth alone. But you can’t. And you feel the precise instant he decides to stop, the breath he takes to force himself away.

“Lock the door behind me,” he says.

And the velocity is back. He swings the duffle bag up onto his shoulder, and he’s past you before you’ve turned, out the bedroom door, and you spin and rush after him with his name tearing out of you, your bare feet slapping against the hardwood.

“John! Please! John!”

But he’s already at the foot of the stairs, already crossing the hall, always faster than you, and you’re only halfway down when the front door swings open and the cold of the night pours in over the threshold to meet you. You reach the bottom step, lurch for the door.

The street is empty.

You look left, you look right. It’s as if you dreamt the whole thing. As if you made him up, boots to beard.

Behind you, the speaker’s still playing music from the kitchen. The onions have started to catch, the sweet smell tipping over into something bitter and charred.

John’s raspy voice came through the speaker. Your throat tightened and you couldn’t speak.

“Who’s this?” he asked again.

You had to answer or he’d hang up. You know he never checks who’s calling, at least not when he’s just woken up.

“Mmm… John…” your voice came out as a trembling whisper. The emotion of the moment and the pain in your face kept you from speaking properly. “It’s… mm, it’s me. Sorry for calling.”

You felt embarrassed for sounding so weak. He shouldn’t be the person you call, but you don’t have anyone else right now. Mom is in another country, and Dad too.

“Hey.”

You could hear the way his voice softened, the rustle of bedsheets as he moved in bed.

“Hey, sweetheart, are you okay?”

Damn it. He always knew when something was wrong.

You sobbed quietly, your chest aching.

“John…”

The words got stuck in your throat and you could already taste metal in your mouth. John didn’t speak while you stayed silent, but you could hear the little things that gave him away — the scratch of his beard, the shifting of his body in bed, distressed by the sound of your crying.

“Sweetheart, what happened?” his voice became softer, lower. “Talk to me, princess.”

Fuck. His voice destroyed you. You should be treated like that every day and never expect less. You never should’ve settled for less.

“Can you come get me?”

You finally managed to say it. You sobbed again and looked at yourself in the bathroom mirror of your house — your new house — and saw the crooked angle of your nose and the blood running from two different places.

“I hit the window…”

You covered your mouth with your hand and sobbed again. Damn it, you always cried like a little kid with John, but this was different.

“I need you, John.”

“Are you home?” he asked, his tone suddenly firmer.

You hoped he wasn’t angry that you’d bothered him. On the other end of the call you could hear groans and murmured voices.

You answered with a small yes.

“Alright, pretty girl. We’ll be there in ten minutes.”