iris

dragging your hips forward and back, you lay one hand on shoulder, the other on his cheek. 

on instinct, he nuzzles into your palm. when his eyelids flutter closed, you lean in and kiss him breathless. but as soon as he links your tongues together, you pull back and bounce in his lap two times fast, giggling at the pained moan that floats through the air.

“please,” he begs. 

you press your lips to the corner of his eye, trailing a crescent down his cheek. when you reach his mouth again, you roll your hips so deep that you can feel what it does to him—the way he chokes on air, the way his heart stutters in his chest. still, he refuses to break from you, relishing any contact you'll allow him.

again, you pull away first, to his dejection.

“what do you want me to say? already said sorry,” he slurs, leaning close just for his lips to brush the bottom of your chin. caleb frowns at the lack of contact. you tap his nose, and his frown deepens further. 

“take it back,” you order. 

confusion and want clash on his face. “huh?” 

“i affect you more. say it.”

he swallows. sparks of rebellion light in his violet eyes, but ultimately fizzle out. 

he sobers up some as he holds your gaze, and you welcome the quickening pulse in your center. “everything you do makes me like this,” he admits. “your voice, your scent—even when i just think of you, i almost…”

his reluctance spoils your excitement. huffing, you thread your fingers in his hair and tug, pulling a low groan from his throat. 

“you almost what? keep going.”

“i—” his eyes rove over you, frantic, troubled. when you tug his hair again, harder this time, his face falls in a mix of shame and agitation. “please,” he grumbles in defeat. 

you take in his flushed face, sweat-slick skin, and the rapid rise and fall of his firm chest. the quivers of the muscles that could so easily dominate you.

cooing softly, you pinch his cheek. “caleb?” 

“yes?” he rasps. 

“don’t tease me like that again. it makes me feel needy, and then i have to prove you wrong.”

despite himself, he chuckles. “yeah. yeah, okay,” he answers shakily. “i’m the needy one.” 

nodding in acceptance, you lean in to kiss him, giving him all that he wants this time. when he pushes his tongue past your lips, you soothe his desperate one with your own, rewarded by a soft sequence of moans. 

humming, you break away and tap his grey boxers. “these stay on. i’m still mad.”

“you know i’ll take anything,” he breathes.

“won’t you?”

granting him the gift of friction, you swivel your hips with abandon, grinding your core against his ever-hardening length. in a matter of moments, he screws his eyes shut tight, abdomen flexing into stone beneath you. as warmth flows through your clothes, he throws his head back in relief, consumed by the release he's been aching for. 

while he steadies his breathing, you kiss his brow and roll off to the side. your eyes catch on the wet patch spreading in his lap. “good?” you ask.

“good.”

wobbling from the impact, zayne recovers quickly and gently peels you off of him. “is something wrong?”

“no.” you try to dive back in, but you’re halted by an impromptu examination. he feels your forehead, checks your lymph nodes, and puts a hand over your heart. at first, you think he’s only toying with you. but when he moves to inspect your nostrils next, you cut the checkup short with a scandalized grunt. 

“are you sure you’re alright? you can hardly walk straight.” his eyes narrow slightly. “and before you say that i’m to blame, that was every bit what you asked for last night.” 

“stop,” you groan. like a magnet, the crown of your head finds its way back to his chest. “i’m fine. i saw a video of a cat headbutting its owner and thought it was cute. it’s how they show affection. i wanted to try it, but you keep getting in my way.”

repositioning yourself, you settle over his quickening heartbeat. his pectorals freeze against your forehead before finally relaxing, and he gives in with a chuckle. 

“i see. in that case, it’s only right that i return the gesture.” zayne curls one hand around your waist, bringing you impossibly closer. with his other, he cups your cheek gently, warmth from his large palm flowing into your skin. when he leans forward, you can’t help but close your eyes in anticipation. 

a force you can only compare to a heavyweight bowling ball knocks into your skull. the thunk sound echoes through the kitchen. 

suppressing a yelp, you rear backwards and try to blink the dizziness away. on the counter, the water in his glass ripples from the aftershocks. 

the human hardhat in front of you looks pleased with himself—until he sees the grimace on your face, that is. confused caution turns his pink cheeks a deeper red. “is that how cats do it?” 

“uh-huh,” you lie. “that was great. it’s just…i’m glad a brain as brilliant as yours is under such elite protection.”

he furrows his eyebrows. “what do you mean?”

the profile can only take him so far. when a suspect makes a bold move, he makes a bolder one. gets in trouble with the unit chief sometimes, but that’s alright. what are they going to do, fire him? good luck filling his shoes. 

theories usually end up being right. he enjoys being right. the job tires him, but man is it a rush to read someone like a book. probably because he learned to analyze behavior by watching you

keeps a notebook of everyone he’s saved and everyone he’s caught. to remind him of the good in the world and those who threaten it

secret tech whiz, but prefers being out in the field. despite the fact that he has been seriously injured multiple times

doubles as a stuntman. he’s the one taking impossible cross-building leaps to pursue a suspect, and he’s sticking the landing every time

when an interrogation’s going nowhere, he’s the team’s secret weapon. can charm someone into a pair of handcuffs without them even realizing they’ve confessed 

sylus

if you can’t beat him, beg him to help you with a difficult case. 

he’s an infamous criminal, but the profiling team asks him to contribute his knowledge to an investigation. he complies in exchange for something, unless he has a personal vendetta against the suspect. then the opportunity to get back at them is payment enough 

following procedure is hit or miss. sometimes, there’s not an atom out of place at the crime scenes he surveys. sometimes, his goons (luke & kieran) get too rowdy and compromise crucial evidence (he’ll pay for that shattered vase, btw)

learning how to be a team player. as in, another agent inspects the house. he stands against the far wall, picking at his nails. “you did see the bomb over there, right?” he asks haphazardly.

they make it out with seconds to spare.

when he catches the suspect, he’s begrudgingly offered a permanent spot on the profiling team—he’s just too good to let go, despite his eccentricities. he refuses, of course, but offers to let the team join onychinus instead. they refuse, of course.

holding back a scoff, you defend what’s yours. “he said he’d tone down the violence, okay? he’s lived this life for so long—you can’t expect him to change instantly. we’re taking baby steps here.” 

“please tell me what baby is into sports cars and shootouts.”

mine is! you almost answer. but you keep it to yourself. 

sylus is so cute. 

“come on. at the very least, you have to admit that he’s trying. no bombs, no fires—wouldn’t you call that an improvement from before?” you sigh. sylus is so noble. “sounds like growth to me.”

“one of the cars chasing him just crashed into the median barrier. the screen went black,” she narrates flatly. 

“well, they were probably getting too close to injuring civilians, and he put a stop to it.” he always does. “he hates when the innocent are collateral, you know. he told me that last week.” 

her voice, shrill and incredulous, crackles over the line. “last week? i thought you two were still on  break last week. you know, until he swore to stop dragging you into his markedly less-than-legal schemes.”

“he took me to dinner,” you sigh dreamily. “and he bought me an apology necklace.” sylus is so kind. 

for a second, she’s quiet. “and you just accepted tha—”

buzz! buzz!

“can you hang on a second?” you rush, trying to mask your excitement. “i’m getting another call.”

“mm-hmm, go ahead. i’m taking bets on how much of the city will be left when you get back.” 

in one ear, out the other. as you greet the new caller, all you can focus on is that rich, baritone voice flooding your senses once again. 

“sweetie?” sylus says. you hear the faint squeak of overworked tires in the background. a squeak, not a squeal, you note, warmth fluttering in your heart.

he must be going the speed limit. 

 “i’ll be home soon,” he continues, “but i wanted to pick up a gift for you on the way. you still like lilies, right?”

“mm-hmm!” you chirp. “they’re my favorite.” oh, how he spoils you. 

“i thought so,” he chuckles lightly, the sound soaring over flurries of piercing, thunderous cracks. the final round is the loudest, and then, they stop altogether. “get a vase ready, then. i’ll see you soon.”

“see you soon,” you echo, missing him already. 

when you hang up, you redial your friend’s number. “hey, you still there?”

“yup,” she answers, popping the p. “the news feed cut back on. the car in front just drove through a flower stall.” 

for the first time since the last time, your blood runs cold. “was anyone hurt?”

“no. the reporters said it’s conveniently closed today.”

“oh, well…that’s a relief.” with a hand to your chest and a grin on your lips, you imagine the bouquet of semi-charred lilies you'll see when he gets home. you’ll find the beauty in their imperfections, just like you do with sylus. 

sylus, you think, drifting into space again.

you aren’t one to assume, but you can’t help but have a hunch. maybe, just this once, the person you like likes you back? when you were younger, you wouldn’t have let yourself believe it. now, you aren’t sure if it’s the growing number of years you’ve been on this earth, or the fact that if you fumbled a hot, sweet, funny, cute doctor, you’d quite literally never forgive yourself. 

it can’t hurt to try. but he’s good at concealing his feelings—even in the most hopeless of meetings, he barely even cracks a smirk. on top of that, he’s much more valuable to the hospital than you. if anything happened, then didn’t work out, you’d be the one on the chopping block. 

all week, between soft smiles and softer words exchanged, you’ve been brainstorming ways to find out how he feels. 

on the kitchen counter, the thick batter gurgles a bit. 

to reiterate: you are not a doctor, or a psychologist. not a communicator, either, aside from asking patients about insurance. so, yeah, this is the best you’ve got. 

***

the next morning, you arrive to a lively akso, the cardiac ward decked out in red and pink paper hearts. the other receptionists are more festive than you this year, but your tunnel vision is for good reason. while your colleagues rush toward your tub of cookies, giving hugs and high-pitched thank-yous, your focus is locked on zayne. he’s relatively free this morning, to your delight, and hovering around the front desk. 

when the swarm of coworkers dissipates, he makes a beeline for…well, you’re not sure if it’s for you or the cookies. but you suppose they’ll help you figure that out. 

“happy valentine’s day, dr. li! i know how much you like sweets, so i saved you the biggest one.” you brandish a large, carefully wrapped cookie, holding your breath while he accepts it. 

please think the rose petals are sprinkles, please think the rose petals are sprinkles, please think the rose petals are sprinkles…

zayne examines your gift thoughtfully. “that’s very kind of you. i hope these didn’t take too long to bake.”

“not at all!” they took twice as long to solidify because of all the honey, but maybe it’ll be worth it. 

he brings the cookie to his mouth, and you feel your palms begin to sweat. even as he chews, his face is neutral. 

“it’s very good,” he says finally, and you almost collapse with relief. “and familiar, somehow. ginger, vanilla…”

your heart liquifies and drains into your stomach. you suppose this is the best place for something like that to happen. and the best person for it to happen in front of, if he doesn't have you removed from the premises before he can treat you. 

“rose, honey, milk chocolate,” he finishes.

“you…have good tastebuds,” you say weakly. should you start packing your things now, or at the end of the day?

his lips curl slightly, and mischief swirls in his hazel eyes. “i took herbal medicine in college, and this was a…unique concoction. of course, i recognized the ingredients.” he somehow elegantly stuffs the rest of the cookie into his mouth. by the time he starts speaking again, you’re still quivering. “i think the original recipe calls for a little less sweetness, though. the flavor should be more similar to this.” he pulls out a heart-shaped box from the pocket of his lab coat. 

is…this…?

he’s a cardiac surgeon. surely he owns a lot of heart-shaped things. and it’s valentine’s day, and he usually has candy, so it would make sense if he had just found some at the store and brought it with him. you do that too, sometimes. those orange cream chocolates are the be—

the box inches closer. by the time you realize he’s giving it to you, it almost passes through your shaking hands—until his free palm comes up to steady your grip. 

little bear

zayne: perfect neurodivergent safe show

rafayel: in my head he found the art style and natural landscapes much more artistic and sophisticated than the shows where the main character is just a stick figure with crayon over it

sylus: i just feel like the animals would have calmed him. since he’s so strong as an adult in some ways he would have also been a little bear

max & ruby 

zayne: max reminded him of himself bc he didn’t talk a lot

xavier: max reminded him of himself bc his voice wasn’t very loud

caleb: didn’t care for the show that much but once made mc ruby’s pink cake with sprinkles on it because she loved it so much

little einsteins

sylus: imagine this is his introduction to music and he just fell in love. still uses vocab he learned from the show to describe songs

xavier: space

caleb: rocket

wow wow wubbzy

rafayel: rage quit the game where you play as wubbzy and go to atlantis because he kept running into the spiky things

sylus: between widget and walden he would’ve nerded the fuck OUT

caleb: similar to sylus. i think they would’ve thought widget was the coolest rabbit engineer thing ever

bubble guppies

rafayel: self explanatory 

i did not actually watch this show. but i couldn’t leave it out 

oobi

xavier and zayne. i have no explanation

zoboomafoo

sylus: i keep sticking him everywhere with animals but i truly believe he would’ve eaten this up. until he realized zoboomafoo was fake. then he would’ve been mad

caleb: i think the adventure and fun facts would’ve easily roped him in. also treated the kratt brothers as positive male role models bc he had 0

oswald

zayne: neurodivergent safe show