lesyeuxsansvisage

Work is gruesome, as it usually is. Jack’s outside of your apartment when you get home, t-shirt pulling taut around his shoulders as he leans down to grab the numerous packages sitting on your doorstep. His face lights up when he sees you, sitting up straight so that he can loop his index finger into your beltloop and bring you closer for a welcome home kiss. “Hey, sweetheart,” he mumbles against your mouth. “How was your day?”

You reach to grab one of the packages, trying to help him from having to hold them all, but he skillfully manuvers away from your reaching hands and opens the front door for you instead. When you stop to give him a stern look, he just nudges the back of your ankle with his foot, gesturing with his head for you to step inside.

Surrendering on this fact, you sigh, stepping into the apartment. You’re quick to shed your bag and hang it up, kicking off your shoes and abandoning them next to the door. Seeing Jack eye them out of the corner of your eye, you lean down to grab them, setting them down on the shoe rack. “Exhausting,” you admit.

He places the packages on the kitchen counter, stacking them neatly. A palm flattens against the granite as he turns to look at you, the muscle of his bicep just begging to be let out the confines of his shirt. “Want me to run you a bath?” He asks.

You laugh at the pure incredulousity of the moment. Months ago, you had been dating guys your age, worshipping the small things like opening doors or paying for your drinks. You had been fighting about feeling insignificant, about having to pull them away from video games long enough to have an at-home dinner with you, about feeling ignored when you hung out with their friends.

And now there’s Jack Abbot. Older than you, sure, but he was everything you had been asking for on every birthday wish. He spoke about you when you weren’t there, had you plastered upon everything that everyone would see (his home and lockscreen, your initials engraved on the inside of his watch) and chose to hang out with you over everyone else. His phone was abandoned on the kitchen counter from when you got home until the both of you went to bed, the ringer on so he didn’t have to check it just in case anything from the hospital came in.

Everyone who had been with you throughout the trials and tribulations that was dating in the modern age had told you the same thing – the perfect one will come by when you least expect it. Of course, you didn't believe them. It was hard to have hope in the later days when every person you became slightly interested in treated you so horribly, like you were just another person rather than you.

But then Jack came about. A charming smile, a calmness about him, an empathetic soul that you thought only existed in books and movies written by women. He had courted you kindly, although carefully, not wanting to come off as some older creep who wanted you just for your youth. Your first date had been filled with flowers and butterfly feelings, showing off everything Jack Abbot was rather than a facade of everything you wanted him to be.

You smile as you step closer, leaning up to kiss him again. A “thank you” to something he did without knowing he did it. “It’s alright, baby. I’ll probably just quickly shower before dinner.” And then you kiss him once more, just because you want to.

“Alright,” he concedes. He places a final kiss on your forehead, hand playfully swatting your ass as he steps away. “I’ll get dinner started so you don’t have to cook while you’re hungry.

Shaking your head, you laugh as you step into your shared bedroom. You don’t close the door when you strip off your work clothes, a girlish giggle leaving your lips when Jack playfully whistles from the kitchen. After fixing him with a matching glare, you finally disappear into the bathroom, closing the door behind you to keep the steam from seeping out.

Once you’re in the shower, you look down at the shower drain, remembering your list from this morning. A task for tomorrow morning, you decide, a good way to spend your day off when Jack is at work. For now, you’d have to deal with a little bit of water pooling around your feet while you washed off the grime of the day.

Except the water never catches. Instead, it flows down the drain easily, never staying in the tub for longer than a moment. Shock flows down your body the same way the shower spray does, your jaw dropping. 

You finish up quickly before hopping out, drying off and wrapping yourself in the fluffy robe Jack had bought you the moment you had complained about not wanting to get dressed as soon as you got out of the shower. After ensuring you won’t drip water all over the apartment, you bombard your way into the kitchen, where your boyfriend is happily cooking while humming some old rock tune to himself.

“Did you unclog the shower drain?” You ask, letting your tone be as accusatory as it wanted to be.

Jack glances over his shoulder at you, the wrinkles around his eyes softening at the look of you all bundled up. He remembers your question and looks up at your face, shrugging. “Yeah. I noticed it wasn’t draining as well, only took about two minutes to do.” His horrible habit of brushing off everything he did comes roaring to a head, his focus turning back to the stove.

“Jack,” you whine. You sidle up behind him, arms wrapping around his waist from behind and placing your cheek between his shoulder blades. His hand grabs yours, lifting them up slightly so you weren’t accidentally burned. “You didn’t have to do that. It’s my hair.”

He laughs softly, the sound rumbling beneath your cheek. “I’m insulted that you think my luscious locks wouldn’t help clog the shower drain,” he deflects. “Oh, I also put away those books in the bedroom. I’m not sure if it’s exactly how you organized them, so let me know if you need me to move them.”

That just pulls another groan out of you, turning your head to press your face fully into his skin. “You’re so annoying. I was going to do both of those things tomorrow.” Your voice turns whiny as you trail off, fingertips pressing into his abdomen.

“But I did them today so now you don’t have to. You can enjoy your day off the way you’re supposed to.” Jack steps away from the stove, grabbing your hands so that he can turn around and pull you into his chest. He places a gentle kiss on your hairline, smiling into your hair. “Sittin’ pretty and spending my money.”

Your brow knits as you look up at him, hands sliding down to his waist. “You’re mean.”

“I love you,” he responds easily. Still grinning like a child on Christmas morning, he tucks a strand of your wet hair away from your face before tilting your chin up, placing a lingering kiss on your lips. “Can’t be mad at me for lovin’ you, sweetheart.”

As he intended, you relax into his touch, chasing his lips when he pulls away. Then, you pout, huffing your indignation. “Fine. But only because I love you, too.”

Jack Abbot was good at noticing things. Picking up things others—except maybe Robby—wouldn’t. His hazel eyes stared across the ED observing more often than not. He knew things that people probably wanted to keep a secret or to themselves, and he made sure they stayed that way unless it involved danger in any way.

He picked up when people were in an off mood that wasn’t their usual self, he’d always make his voice a little softer—a brief grounding touch on the shoulder—send them for a break if needed. He knew when the coffee machine needed cleaned or new beans just by the smell alone. Never mind the taste that was somehow worse than it usually tasted. He could sense when a trauma was incoming or a person was behind him he’d feel the air shift around him, or the hair on the back of his neck and arms standing up. He knew when it was going to rain, another thing he could smell. He noticed when people were struggling, had a rough shift or simply just needed a breather.

But above all; he noticed you.

From the day you first stepped into that noisy ER he was silently clocking you—watching like he did with all newbies—but something about you made his chest twist in a way he hadn’t felt in years.

He noticed when you got new scrubs in a different color, all the different ways you did your hair each day. He looked forward to seeing what it would be every shift. He noticed which water bottle was yours, how you liked your coffee. The way you bit your bottom lip and furrowed your brows when you were thinking really hard. How gentle and soothing you were with patients, always calm and thorough. He noticed the way you’d snort quietly if you laughed hard enough. The way you painted your nails or added a small pin or accessory to your scrubs for each holiday.

He noticed your hovering hand when you’d squeeze past him, the small rub to his arm as a wordless ‘thank you.’ When his own arm was barely an inch from yours as you both leaned against the counter of the hub, talking to Dana. He could feel the heat of your skin, and he wondered if you could feel his too. He noticed if you had a ride to and from work every shift, he’d pay for your Uber or offer to drive you home if you didn’t.

So what if he hovered a little longer than usual to make sure you got in your Uber safely? Or memorized the license plate, make of the car and what driver looked like, just in case? So what if he ordered takeout from your favorite diner during a long and tiring shift? He was just looking out for you, right? He wanted all his coworkers to be safe. He’d do those things for anyone, wouldn’t he? He told himself that even when Dana suddenly spawned next to him, smirk on her lips and that look in her eye.

“Her car’s been gone for five minutes, how long are you gonna stand there and stare at the parking lot?”

“What?”, Jack’s head swiveled around way too fast; “I wasn’t-“

Dana hums; “Sure.”

“I was just taking a minute, waiting for Robby”, He tried.

Dana only laughed; “Robby’s been waiting for you at the hub for ten minutes.”

Shit. Were his ears as pink as they felt?

“Uh-yeah, right. Ok. Be right there.”

Dana mumbled something along the lines of “Stupid men worse than a teenager…” as she disappeared from his side and out of sight.

Even though Jack noticed things about you, the one thing he didn’t notice was how much you had noticed him too.

It was pretty much the same things; his mood, his coffee preference, things like that. But you also noticed the way his jaw clenched and ticked when he didn’t like something, the way his shoulders tensed, and pulled closer in on him when he was stressed. The way he scratched his stubble in deep thought. How he always stood with his bow legs apart, or how his hair always looked tousled like he’d run his fingers through it a million times that day. The soft smile and huff of a laugh that only a few people—like Robby and Dana—could get out of him. But then you started to notice you could bring it out of him too.

Most of all, you noticed when something was off about him. When he was trying to cover something up or hide something from everyone around him; like he had to in order to keep going.

─ ─── ─── ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─── ─── ─── ─

You first noticed how tired he looked when he walked in through the ED doors at the beginning of your shared shift. The way his eyes were slightly more sunken and heavy, his shoulders stiff and jaw tight. The way his feet seemed to drag below him. The way he looked like he hadn’t slept at all on his day off. His stubble was slightly thicker and darker, only adding to his disheveled appearance as he got closer to you.

“Geez Jack, you look like hell, brother”, Robby’s voice comes from behind you.

Jack pauses for a second, so quick you almost missed it, and then keeps moving towards the staff room. He doesn’t laugh, doesn’t smile, only a small flick of his eyes at Robby.

“Thanks man”, It comes out low and gruff, like it physically hurts to talk.

When he’s out of earshot you turn back towards Dana and Robby, preparing for handoffs.

“What’s going on with him?”, You ask, low enough for only them to hear, careful not to overstep.

Robby lets out a deep sigh, hands in his hoodie pockets as he shrugs his shoulders, raising his eyebrows to his hairline; “Don’t know. Not exactly the easiest person to get to open up.”

You hear Dana scoff next to you; “You’re one to talk.”

Robby shoots her a brief glare, and a “Thank you, Dana”, before sipping on the last of his—now probably cold—coffee. One of his hands claps your shoulder as he moves past, bending down close to your ear.

“I already talked to Lena but, keep an eye on him, ok? He seems to trust you, maybe you can get him to talk.”

You don’t have time to respond as Jack appears beside the hub again, rolling his neck like it’s stiff before turning to Robby to do handoffs. You feel Dana’s hand on your lower back before you see her, turning you gently to come with her until you’re both out of earshot. She knew about your crush on him, hell she encouraged it. Not that she didn’t take any opportunity she could to tease you about it. But this wasn’t one of those times; she was serious.

“I caught him asleep in an on call room during his last shift”, Her voice is low, brow pinched together.

You look over at Jack briefly, then back at Dana; “Really?”

She hums in response; “I’ve never seen him like this. Usually I have to force him to take a break.”

Jack was stubborn. Headstrong. Everyone knew that. He rarely ever let his guard down—and when he did—it wasn’t for just anyone. As you looked him over, you couldn’t help but think how tired he looked. Already more prominent than when he’d walked in a few minutes prior.

You huffed softly; “I’ll see what I can get out of him”, you pat Dana’s shoulder; “If not, you’re up mom.”

Dana laughed; “That’s right, and don’t you forget it either.”

─ ─── ─── ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─── ─── ─── ─

The shift starts how it usually does, a quick influx of patients has you and everyone else working on autopilot, practically speed walking everywhere, Dana had previously threatened to poke anyone she saw running between the eyes. Robby and Dana had long gone home, leaving the night shift to take over.

You don’t see Jack other than in quick passing until almost two hours into the shift. He’s walking up beside you as you both head for the ambulance bay, shoulders almost brushing together.

“Hey, you ok today?”, You ask softly.

It takes him off guard, his head whipping around to look at you so fast you don’t know how it didn’t hurt.

“Peachy, why?”, His voice is still gruff, not mean, just short and blunt. Like he doesn’t want to put too much thought into a coherent sentence.

You shrug; “Just seem tired today, wanted to make sure you’re ok.”

He forces a smile at that, but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes.

“M’fine, sweetheart. Just take care of you.”

You open your mouth to argue, but the arrival of the ambulance in front of you makes your words die before they reach your lips. You can’t help your eyes watching him as you roll the gurney through the ED and into a trauma room; watching him work. How his hands are just a little unsteady, not quite shaking but just slightly unsure of themselves. Still he moves with precision, but anyone who looked at him close enough would be able to tell something was off.

When you help him pull off his gown, Ellis is pulling you away to another patient before you can speak to him. But not without you seeing the hesitance in his step, his gait slightly wobbly, like he has to think about it before taking a step.

The moment you step into another patient’s room the thought is at the back of your mind. You can’t help your thoughts wandering to him each free second you get. You had shot Dana a text not long ago, filling her in on whatever you’d picked up on. The conversation did little to calm the apprehension crawling through your bones.

Somewhere across the ED, Jack steps out of another trauma, forcing himself around the corner before leaning up against a wall, forehead pressed to the cool paint as he inhales deeply. A shaky breath leaves his nose when he squeezes his eyes shut. It’s only for a minute—not long enough for anyone to catch—before he’s on the move again, gritting his teeth as he goes.

Later, you find him at the hub as you stop to check in with Lena. Your eyes drop to his feet where he has one foot—the prosthetic one—completely lifted off the ground, balancing all his weight on his good leg. Your heart hammers in your chest. Oh. He’s hurt.

You want to speak up, but not here. Instead you settle yourself at a computer to work on charting when his voice rings out, calling your name. You meet his gaze just in time to catch the sandwich he’d thrown at you.

“Eat.” It’s all he says before going on his way, not even fully stopping to talk.

Your chest pinches, even in pain Jack was still looking out for you. That’s just who Jack was. Everyone else before himself, no matter how much he might need something. Sleep, food, a moment of quiet? Not until everyone else had it.

“Jesus he’s stubborn”, Lena muses from behind you.

“Yeah”, You say, not fully paying attention, looking at the sandwich in your hands; “That he is.”

─ ─── ─── ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─── ─── ─── ─

Six hours into shift there’s a lull, you let yourself sit in the break room, refill your coffee, breathe for a moment. As soon as you look through the windows out into the hall that peace is shattered. Jack’s leaning against the furthest wall from you, back turned your direction, head down like he’s trying really hard to compose himself. You see his hesitation as he keeps one hand along the wall for balance as he goes to move, the furrow in his brow. You flick your eyes back down before he catches you looking.

A half an hour later, his prosthetic stutters beneath him, he grabs a nearby cart to steady himself; knuckles white as he grips it. All eyes turn to him, a quick “I’m fine”, tumbling from his lips before anyone can say anything.

It only gets worse from there. Walls and counters become his lifeline, hand pressed against the cool surfaces to keep himself upright with each step. He winces when he stands from the roller chairs in a patient’s room. A small sheen of sweat lingers above his brows. If his scrubs weren’t black it would probably be visible there too.

His jaw stays almost permanently clenched. Frustration settling inside him. Fake smiles with patients and other doctors. Quick two or three word answers, sometimes just a huff or a grumble in response. You find yourself steadying him with a hand hovering at his back during a few procedures; he thankfully wasn’t leading them. Ellis shoots you a look, you can only return one that says ‘I’m working on it.’

The idea of Jack making himself suffer didn’t sit right with you. Your eyes lingered on him longer, clocked him more quickly. Followed his movements or lack there of. How he favored one foot, how he winced each time his prosthetic touched the ground. You’d spent the last hour or so internally fighting yourself about confronting him. But the next time he rounds the corner cements your decision.

You stand without hesitation, moving quickly to be by his side, a hand reaching up to his shoulder.

“Dr Abbot-“

“I’m fine.”

“You’re not.”

“It’s just a long shift, I’m fi-“

“Jack”, You say sternly, and he finally looks at you; “Your leg. You’re bleeding.”

He follows your gaze to his foot where a small puddle of blood has dripped onto the floor. He looks back to see a trail of droplets from where he’d just come from. A deep sigh leaves his lips, a frown settling on his face as he shuts his eyes.

“Fucking shit.”

You don’t let him argue any further, grabbing his wrist and pulling him with you; “You need a bed. Now.”

You call it out to Lena before Jack can argue. You know he’s strong enough to get out of your grip if he really wanted to, but he doesn’t even try. Practically forcing him onto the exam bed after shutting the privacy curtain, you wheel yourself over to him on one of the chairs; slipping a pair of gloves on. A shaky hand hovers over his knee, your eyes meeting his to ask for permission.

“Can I?”, You ask softly.

He hesitates before nodding.

You carefully roll up his pantleg, removing his prosthetic and setting it next to the bed. You meet his eyes before you reach for the sleeve, gently tugging it down to reveal the slip that keeps it in place. A tear sits at the bottom of it, crimson seeping through. You remove it with gentle hands, setting it aside to clean up later. He winces slightly, hand inching closer to yours. You feel your breath catch in your throat when his skin is exposed.

His residual limb is bright red, angry, chaffed and swollen. An open sore or laceration at the bottom, no doubt the cause of his bleeding.

“Oh, Jack…”, Your voice comes out barely a whisper.

He doesn’t answer, only the sound of a breath leaving his nose hits your ears. The laceration on his leg a few inches long, but deep. Like it’s been slowly getting worse with each step he took.

“You’re gonna need a few stitches for this.”

He only shrugs, watching through tired eyes as you move around the room, getting everything for the sutures. He winces once when you numb him, either from the shot or the feeling of contact with his angry leg. You start the first suture in silence, psyching yourself up to speak.

“Dana said you fell asleep in an on call room last shift”, you say it as more of a statement than a question.

He shrugs; “Yeah, what about it?”

“Don’t you go home after shift?”

He’s silent for a moment, watching you work; and then:

“Been sleeping here between shifts. No point in going home if i’m just gonna come back in a few hours. Figured it would be easier, shower here too.”

You can feel your face drop.

“Jack, you need real rest.”

He doesn’t answer, just has that blank look on his face. You add the second suture before speaking again.

“When was the last time you took care of your leg?”

You watch him fold his arms, can see the hesitation before he speaks.

“Don’t know. A week? I take it off for the five minutes I get to shower.”

“A week? Jack that’s not-“

You stop yourself with a deep inhale; “…Have you been sleeping with it on?”

He nods; “Easier to get up if i’m needed. Faster.”

You clench your own jaw at that, heart aching as heavy silence filling the air as you put in the last suture before bandaging him up. As you wrap his leg you can feel his eyes on you, watching you work, maybe thinking something more.

“You don’t have to overwork yourself to the point of injury”, You finally say.

You know he won’t answer, but needs to hear it anyways. When you finish with his bandage you stand and remove your gloves.

“No prosthetic for a week, at least. I’ll talk to Robby about your shifts.”

“No, I’m fine really-“

“You’re not. You need rest to heal. You’re done for tonight too, I’ll take you home.”

He opens his mouth to argue, but stops when he sees the look on your face. Stern, not wavering, beyond serious.

“I’ll get my spare bag from the locker room and your crutches. Call Shen in. You’re going home.”

You disappear behind the curtain, sighing once to push back the tears that pricked your eyes. Disbelief and desperation to help him feel better ache in your chest. The realization of how much pain he was causing himself just to keep pushing through settles heavy over you. How someone so beautiful could reduce themselves to so little, to think they didn’t matter enough to take care of themselves. Lena clocks it immediately, pulling you in for a hug.

“Hey, what’s going on?”

You explain everything to her. She listens with an intensity only she and Dana posses. Her face stern. Nobody knew it was that bad. Then she calls Shen for you, fills Ellis in. Before you know it you’ve got your extra bag slung over your shoulder, and Jack’s crutches in hand.

When you pull back the curtain, Jack’s sitting on the edge of the bed, staring at the floor. You hand him his crutches, stepping to help him when he stops you.

“I got it, please, let me do this.”

You step back and follow him out of the room; “Come on, we’ll take the back exit.”

He leads you to his truck, stopping to fish in his pockets when your voice cuts through again.

“Give me your keys.”

“What?”, His asks, his eyebrows raised.

“You’re not driving. Give me your keys.”

The look of amusement he gives you doesn’t get him very far, and next thing you know he’s tossing you his keys with a huff, letting you hold his crutches as he pulls himself up into the truck.

─ ─── ─── ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─── ─── ─── ─

You pull into his driveway, letting his truck run for a moment before you switch it off. Looking over, you see his body slumped, head against the window, eyes shut and soft breaths leaving his mouth. Safely asleep in the passenger seat. So you let him sleep, pulling out your phone to occupy yourself until he stirs.

“Shit”, He says, voice groggy; “M’sorry.”

You shake your head; “Don’t be. You needed it.”

He stares at you, his jaw working like he’s thinking. Whatever it is he’s thinking about, he lets it go.

“How long was I out?”

You shrug; “Forty minutes, maybe.”

He doesn’t answer, just shifts in his seat before pushing his door open, looking back at you as he uses his crutches to lower himself out of the truck. A small hint of a smile on the corners of his lips.

“Cmon, it’s warmer inside.”

Jack’s apartment—or rather condo—is nicer than yours. Of course it should be with his attending salary. The outside is nice, each unit looking fairly similar. Inside is just as you’d expect his place to be, furnished but too clean to be super lived in. Barely decorated other than a few pictures here and there, a key bowl by the door. A row of his shoes by the welcome mat.

You’re immediately struck by how much his place smells like him. Musky and warm. Something sweet lingering underneath. He drops his own bag down by the front door, making his way further into the living room.

“I’m gonna go shower”, He says, then stops, scratching the back of his head; “You’re welcome to use it after. Just uh—make yourself at home.”

You mumble a soft ‘thank you’ as he disappears down the hallway. You flop down on his couch, realizing it’s way comfier than yours. You order a pizza for the two of you, and by the time it arrives, Jack is reemerging from the hallway; hair still damp and fluffy.

You can’t help but think how domestic he looks like this. Pajama pants and a white t-shirt. His freckled arms and face more prominent. His face slightly more vibrant and awake, like the shower fixed everything for him.

“I ordered a pizza for us, I hope that’s ok”, You tell him.

He offers you a small smile as sits down on the other end of the couch, already reaching for a slice.

“That’s actually perfect, thank you.”

You eat in silence, the hum of his tv in the background. It’s not charged or awkward, but rather…comfortable in a way you’d only ever get with him. You clean up after, despite Jack insisting on helping, you force him to take it easy.

“I’m gonna take you up on that shower now, if that’s ok.”

He nods, telling you where everything is. That the handle to the hot water sometimes sticks so you have to wiggle it. But he lets you go, eyes lingering on where your frame previously stood for a beat too long.

His shower is warm, spacious, inviting. You let the hot water run over you, washing extra diligently to get rid of any remaining traces of the hospital. The butterflies in your stomach and chest flutter to life as it finally hits you where you are. Jack’s apartment. Alone. With Jack. The attending you’ve had a crush on since you started at PTMC all that time ago.

There’s a fresh fluffy towel waiting for you when you exit the shower, shaky hands wiping the condensation off the mirror. You look at yourself for a moment; tired, bags under your eyes. Normal after a long shift. But you can’t help but think of Jack, how tired he looked today, how much it still shows on his face. You decide tonight’s mission is about making him comfortable and well rested. Making sure he’s ok.

You move to get dressed, realizing with a defeated sigh that there’s only a pair of shorts left in your bag. The shirt being tossed in your hamper a few weeks prior after your scrubs got stained during your shift. You never put one back in to replace it.

Sighing, towel wrapped up around your torso you peek out through the bathroom door.

“Jack?”, You call.

There’s a grunt and the click of his crutches against the floor before he peers in the doorway.

“Is everything ok? What’s wrong?”, Always too quick to worry.

“I um—I only had extra shorts in my bag…”

A look of realization flashes across his face as he nods, moving to dig through one of his drawers.

“Oh, that’s ok. You can borrow one of mine”, He fishes out an old grey shirt, the words ‘ARMY’ written across the front.

You hesitate, but he shakes his hand once, offering the shirt again, a laugh leaving his lips; “Cmon, I won’t bite.”

You finally take the shirt from him, smiling sheepishly as you disappear back into the bathroom. You slip the shirt—that smells ridiculously like him—over your head, brushing out your damp hair before pulling it up. When you open the door, Jack’s in his bed, already under the covers with his tv on.

You don’t see how Jack stops breathing for a moment at the sight of you in his shirt, heart beating against his ribcage as he searches for words, anything at all to say.

You stuff your scrubs back into your back before tossing it to the floor, hovering next to the bed awkwardly before clearing your throat.

“Well, I guess I’ll let you sleep. I’ll be on the couch if you need me”, You go to leave the room when his hand on your wrist stops you.

“Wait”, He says, looking up at you with those puppy dog hazel eyes, “Stay.”

You open your mouth but no words come out, so you force them; “I don’t want to intrude.”

Jack chuckles; “Don’t be silly. It’s a queen bed, plenty of room…Cmon, please?”

You sigh; “Ok.”

His bed is comfier than yours, feeling your body sink down into the mattress as soon as your back hits it. Jack’s scent surrounding you as he gently pulls the covers up to your waist. You leave enough room for another person between the two of you, fiddling with your hands under the comforter as he watches tv.

It stays like that for a while, just comfortable silence and his presence next to you. An occasional soft laugh rumbling from his chest. As the sun starts to rise he clicks the tv off, wiggling around a little to get himself comfortable. Then he inches closer to you—his head finding its way to rest against your torso—arms around your waist.

Your breath hitches at the sudden contact, the feeling of his calloused hands against your skin burning like fire in the best possible way. You tense under him for just a second, before letting go of the breath you were holding.

“Is this—is this ok?”, His question comes softly, voice quiet as you feel him move, scruff scratching against your—well his—shirt.

“Yeah”, you say, cause damn he was warm. Inviting and safe.

You let your fingers find his salt and pepper curls, raking through them softly. You feel his lashes flutter shut, a deep sigh leaving his nose as his muscles relax. Just one soft touch, and the grumpy attending was relaxing into you.

“I’m sorry”, He finally says into the darkness; “About earlier.”

You force him to look at you, guiding him by his chin.

“I just want you to be safe, Jack”, You tell him, pushing a curl from his forehead; “You’re burning yourself out for everyone else. You need to take care of yourself too.”

He nods, another breath leaving through his nose.

“I hate the idea of you making yourself hurt just to meet expectations you think are there. I hate that you think so little of yourself that your own wellbeing doesn’t matter. I hate that I can’t fix it or-“

You don’t realize you’re crying until he brushes his thumbs across your cheeks, wiping the stray tears away.

“Shh, hey…”, His voice soothes you, a brief hesitation before he pressed his forehead to yours, just for a moment. Silence in the air except for your breaths intertwining, eyes closed before you look at him again.

“You matter so much. Let me take care of you”, Your voice hits his ears suddenly, making him freeze.

He looks up at you again, eyes wide and chest heaving with each breath.

“I mean it, Jack”, You add, “Been wanting to since day one.”

You feel his body move on the mattress, his body hovering next to you now. He reaches a hand up to cup the side of your face, calloused thumb rubbing against your soft skin again. You remind yourself to breathe as he gets closer, stopping just before your noses touch.

“Can I?”, He asks softly, eyes searching your face like you’ll disappear if he moves too fast.

“Please”, and the next thing you know his lips are on yours.

It’s soft, tentative, not rushed. Just two people finally connecting in a way their hearts knew they needed to long before their brains caught up. All the longing and glances across the ED, the coffees and sandwiches from the break room, the lingering touches, all lead to this.

You almost want to protest when he pulls away, but the way he looks into your eyes would have your knees buckling if you were standing.

“Ok”, He says softly, breath hitting your face as he answers your earlier question.

Then he’s lying down again, head against your stomach and freckled arms around your waist. Pulling you in closer than before. You let your fingers find his curls again, feeling another sigh against your shirt as he lifts it up just an inch or two—before pressing his lips softly to your skin, almost a ghosting—but still enough to send shivers down your spine. You listen to his breathing even out, fingers not leaving his hair until you’re sure he’s out. Every fiber of your being screaming how much you want to take care of him and keep him safe. You knew then you were absolutely fucked, and so did he.

With a soft brush of a finger against his temple you knew he was asleep, letting your hand settle softly against his skin. Then quietly, into the darkness of his room;

“I’ve got you, Jack.”

so now here you are, in jack abbot's house, your bosses house. being eaten out against the door. your dress is hitched up to your hips, purse thrown on the floor while he's on his knees—which is definitely not good on his knee—with his nose and mouth deep in your pussy.

he just couldn't wait till you guys got to his room, he's been needing to have a taste of you. and you didn't disappoint at all. as sweet and tasty as he's imagined every night in his bed with his cock in his hand. he really can't believe he's finally tasting you.

“jackkk!” you mewl, hips bucking against his face as your hands tug on his curls. “so good..so fuckin' good baby.” you can hear and feel him say against you. the vibrations almost sending you over the edge. and when he finally pulls away? you whine, chest heaving as you watch him straighten up. “come on lets go to bed..” he grabs your waist, guiding you around his house to his bedroom. internally cussing himself out for not being able to carry you, but he doesn't exactly trust his prosthetic, not after putting a strain on it.

once inside his room, he presses his lips against you. allowing you to taste yourself in his tongue. your hands go up and down his chest, feeling his hard muscles and his tummy. “jack...” you moan out, being awfully needy.

but how you could you not? the same guy that you been fantasizing about since you joined the pitt. “i know sweetheart i know...” he coos into your mouth, gently placing you down on the bed, his thick fingers working on your back to take your zipper down.

you shiver, hands clenching around his biceps. he works slowly, painstakingly so to take your dress off, his eyes trailing up and down your body. once the dress is on the floor, he pulls away to take his shirt and pants off.

you can feel yourself getting wetter by the second. he's so big, thick. you can see his print in his grey boxers. it makes you so weak. he crawls over you, his broad frame covering you almost completely as you wrap your arms around his neck. “ill show you a good night.” he whispers, smirking while placing wet kisses on your jaw and down to your chest.

he doesn't really bother getting you prepared, he did that minutes ago against the door. he simply takes his cock out of his boxers, slapping his tip against your clit. the rush of pride he feels when hearing your tiny gasps is a bit pathetic. but he continues, prodding your entrance with his tip.

“jackieee please please-” you whine, tugging at his hair again. god, you're making him discover new things about himself with the way he gets harder each time u tug at his hair. “stop being such a fuckin' tease..”

he smirks even more, one hand next to your head, gripping the bed sheets. “you dont have to beg me to fuck you,” he slams into you, burying his face into your neck. “im going to.” you gasp against his shoulder, nails clawing at his back. his pace is relentless from the start, working his mouth against your neck while pounding into you.

if you werent already dumb down by his cock, you would think you're in heaven with the way he's moaning, whimpering and groaning into your ear. it doesn't help that he's incredibly warm, so you're actively going limp in his arms while he fucks you.

“god sweetheart im so–” he lifts his head up, rough hand wrapping around your neck. you moan louder, eyes rolling back. a breathless laugh escapes his lips, dropping his head back beside your head. “you're so fucking tight baby. i can feel you squeezing me.”

you moan in response, hands leaving his back to wrap around his wrist. “you want my cock that bad, baby? tell me how bad you want it.” he's talking so filthy, he's never talked like that. not with his wife (may she rest in peace) or with the random girls he hooked up with after his wife's passing.

you babble, you fucking babble because you're so fucked out. “dirty girl...” he breathes against your cheek, face smooshed against yours. he's sloppy now, chasing your and his orgasm while trying to keep his composure enough to keep talking to you. “squeezing my cock like a good girl. such a good girl, my girl.”

he groans, unwrapping his hand around your neck to pull you closer into his arms. your face smooshing against his chest for him to be able to hold you as he pleases. "i can feel you squeezing me. you're close, arent you baby?”

you nod helplessly against his chest, nails digging into his sides as your moans turn muffled against his chest. “come with me, together.” with one final, sloppy thrust, you both come. the room is filled with whimpers from both of you, the bed stops creaking as he peppers kisses against yours forehead.

“you did so good, so good sweetheart.” he whispers against your forehead, slowly pulling out of you. his seed spills out of you, his fingers scooping it up to put it back inside. “you took me so well.” he continues praising you, causing you to smile. although very weakly.

you're both lucky you're on the pill, with how much he released into you you're sure you could've gotten pregnant immediately. he raises his head, rough, clammy hand brushing your hair out of your face. “dont get soft on me, old man.” you let out weakly, trying to regain energy.

“soft on you?” he says roughly, spreading your legs again, hooking them over his shoulders. “i told you ill show you a fun night, didnt i?” he leans down, causing you to whimper.

right now was one of those moments.

you were helping dr ellis with a 6 year old who had ended up in the ER with a broken leg. he was flailing around quite destructively in an attempt to fight off the needles and medical equipment.

the room was loud and small, and everything happened in one quick moment, so much so it took you a second to realise you were on the floor.

the boy had kicked you with his good leg. the surprising amount of force sent you flying against the wall, hitting an IV pole on the way down.

you had only registered the throbbing on the back of your head and the cut on your arm when you had steadied yourself back up.

ellis insisted you leave to go patch yourself up, and after a lot of back and forth, you relented and attempted to slip away to an empty exam room.

unfortunately for you, your boyfriend intercepted you on the way.

“hey, sweetheart!” he called out down the hall, squinting and frowning when he approached you and took in your appearance.

jack raised an eyebrow and looked you up and down before almost jumping up into place. “are you bleeding? what happened?!” he demanded instantly, grabbing your shoulder and practically dragged you to an exam room.

“it was an accident.” you began to explain. “it was an agitated little kid, he accidentally kicked me. i got launched into the wall.” you murmured, giving jack a half hearted smile as he gave you a stern glare.

he began his clinical checks, checking your vitals and pupils, hands gentle as ever as he held you steady. “shit, did you hurt your head? your hair is bloody.” jack said firmly.

“yeah, i did. but i’m fine!” you were quick to reassure him, but he didn’t listen. his eyes were determined and worried as he worked to check if there was truth to your words.

it took jack twenty minutes to ensure you were okay. the excessive treatment was more for him than it was you.

you had a bandage over the cut on your arm and your head had luckily ended up not being serious. jack seemed satisfied with your condition when you laughed at one of his stupid jokes.

“i’m glad you’re okay, honey. i was really worried for a minute.” he said seriously looking at you with what could only he described as pure devotion.

you smiled weakly, shrugging at his words. “i’m tough. toughest nurse you know.” you joked, leaning up on your toes to kiss his cheek.

you two were never really openly affectionate at work, but it was nice to feel the comfort and familiarity of your secure relationship once and awhile.

but even when you were quiet, you both knew you loved each other.

little did you both know, dana and robby were watching you both from the central station.

“god, i love the way he looks at her.” dana sighed. robby chuckled and shook his head. “you’re not even apart of the relationship.”

“i don’t care. i’ve never seen jack care so much.” dana argued, smiling at you when you caught her eye.

you weren’t surprised he was so mad. it had gotten stressful in the ER earlier, and you had nearly cost someone their life because you hadn’t consulted jack before administering medicine.

you had both gotten into a full blown argument in the middle of the hall where you had to be split up before it got any worse.

it was safe to say dating in the workplace wasn’t always a good idea.

but jack abbot was a weak man. even when he planned on ignoring you until you admitted you were wrong, he still couldn’t stay away from you. there was a reason he broke HR rules.

“j- jack, oh my god.” you moaned, steadying yourself by grabbing onto his shoulders. “slow down.”

jack didn’t respond or slow down. he normally would have, but you had a safe word for a reason.

“jack!” you whined. your cunt clenched tightly on his thick cock as he bounced your hips to meet his.

“you didn’t listen to me earlier, why should i listen to you now?” he growled in frustration.

you huffed and shook your head but didn’t verbally respond. your body grew weak as you neared your climax, nails leaving marks on his shoulder.

right before you got to finish, jack abruptly pulled out of you, leaving your pussy needing and desperate. “jack? what the fuck!” you gasped, watching the amused smirk grace his face.

“you don’t get to cum unless you apologise.” he said slowly, reaching his hand down to fist his own cock. “admit you were wrong.”

you felt like you were at a loss. on one hand, you truly believed that the decision had been necessary even if it was extremely risky, on the other, you really wanted jack to let you finish.

“baby.. baby, i’m sorry. i’m sorry. i was wrong. i should have come to you first. i thought it was the right decision.” you pleaded needily, biting your lip as you waited for him to answer.

after a few long moments of consideration, he sighed and pulled you back onto his lap.

“please just come to me next time, sweetheart. it could have been way more serious.” jack mumbled seriously before easing back into you.

you nodded through the pleasure, rutting against him in relief. “‘m gonna cum, fuck!”

“there you go, sweetheart. i’ve got you.” jack moaned before pressing a kiss to your neck and spilling inside of you.

Jack Abbot was normal. He was fine. He was definitely not seething watching you dance with friends. The problem with dating the hottest woman in existence was that he couldn’t exclusively monopolize your time. He barely knew anyone at this wedding, it was your friend’s wedding.

She had too many sisters to have you as a bridesmaid and in the comfort and secrecy of your bedroom you had whispered to him that you just didn’t have it in you to be in so many weddings—most of your twenties had been spent traveling around the country to be in friends’ weddings.

Now, he was watching you in a gorgeous plum dress dancing around barefoot with girls you’ve known for over a decade. Some of their husbands were tolerable. Your best friend and her husband were here. Most of the time Ted was fine. Drunk Ted cared a lot about golf and Jack, drunk or sober, couldn’t give a shit.

When P!nk’s “So What” ended you meandered back over to Jack and to his surprise (and delight), collapsed in his lap.

“I’m sorry,” you mumbled. “I’m a little tipsy.”

“So I see,” he replied, lightly pushing your hair back away from your face. Your nice hairdo had long since come unraveled and kept falling in your face.

“I like you so much,” you said leaning into him.

“You don’t love me?” He asked with a smile on his face. You snorted.

“Of course I love you. But I also like you.”

“Thanks?”

“I don’t think all my friends like their husbands,” you whispered a little too wet in his ear. He had to resist the urge to push you away to wipe it off.

“What makes you say that?”

“Take me back to the hotel and I’ll tell you,” you said laying your head on his shoulder. It definitely didn’t look comfortable, largely speaking to your exhaustion. You had been dancing and jumping with your friends for multiple hours.

“C’mon, babe,” he said shifting your legs off his lap.

“Ugh,” you groaned standing again. “I need to tell Claire goodnight.”

“I’ll get our stuff,” he said.

The send off had been a few hours ago, before the elderly relatives had left. Now, it was just a fun party with friends. He loved watching you light up and enjoy being around your people. He loved his people, but they were far more subdued than yours.

Across the dance floor you approached your friend who threw her arms around you with heartfelt but drunken balance and coordination. It made his heart swell, watching how happy you were. Fuck, he loved making you happy. All he wanted in life was to make each day just a little easier; he wanted to do his best to make you happy.

By the time you’d extricated yourself from your friend’s embrace and made your way back to him, Jack had a hold of your purse and coat. He also had already dug your ugly Birkenstocks out of your purse so you didn’t have to put your heels back on.

“Fuck you’re so good to me,” you said, holding onto him while you slipped the shoes on.

“Well if that’s all it takes,” he replied, helping you into your coat.

He kept a hold of your bag when walking out to the parking lot. Just like his mother taught him, he held the door open on the rental car and shut it gently behind you. When he got into the drivers seat, you had dug your water bottle out of your purse.

“Ugh, I’m already sobering up,” you complained.

“So you don’t want drunk fast food?”

You gasped dramatically. “Do you kiss your mother with that dirty mouth?”

Jack laughed and grabbed your hand as he turned out of the parking lot heading back to the hotel.

“What did you mean earlier about your girlfriends not liking their husbands?” He asked pulling into a greasy fast food joint. It rarely mattered which one as the point was disgusting food.

Once the French fries and chicken and burgers had been acquired, Jack pulled into a parking spot towards the back of the lot. One of the first things you both discovered you’d had in common was growing up in small towns. It meant that you both had fond memories of idling car conversations and the occasional makeout. Even now, a long away from your teen years, you both adored your post party ritual.

“So,” you began, curling your legs up. “Abigail, not technically my friend, but she’s a good time. Was talking to me about how glad she was that her husband couldn’t come and that was fucking bonkers to me. Why would you marry someone you don’t like?”

“You would be sad if I couldn’t come?”

“Sure, I like spending time with you. It’s not like it would ruin it for me, I basically barely hung out with you tonight, but it’s fun coming back and kissing you before dancing to Pitbull songs with everyone.”

“I think that’s a compliment,” he laughed.

“But seriously!” You said nudging him. “I like being around you. It’s fun. You’re just as fun as my friends.”

“Even though I can’t dance with the energy of a drunk college girl?”

“Even then,” you laughed. “Hear anything good with the spouses?”

“Ted likes golf,” Jack sighed.

“God he’s so boring,” you laughed. “But she needs boring after the shit head she used to be married to.”

“Do your friends think I’m boring?”

You scoffed. “No, they think you’re a crazy adrenaline junky, not boring. Did you notice the groom’s sister had a fucking weird speech?”

For the next hour you both sat in the car, eating food that would clog your arteries and gossiping about the wedding. It was life giving and comforting in ways you never wanted to lose. You’d had this with friends but Jack was the first man you’d ever dated who wanted to do stupid shit with you. He wanted to go to weddings of people he didn’t know. He wanted to sit in a slightly too heated car talking shit about speeches. He wanted to do nothing and everything with you.

“What’s that look?” Jack asked.

“I dunno,” you sighed. “I just really fucking like you.”

“Yeah?”

“Mm-hmm.”

“I really fucking like you, too,” he said. “Even if you dance like a baby giraffe.”

“Fuck off!”

When you both got back to the hotel, Jack helped you search for the various pins hidden somewhere in your hair.

“You’re so pretty,” he said mouth at your bare shoulder.

“Are you trying to get in my pants, Dr. Abbot?”

“You’re not wearing pants,” he said, bracketing your body against the counter of the bathroom. “You are, however, wearing a gorgeous dress I’ve wanted to peel off with my teeth all night.”

“Your teeth, huh?” You asked making eye contact with him in the mirror.

“God I’ve wanted to touch you so bad all night,” he whispered in your ear, pressing a soft kiss right near your hairline.

“You look so good in that suit,” you grumbled, pushing your ass back against his groin. “Kept coming back to kiss you so everyone knew you were mine.”

Jack’s eyes fluttered closed as he buried his face in your neck. Being wanted by you was intoxicating. Knowing that you coveted him as much as he coveted you was more than enough to turn him on. He could feel the ghost of your cunt clenching around him. It had been two weeks since he last fucked you. Both of your jobs had been hectic.

But now, in the privacy of the too expensive hotel room, he had you at his mercy.

“Look at me baby,” he said softly against your ear, relishing in how you shivered against him. “All mine, right?”

“Only yours,” you breathed. “I’ve missed your hands.”

He ran his hands from your thighs up your dress to cup your tits. The strapless dress was held up by tape and some intricate ties in the back. He pulled the tape off your chest gently and then yanked the fabric down under your tits, bra and all. You looked so good. In the dim light of the bathroom, he drank in your heedy gaze.

“Beautiful,” he said attacking your neck again.

Having you in his bed for so long, meant Jack knew just how to kiss you and play with your chest to make you soaked. It’s like he had a cheat code to turning you on. It helped that most of the night had been subtle foreplay between you both. During dinner his hand was definitely too high on your thigh but he couldn’t bear to move it.

“Fuck, baby, take me to bed. It’s cold as shit in here,” you groaned.

“Anything for you,” he said. “How hard do you want tonight?”

“Rough,” you replied.

He wove his fingers through your hair, close to the roots and pulled. He drug you back into the main room and tossed you on the bed face first. Holding you down with one hand on your upper back, he slowly pulled the zipper of your dress down.

“Look at this sexy body,” he said. “All for me.”

You wiggled a little as he unhooked the strapless bra with one hand. It had taken him nearly a year to master, but it was one of his most used bedroom skills. Letting you go, he pulled off the dress harshly, taking your underwear with it. Then you were face down on the bed, naked and already dripping for him.

You had arched your back, preening under his gaze. With a sharp smack to the meaty part of your glute, he watched you jump and settle back into your skin. A few more spanks and he quickly shoved his fingers inside you making you gasp.

He loved all the noises and movements you made during sex. For the duration of your relationship, he had been making a running catalog of how to get you to do a sound or movement. While he harshly fingered you, enjoying the way you squirmed under him, he began unbuckling his belt and pants.

“Feel good, baby?”

“Fuck me, please,” you panted against the comforter.

Shoving his pants down just low enough let out his dick, he pulled his fingers out of you and rubbed your wetness along his cock. Just the smell of you was sending him over the edge. He made sure to clamp down on your hips tightly, hoping to leave a bruise for you to enjoy, before careening his hips into yours aggressively.

There was a grunt as the air was knocked out of you. For a moment he paused, enjoying how you felt. Your cunt always felt so fucking good against his dick. You were so warm and wet and you clenched so beautifully when he spanked you. As much as he loved to be the one furiously fucking you, he also loved having you in charge.

He always enjoyed feeling your nails rake down his back. He was desperate to feel you closer against his skin, so while he had your hips pinned to the bed, he quickly ripped off his button up and undershirt so he could wrap his arm around your neck and pull you up against his body.

Once he felt you against his chest, he began to thrust ferociously against your cunt. He loved how it fluttered and the grunts and groans you released as he harshly pounded into you.

“Fuck, baby,” Jack growled harshly. “You feel so good. Made for me. Carved for my fucking dick, isn’t that right?”

“Just for you,” you said breathlessly.

You were clutching onto the bicep his had wrapped around your neck (more so your chest than neck, but it had the same effect). He felt you meeting his thrusts sending shockwaves through both of you.

“I love it when you’re rough with me,” you heaved against his assault. “Harder, please.”

Your tone was always so breathy and almost whiny when you got worked up like this.

“Anything for my naughty girl. Do you like this dick pounding into you. Does it feel good to have someone treat you so meanly?”

“Fuuuck,” you groaned arching against his grasp more. “You feel so good inside of me.”

“You make me so fucking crazy, pretty girl,” he hissed against your ear. “Watching you tonight was like my own personal dream. The prettiest girl in the world dancing and jumping but always coming back to me. Can’t be without me can you?”

“No, I can’t,” you whined as one of Jack’s hands roughly kneaded your tits. “Your hands are so good.”

“Rub your clit for me, baby. I want to feel you cum on my dick. I’m going to fuck you so hard you can’t walk tomorrow.”

“Yes please,” you mumbled. He felt one of your hands leave its iron grasp on his arm. “You fill me up so good.”

Jack felt himself getting close so he pulled out and finished taking off his pants. Getting his prosthetic off quickly was a hard fought for skill, but he managed to push you flat on the bed covering your body with his own before slipping back inside of your warmth.

He wrapped his arm around your throat again and grinned at how you moaned wantonly.

“So pretty when you’re being used by me.”

“Please,” you managed.

“Prop your hips up, baby,” he said getting on his knees to allow you room.

The harsh sounds of him slamming into you filled the room while he kept whispering debauched things in your ear:

“You’re made for me and only me.”

“Using you feels so sweet.”

“Are you going to cum on my dick?”

“I’m so fucking deep, baby.”

“I’m going to make you cum so hard.”

He was so focused on making sure you came, he didn’t noticed how you turned your face.

“Please, daddy, harder,” you moaned.

His hips stuttered and to control himself, he bit into the muscle of your shoulder. He almost felt guilty for how hot he found your cry of pain to be.

“Rub your clit and say it again,” he mumbled against your skin.

Your hand snaked underneath your body, and gasping under his assault you said,

“Harder, daddy. I want to feel you cum inside me.”

“Fuck, baby,” he groaned.

He was so close when he felt the tell tale flutters of your cunt against him. He nearly wept with relief you finally were close enough for him to say,

“Cum on my dick, pretty girl. Show me how good I make you feel. Milk me. Milk daddy.”

You cried out as you tensed and gasped underneath him. He made sure to keep moving as you clenched against him until your shaking thighs collapsed. He continued his furious pace until he felt himself orgasm. It felt like he came forever. When he finally collapsed and rolled over next to you, he chest was heaving.

“Daddy, huh?” He asked.

“I don’t know where it came from,” you laughed. “But you clearly liked it.”

“Surprise for me, too,” he huffed. He pulled you against him, reveling in how your naked skin felt against his.

“You’re sweaty and hot,” you grumbled, nuzzling your face against his chest. It was said like a complaint but you weren’t moving away.

“So are you,” he laughed. You tweaked his nipple.

“I’m fresh as a daisy.”

He laughed and kissed the top of your head. “Want to shower first?”

“Yes please,” you said. “Will you keep me company?”

He snorted and nodded.

The accessible bathroom had a removable shower chair that he used while he waited for you. Unlike the shower at home, it wasn’t big enough for Jack, his shower chair, and you. So he watched as you tied your hair up and quickly rinsed off. He noticed your wince when you gently cleaned your vagina.

“Do you want me to check it?” He asked a little concerned.

“Nah, just sensitive. You did a good job.”

“Wow, did I get an A-plus in sex?”

“Fuck off,” you laughed.

While Jack showered, you began working through your nighttime routine. You took off whatever make up hadn’t been sweated off during the wedding or the following sex and washed your face. By the time Jack got out, you were brushing your teeth.

Before leaving the bathroom you kissed him and said, “I love you.”

“Wuv yew,” he said with his toothbrush in his mouth.

Using his crutches, he made his way back to the bed, pulling on a pair of clean boxers before sliding into bed with you. Like you always did, you slept on the side farthest from the door. It was one of the many things that lingered from the war. Jack wanted to be between you and anything unexpected.

He pulled you against him, in the dark, enjoying how warm and soft you were.

“A good night,” he mumbled.

“And good sex,” you said.

He laughed and closed his eyes, feeling so much love and affection for you leaking out of his chest.

“Hey,” you said after a while. “You awake?”

“Hmm?” Jack asked sleepy.

“I just really like you.”

Jack laughed softly. “I really like you, too.”

you lean down to place a kiss to the head of him, then another. then another and another while giggling as you think about how cute his pink tip is. you hear him sigh impatiently and you blink up at him through bleary eyes. "s-sorry *hic* soryy jackie- 's jus sooo pretty."

he runs a hand through his silver curls before reaching down to try and haul you off your knees. his arms grip under your armpits like how a parent picks up a toddler. " 's alright baby you don't have to. lets just go to sleep alright?"

but you squirm out of his hold and firmly plant yourself on your knees. pouting all serious now. "no! i can do it *hic* promise!" after a second of scanning your face for doubt, jack nods and settles back into the couch when all he finds is determination.

you wrap your manicured hand around his pretty cock, a lopsided grin forms on your face when you hears jack's breath catch. you prop your elbow on one of his spread knees and rest your cheek against your fist as you stroke him way too slowly due to time meaning nothing to you in your buzzed state of mind.

you don't even realize you're eye lids drooping until jack thrusts up into your hand with a rough, "cmon baby." you jolt upright instantly, swallowing down a drunken yawn before forcing yourself to focus on the task at hand. sweetly saying "sorry jackie."

you bend forward to lick him, a long stripe from base to tip that has you smacking your lips with a "mmmm tastes good." jack huffs a laugh thats snuffed out by a groan when you take him in your mouth.

one languid suck of his length has you feeling dizzy. but not the usual kind of dizziness that blooms from pleasure, the intoxicated kind. when you bob back up the world spins, you mumble jacks name weakly before your hands shoot out to grab at his thick thighs.

he straightens instantly, cursing as he grips your biceps, hard cock still standing at attention inches from your face. "no more." he grunts with a grimace on his wrinkled face, looking like he's about to try and move you from your spot again.

but he's so hard! and you told him you wanted to do this. and you still do. you love making him feel good and getting drunk was not going to stop you from doing so. you start to whine and shimmy out of his hold. " 'm jus too dizzy. *hic* help me please?" your lower lip wobbles and tears brim at your waterline. jack gives you a doting smile and strokes your hair, not being able to say no to you. "course i can sweetheart."

thinking he's gonna fuck your face, you form an 'o' and go to take him back in your mouth. you squeak in surprise when jack grips your hair and gently tugs you back to look up at him. he chides "nuh uh baby. dont wan't you gettin' nauseous." before you can even argue he lays his thumb on your tongue and drags it outwards. "lemme do all the work. stick that tongue out. good girl- just like that."

you giggle at the praise, shifting on your knees so he has a better view of you all glossy eyed and pliant for him. jack takes himself in his vein covered hand and starts to leisurely stroke. watching him touch himself has your cheeks heating and thighs squirming. "jackiee" you whine, for nothing in particular.

but he just shakes his head as his movements speed up, grunting as he twists his wrist at the tip. "don't worry baby. just sit there and look pretty- fuck- y'so pretty sweetheart." after however long -you're so wasted you couldn't say- his jaw clenches and his thighs tense and you can tell he's getting close.

you see his aged face pinch as he squeezes the thick base with his hand while staring at you wide eyed for him. your hands start to feel real useless. so you reach out to grip his balls to help! he groans loudly as you start to massage them in your soft palm.

"fuck- just like that- doin so good-" his praises have you sober the tiniest bit, enough to lean forward and dribble some spit onto his glistening tip. jack throws his head back in a broken moan before gluing his blown out eyes back to yours. "gonna cum- tongue out f'me. now."

you obey him, instantly rewarded by the sound of jack cumming, groaning your name along with a string of lewd praises. "oooh fuck- fuck baby- so good. you're so good-" he tilts his hips forward as his hand jerks himself rapidly, his salty release spraying you from your extended tongue, to your smudged mascara covered cheeks, to the tip of your nose. he only collapses when you're entirely painted in his cum, slowly blinking down at you. his chuckle at your huge grin and sticky face is weak and satisfied.

you stick your tongue out to start to lick up his release but he stops you by successfully picking you up and dropping you on the couch. "leave it." he demands as he makes his way down your body to spread your legs with his large palms.

you set your brush down and rose from your seat, making your way behind him. you pressed yourself against his back and wrapped your arms around him, your hands barely meeting at his belly. then you rested your cheek against the beef of his arm. 

you looked at him seriously through the mirror. “jack–” you started before he interrupted you, “i’m not complaining, just noticing.” 

he continued, “it’s just. . .not exactly comfortable, especially when we move around a lot. we’re in the emergency department — it’s like a medical survival show.” 

you laughed softly, you agreed. you were ready to admonish him for talking down to himself, you were happy that was not the case. he would be always attractive and sexy in your eyes. 

his growing belly excited you so much you didn’t realise you’d started running your hands languidly up and down, kneading and squeezing the fat.

jack looked down to your hands, raising a curious eyebrow. he felt your chest release heavy breaths, he turned his attention back to the mirror. there was a distant look in your eyes, glazed over. your mouth slightly agape. huh. 

“uhh, hon? should we head out?”

you snapped out of it at the sound of his deep voice. when you came to, you saw him sporting a tiny smirk. you felt your face heat up with embarrassment. 

jack started to connect the dots throughout the night — the way you stared at his stomach when he clasps his hands behind his back during handovers, the gentle pats of praise for his good calls, and, again. . .the containers of food you brought that could be shared between three people, all somehow ending up all for him.

it never occurred to him until now, you’d completely conditioned him into eating more than he usually did. oh well, you wormed your way to his heart through his stomach.

as soon as you locked the door after you got home, jack pulled you into a tight embrace. he’d done it on purpose, holding you against him until you felt his soft belly getting squished between you. you tried really hard to stop the small whimper that escaped you, but he heard it. cat’s out of the bag now. 

“anything you wanna tell me, sweetheart?” 

“umm. . .” you could sense blood rush to your face with humiliation again. how could you possibly confess the dirty stuff you want to do to his belly? you stood there quiet and frozen in place. you wanted to separate yourself from his grasp, run to the bedroom you share with him, and lock yourself in. 

but jack had voiced it out for you. “i saw you eyeing my stomach.” he ran his palms slowly over the exposed skin of your arms, trying to soothe you. “it’s okay. you like it that much?”

“you like that it’s getting bigger? you like seeing the result of your care and how much you love me?” he continued talking, “fuck, baby. . . now that i’m thinking about it, the way you take care of me is making me sooo fucking hard.” 

you gasped at his crudity. he suddenly held one of your wrists and placed your hand on the top of the fat, then he led it downwards to his raging hard on. the sound of your whiny moan made his hips buck up. 

he rested his forehead against yours, you could feel his heavy pants fan on your lips. jesus, he’s really horny. 

“s-show me. fuck—” he didn’t stop thrusting into your hand, he just kept going. “please, baby. please— show me what you wanna do to me.” he sounded absolutely pathetic begging you, and you fucking love it. you could feel yourself soak through your underwear and pants. 

“use me.” 

you instantly dropped to your knees, you bunched his scrub top and undershirt up until his tummy was revealed to you. you peppered it with open-mouthed kisses, licked it, bit it, sucked a hickey on it — all the while keeping your eye on jack completely losing his mind. 

you were never good with talking dirty, instead you showed it through your actions.

you tugged his pants and boxers down, the heaviness of his cock slapping against the plush of his belly. it was, by far, the sexiest sight you’d ever seen. 

you gave him one last kiss on the side of his gut before you enveloped the tip of his cock with your mouth. there was no teasing or patience — you pushed yourself towards the base until you could feel your lips kissing his mound. 

jack never pressured you into taking all of him, he could cum just by licking on his tip alone. but you wanted to make him feel good and hear him praise you for being such a good girl.

most of all, you wanted to feel the fat of his stomach pressing against your forehead. you squeezed the flesh with your hands, so you could get closer to him as much as possible. if you could choose a way to go, this was it — death by suffocation due to his growing belly. maybe next time you could ask him to fuck your mouth like a fleshlight whilst you lie on the bed.

you pulled away before ramming his dick inside your mouth again a couple more times. your top had darkened because it was drenched with your spit. at some point, you involuntarily started to hump the air. you could reach your orgasm just by sucking him off. 

jack had to forcefully pull away, stumbling back, and would’ve fallen on his ass if you hadn’t help stabilise himself. he didn’t want to shoot his load yet, he badly wanted to see what else you’d do to him. 

you two had stripped down to nothing along the way. you were sitting on the meat of jack’s thighs and started bouncing on his cock. you placed your hands on his belly, in awe of the way the movement of your hips caused it to ripple. 

jack held on to your waist, watching you stare at his abdomen. something awakened inside of him, he adjusted the position of his lower limbs, bended his knees, and rested the soles of his feet on the mattress. he started to pound himself into you, meeting you halfway. the ripples turned into stronger waves, making you moan out loud and sinking your nails into the flesh. 

he brought one of his hands to his mouth — biting the back of it as he groaned at the combination of pleasure and pain. his voice was muffled when he grunted, “i’m cumming, baby. shit–! i’m– cumming!”

he was surprised when you pulled yourself out because he’d always cum inside of you. he didn’t have the opportunity to question you as he could not stop his release, making a mess all over his tummy. 

you were almost at your peak as well, you rolled your hips against his belly — your wetness mixed with jack’s seed were used as lubricant to easily rub your clit on him. 

“jesus fucking christ.” jack quietly muttered to himself, the scene was making his flaccid dick harden again. “yeah. . . make it messier, baby. make yourself cum on it.”

your body jolted, convulsing in shockwaves. jack could feel your hole clenching and more of your juices leaking out of you. the real thing was even better than you could ever imagine, you’d been humping your pillow wishing it was jack instead. 

you dismounted from jack’s body to position yourself at his side, you bent forward to start gently lapping on your mixed fluids saturating his skin. you took your time cleaning him up while he watched, adoring. today, you made him feel more loved and cherished. ♡

You had been charting for what felt like hours, though it had merely been twenty minutes that consisted of you re-reading the same ten words over and over. You could hear distant footsteps and voices from every direction, with the occasional beep of a machine finding a way to occupy the limited space in your mind.

A gentle hand being placed on your shoulder snapped your attention back to the environment around you, as you looked over your shoulder to find a familiar smile looking down on you.

His salt and pepper curls frizzed out in every direction and fluffed up around his face to exhibit the constant running of his fingers through his hair.

His body seemed to move slower than normal in exhaustion as he crouched down to meet your eyes from where you were sitting behind the nurses station.

"Hey, hon. Just wrapping up, wanna head out soon?" Jack asked with heavy, tired eyes. You could only imagine how similar yours looked.

You nodded at him as you spoke, "Yeah 'course. Just finishing a couple charts." His rough, warm hand began to rub up and down your arm as he gave you a gentle smile that barely met his eyes.

He muttered an okay, before giving your arm a light squeeze and standing to go back to whatever he needed to do.

Jack knew that you were exhausted. Knew that you were beyond exhausted.

You couldn't sleep the whole day before your shift. Of course, Jack laid next to you the whole time, trying to tire you out and comfort you in any way he could. But from rubbing your back with his calloused hands to going on a walk with you in the middle of his interrupted sleep, nothing seemed to work.

You sighed and rested your cheek against your palm, holding yourself up in any way you could to finish your work.

It always made you feel guilty to know that you kept Jack up with your lack of sleep, but he always insisted that there was nothing he'd rather do than be with you and take care of you.

Which is exactly what he did after you had finally clocked out for the night.

He followed you into the changing rooms as you slowly lifted your charcoal scrubs over your head, leaving you in nothing but a bra and pants with frizzy hair from the lengthy shift.

As he took off his own shirt, his eyes wandered over to where you stood, checking on you and admiring you all in one glance.

Jack always thought you were the most beautiful thing to ever exist, even when you claimed you were anything but.

He simply adored you and everything you did.

Before your clean shirt found its way over your head, Jack grabbed onto your waist and pulled you into him. You let out a gentle grunt at the unexpected contact, but melted into his bare chest nonetheless. He wrapped his arms tightly around you as yours found their way around his waist.

"You're so beautiful." He muttered into your hair, gently rocking you side to side.

You scoffed, "Oh please, I look like shit." You stated, referring to your current state of fatigue and overexertion.

"You could never look like shit", he sighed with a light press of his lips to your head, "You're perfect. My sweet girl."

You hummed at his words, tilting your head up and resting your chin onto his chest, finding his eyes with your own.

"I love you, baby." You pouted, making him chuckle and move his hand to rest on the side of your cheek.

"I love you too, sweetheart." He said, leaning in to press a firm kiss against your lips. You both sighed into the kiss, cherishing the first peaceful moment you two had all night. "Let's get out of here, yeah?"

You nodded and pulled away to finish changing into your clothes, taking his hand as you walked out of the changing room with all of your belongings.

As you got to his truck in the parking lot, Jack opened the door for you and held your hand as you climbed inside.

From finding small ways to take care of you (even when it’s something you could easily do yourself), to showing you off as if you were the most precious thing on Earth, Jack made sure you knew you were loved in any and every way he could.

As Jack began to back up out of the parking spot, your eyes found his demeanor and noticed how he looked just as tired as you, if not worse.

His eyes drooped with sleep and his shoulders hung low, yet here he was, taking care of you as if he wasn't just as near collapse.

You frowned and wrapped your arm around his bicep, letting your head fall down to rest on his shoulder.

He glanced down at the contact before pressing a kiss on the top of your head, turning his eyes back to the road.

For the rest of the drive home, you stayed wrapped around his arm and resting on his shoulder, softly humming to the music being played on the radio.

Every few minutes Jack would glance down as you, taking it in and smiling, even though you couldn't see him.

As he pulled into the driveway you sat up, stretching your arms over your head and exhaling. He stepped out of the car and walked over to the passenger side, opening your door and helping you out, like he always did.

The sun had already begun to rise but the brisk morning air still nipped at your cheeks as you both made your way into the house.

His warm hand stayed laced with your own, solid and gentle all at once.

You kicked off your shoes and immediately flopped onto the couch, letting out a loud sigh.

"Quite the shift, huh?" He joked, sitting next to you and placing a hand on your thigh.

"Yeah something like that." You mutter, letting your head fall back and your eyes close.

"How 'bout we get ready for bed then, hm?" Jack took your hand, pulling you up to stand after a few moments of protest.

He walked you into your room, before sitting you on the bed and turning to the en suite bathroom to turn on the shower.

As he walked back in, you couldn't fight the smile on your lips.

"What?" He chuckled, leaning down to remove his prosthetic, while you grabbed his crutch next to the bed.

"I got so lucky with you." You said, walking over and swapping him, prosthetic for crutch.

"Oh, sure." He rolled his eyes.

"No seriously, Jack." You said firmly, taking his free hand in yours, stopping him from turning back to the bathroom, "You are so good to me."

He shook his head and let go of your hand to place his palm against your cheek, "I'm just giving you what you deserve."

He pressed a light kiss to your forehead before walking with you to the shower, removing his clothes and taking a seat on his shower chair that he always insisted was 'unnecessary' (but he used it everyday anyway).

Stepping into the shower, you let the steam envelop your skin in a warmth that merely mimicked the heat you felt in your chest from being around Jack.

As the hot water rose around you and created a dense fog, your sight immediately drifted back to the man sitting in front of you.

Jack smiled at you and patted his thigh, urging you to sit on his lap.

Obliging, you let your knees fall atop his thighs and around the chair, before tilting your head to press a solid kiss against his lips.

He groaned and moved his hand to the back of your head, pulling you in farther while tangling his fingers into your hair.

When you pulled apart to catch your breath, he rested his forehead against yours.

"I'm so proud of you." He said, opening his eyes to look into yours. The speckles in his brown eyes captured yours with a million unspoken words of admiration and devotion while his hands held your body and face like you could slip away at any given moment and he was refusing to let you do so.

You frowned before leaning back into him as the water ran down your back and continued to fog up the space around you.

And he kissed you like the world was ending.

His lips pressed to yours with every ounce of passion you could ever comprehend.

His hand on your back slid lower, pulling you tighter into him while he slightly opened his mouth against yours. Your tongues found their way to one another, pressing into each other and exchanging all the words you didn't need to say aloud.

Once you finally pulled away, he didn't move a muscle. He just held you there.

His head rested on your shoulder as he left warm, wet kisses all across your neck and shoulder. Though his hands stayed where they were before, cradling your head and back.

"Hey, Jack?" You spoke into his hair.

"Yes, sweetheart?" Another kiss to your neck.

"Promise me this will never change?"

He paused, looking up at you.

"Baby you are all that I am," his hand moved to rest upon your cheek, "I don't know where, or how, but I know that this will always be."

And so he held you through another night,

promising you,

showing you,

letting his grace remind you how to find your own,