Royai among other things

Mel was having one of those days. The kind where nothing could seem to go right—when she’d woken up thirty minutes late because she’d slept through her alarm, rushing to shower and the water ran cold halfway through. She’d dropped her toothbrush on the floor, smacking her head on the counter after reaching to grab it. Mel tried not to let it put a damper on her mood. She didn’t like to be in a bad mood when she worked, she didn’t want it to set the tone for the shift.

She had gotten dressed with minimal struggle, pulling her scrub pants and tying them at the waist. She’d braided her hair quickly, brushing out the small tangles while it was still wet. The next steps were easy, grab something to eat and head out the door. She was lucky enough to have enough time to sort through the cabinets for something she really wanted.

Only when she found the box of granola bars, she leaned to grab it, quickly coming to discover a light box that held nothing inside of it. Mel squeezed her eyes shut, trying desperately not to scream. How many times had she told Becca to throw out the empty boxes?

Mel liked to think that overall, she was generally a patient person. She could deal with overbearing parents in the ER who refused to move despite her repeatedly asking, she could sit on the phone for thirty minutes to wait for a representative—no problem! But the day was clearly trying to prove her wrong.

And the worst of it? The first text she’d gotten that morning was from Frank, pretty typical, only the components of the text lacked their usual Good morning honey, and instead read Hey Mel, Abby’s sick and I have to drive the kids to school today. I don’t think I’ll have time to pick u up. I’ll make it up to you, promise.

To which Mel replied, Sure, fine.

Normally she wouldn’t have cared, but clearly there was something in the air that morning. Mel was fortunate enough to not bash her head into the wall before entering the hospital, immediately sprang with a case from Robby and giving her absolutely no time to mentally prepare herself.

Frank was ten minutes late, she realized. She quite literally had her hands full, a scalpel and some ointment when she’d spotted him walking in from the ambulance bay—the same way she usually entered the building with him. Mel tried, she really did, to push down the bubble of annoyance. She wasn’t mad at him for taking his kids to school, god no, that’d be insane, but every little thing had added up that morning, and she was suddenly feeling like her boyfriend was the fuse.

Probably not fair to him. Definitely not, actually. Mel knew it, forcing herself to focus. It was her fault, really, for depending on him for rides to work. She got too spoiled, too comfortable. And in the midst of her spiraling thoughts, her elbow had knocked over the tray and sent all of the items clashing to the floor.

The man she’d been working on before her turned sharply, giving her a look that practically screamed Do you even know what the hell you’re doing?

Which Mel tried very hard to ignore. She muttered an apology, quickly collected the scattered objects and told him she’d be right back. As she rushed through the department to reach the opposite room—the lounge—she could feel a set of eyes bearing into her, immediately making her feel heavy and more on the spot than she’d already been feeling.

She entered the lounge, pulling open the fridge door and grabbing the chai she’d stored in there from the previous day. It wasn’t as good as it was when she’d first ordered it, but Mel was desperate for something that could cheer her up.

And on cue, Frank Langdon walked into the lounge after her. Dressed in his usual black scrubs, stethoscope around his neck, a dark t-shirt peaking out from behind his low-collared shirt. His hair was the way she liked, not gelled and falling to his forehead. It was longer now, too, she’d told him she liked it one night, running her hands through the silky strands and listening to him exhale below her.

When she met his eyes, she wasn’t surprised to see that he was peering at her, concerned. She knew him well enough now to tell the difference between his stares, like this one, when his brows were slightly more furrowed than usual. The other ones, when he was in awe of her, because his mouth usually parted. Typically, that happened when she performed a flawless crike, or said something particularly vulgar (for her, at least. Most people would probably consider it normal dirty talk, but Mel still hadn’t mastered the art of it) when they were lying in bed together. She would blush after it, and he’d pounce on her, kissing her neck and her jaw and making her giggle.

“Hey,” Frank said, and Mel nodded at him, her lips still around the straw of her drink. At her lack of normal response, the furrowing of his brows grew deeper, causing a crease to bridge right above his nose. “Mel, you okay?”

“I’m fine,” she answered. Truthfully, she felt fine, other than the obvious fact that the universe felt like torturing her that day.

He pursed his lips, she tried not to let her gaze glance to them. “Are you…” Frank trailed off, suddenly looking a little anxious. “You’re mad because I didn’t pick you up this morning?”

“What?” Mel asked, pulling the drink away and squinting at him behind her glasses. “No, no. Of course not. I’m not mad at you.”

That didn’t seem to convince him, but he stepped closer to her, regardless. “It feels like you’re mad. What’s going on?”

“I’m having a bad day,” she told him, shrugging like it was nothing. “My hot water ran out and Becca ate the last of my granola bars and I had to take the bus, which isn’t your fault but still sucked, and I just knocked over an entire tray of supplies in front of a patient and I feel like crying.” She exhaled once it was all out, then offered him another shrug like they were discussing the weather. Frank’s mouth tugged into a frown.

“Oh, honey.”

“I’m fine,” she insisted, taking one last sip of her tea before storing it back in the fridge. “I’m going back to south 11.”

“Mel,” Frank caught her by the arm, gently. Mel let him, turning to face him and hoping her cheeks weren’t pink. He didn’t seem to know what to say, so instead he offered her a soft smile. “I’m sorry you’re having such a bad day.”

“Me too,” Mel said, and it came out more dejected and also somehow sharper, than she intended. Frank dropped her arm like he’d been burned, and Mel stalked off back to her patient without glancing back.

She hadn’t lied. She wasn’t mad at him—but she also didn’t feel like talking. To Frank, or to anyone. Afraid that she might lose what little sanity she was clinging to, over something so small and silly. She felt childish, letting these things ruin her day and her mood. Really, all she wanted to do was go home and curl up on the couch, maybe with a pint of ice cream or something sweet.

It didn’t help that Robby was on her ass that day, too, insisting that she needed to discharge faster and how she was moving like Mohan that shift. Mel tried not to bristle, because she thought Samira was a wonderful doctor and somehow Robby made it sound like an insult.

Around noon, she was banished to triage. She wouldn’t have minded triage, not on any other day. It usually was slow enough to allow her to collect her thoughts, but today she was so particularly full of them that she needed to be distracted.

She only saw Frank a handful of times after that, the distance only made her want to pull herself further away, especially when she caught him laughing loudly at something Mckay had said. Mel didn’t like feeling like this, jealous and isolated. It wasn’t like her at all.

So when Frank approached her at the lockers after their shift, Mel finally broke and leaned into him. He seemed surprised, one arm wrapping around her shoulders as she buried her face into the front of his shirt.

“Can you come over?” she asked, voice muffled.

“I was just going to ask the same thing,” Frank said, and she lifted her head to look at him. “Thought we could stop by that Korean place you like, first. What do you think?”

“Okay,” Mel agreed, easily. She gave him a weak smile, one that he returned, squeezing her arm before releasing her fully and opening his locker.

The drive to Mel’s apartment was a quiet one, the radio came through statically and Frank was tapping his fingers on the steering wheel up until he pulled into a parking spot. He glanced at her, eyes flickering between hers. “Becca home?”

“Adam’s,” Mel answered, reaching into the backseat to grab the plastic bag that held their take-out. Wordlessly, Frank slipped his fingers through the handle, taking it from her with a knowing look. Mel glared at him. “I can carry the bag.”

“Yes, you can,” he agreed, turning the car off and opening his door, and purposely not giving the bag back to her. Mel huffed, following after him and hopping onto the ground. As she led them to her apartment, his free hand found the lower half of her back, holding her as they walked like he was afraid she was going to disappear.

Mel dropped her keys onto the table by her door, kicking her shoes off and navigating to the kitchen. Behind her, Frank did the same, only he made himself comfortable on the couch, unboxing their food just as she returned with two glasses of water.

“Melissa,” he said, and Mel jumped to look at him.

“Yes?”

“Are you going to tell me what’s going on in your head? What’s really bothering you?”

“I told you already,” Mel replied, stabbing her fork into her noodles. “Unless you just didn’t listen to me.”

“Yes, that is definitely the case,” he countered, dryly. Mel started to protest, watching him pull her take-out container away from her. Frank turned to face her fully, knees bumping hers on the small couch. “Seriously, what’s going on?”

“I’m not mad at you,” she said, then she moved to grab the box but he pulled it from her reach again. “Frank-”

“That’s not what I asked.”

“Fine,” Mel glowered at him, or at least she liked to pretend that was what she was doing, because she was feeling a little flutter in her chest at the edge in his voice. “I missed you. There. Happy?”

Frank’s gaze narrowed. “No, actually.”

“I don’t like you very much, right now,” she told him, and it evoked a laugh from him, which only made her more annoyed. “Can I please have my food?”

He slid it back to her, smirking. “Yeah, only ‘cause you asked so nicely.”

“How generous.”

“Riddle me this, Mel. If you missed me, why did you seem so intent on ignoring me all day?”

Mel huffed. “Because it was stupid. I had a bad morning and I wanted to tell you about it in the car, but then that didn’t happen and I got disappointed. And then I was scared of upsetting you because I was upset for something that wasn’t really your fault, so I avoided you, but really all I wanted was you all day.” She stuffed a bite into her mouth, refusing to look at him. “Satisfied now?”

“Hm,” Frank hummed. Mel allowed herself to steal a glance, and the moment she turned her head, he was reaching for her. He positioned both of his arms on either side of her, boxing her in against the couch, Mel had no choice but to meet his gaze. He pressed a delicate kiss to the underside of her jaw, Mel could feel his smile as she shifted. “I missed you, too. You know this whole relationship thing works better with communication.”

“It works better when you don’t leave me stranded for work, too.”

He quirked a brow, her heart did a weird little flip. “So you are mad about that.”

“No,” she argued. “I’m just saying.”

“I’ll leave my kids stranded instead-”

“That’s not what I meant,” she interrupted, sharp. How could he not see what she meant? Could she make this any clearer? He was supposed to be smart. Mel felt the annoyance clouding again, a frown formed briefly.

Another kiss, this one on the other side of her face, tilting her head back. Mel’s eyes fluttered closed. “This all could have been avoided. If you started staying at my place once in a while.”

“Fine,” Mel said, shortly.

“Fine?”

“Yes,” she nodded. “Will you just kiss me now?”

He nuzzled his nose into her neck, forcing her chin up. “You think you get to ignore me all day and then throw demands out after?”

Mel’s lips turned up. “Yes.”

He ducked his head lower. “I think I’m going to need a little more convincing.”

“Frank,” Mel nearly whined. “I-”

“You absolutely cannot say my name like that,” he swore. “Fuck.”

And he was on her, mouth catching hers and Mel clambered further into the couch, back against the arm of it as he crawled over her, teeth scraping and quietly groaning. Her hands found his hair the way they always did, knotting her fingers through the strands and gripping his scalp. She could have predicated the sound that came from him, eager that she could make him react like that from something so simple.

Frank pulled away for only a moment, lifting his shirt over his head and Mel’s fingertips gravitated to his chest like there was some magnetic forcefield there. She liked that, too, feeling the muscles in his stomach contract at her touch, the quiet gasps that usually followed. This time, however, he caught both of her wrists, and Mel felt her eyes widen. Without warning, he pushed them back to her sides, she could feel the warmth of her skin along with the soft fabric of the couch.

Mel opened her mouth to protest, but Frank beat her to it, hands still holding her wrists and preventing her from grabbing at him. “Sorry, sweetheart. You gotta earn that.”

Mel scowled at him, despite the thrill coursing through her veins. He had never told her no before. She squirmed beneath him, hoping he couldn’t tell just how much that excited her. Even if it did feel like torture. “You’re the worst,” she whispered.

“Yeah?” He asked, his mouth finding her pulse point that she was sure was throbbing and exposing all of her inner feelings. “Tell me all about it.”

When he moved to kiss her, Mel dodged him, an involuntary, triumphant smile taking place at his brief look of surprise. His mouth had brushed her cheek instead of her lips, and she felt almost as surprised as he looked. If he wanted to play games, Mel would let him, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t going to join in on the fun. Then, he cracked a smile, she couldn’t tell if it was amused or one that encouraged the challenge she was giving him.

“Really?” he quipped, voice so hoarse that Mel was almost tempted to break the rule she’d just inflicted between them.

“Mhm,” Mel hummed, defiantly.

Frank welcomed it, didn’t attempt to kiss her after that, he instead instructed her to pull her clothes off, and Mel was embarrassed at how quickly she obliged. She made a silent pact to herself to make this harder for him, so when he tapped her hips, mouth hot against her lower belly and clearly with intention of heading further south, Mel did not lift herself to assist him with pulling her pants off. He looked up at her, expectedly.

“You have to work for it,” she told him, a light whisper, and she wished she sounded as confident as Frank did when he’d said it earlier. Really, she felt silly and almost shy, saying things like that. He didn’t seem to mind—or notice, really.

His eyes seemed so dark down there, smirking up at her. Mel watched his tongue meet the hem of her pants, the quick scraping of his teeth followed. She felt instantly colder as he tugged the bottoms off of her, not even taking them off fully as they pooled at her ankles. Mel’s hand sprang to his hair the moment he ducked his head between her thighs, no longer worried about how odd it felt to have her pants collecting at her ankles while she laid there.

Without looking or even pausing, Frank’s hand reached to snag her wrist once again, and Mel whimpered, fingers finding solace in the couch cushions instead. It was almost too much, not being able to hold him as his tongue worked, evoking embarrassing sounds from her. She had never been loud during sex before, not until Frank. It wasn’t to say she was experienced of any sorts, but the difference between past partners and Frank was vast.

She was moments away from calling off her side of the challenge, hoping that he’d do it, too, she wanted to touch him, to feel him gasp inside of her when she pulled at his hair. Fortunately, Mel managed to stay strong, and slipped her hands under the wire of her bra, cupping her breast and trying her very best not to buck into his mouth. It wasn’t helping that every few minutes, he’d murmur: feel good, baby?

Mel must have shifted differently, maybe made a strange sort of noise, because Frank broke away, chin glistening as he gaped at her, gaze lingering on her occupied hands. He lurched forward immediately, positioning his hips between hers as he finally—finally broke and kissed her just as Mel gripped his bare shoulders, digging into his skin so deep that he moaned into her mouth.

He didn’t get the chance to fully even tug down his jeans before Mel was grasping at him and making him buckle against her.

“Fuck—Mel-”

Frank kissed her gasp away as he aligned himself, slow and deliberately so until she was clawing at him, a silent beg that she was sure he recognized all too well. Already worked up from his previous attention, Mel was gone way sooner than she would have liked to be, but Frank continued through her orgasm until he reached his own, sweaty forehead meeting hers as they came down, panting. He pressed another kiss to the corner of her mouth, softer and sweeter this time, and Mel melted into him as he collapsed against her.

It took Mel several moments to calm her racing heart and come to the realization that yes, she loved when Frank was kind and sweet and how he always listened to her, but something about him telling her no when she was desperate and needy for him had done unspeakable damage to her psyche.

Frank was the one who broke the silence, chest to chest as he tucked a loose strand of her hair that escaped from her now messy braid. “Hey,” he murmured. “What are you thinking about?”

My embarrassing revelation, she didn’t say. Instead, she returned the favor and brushed the hair from his eye. “Nothing.”

“Nothing?” He repeated. “You look awfully pensive for nothing.”

“No, I just..” Mel’s cheeks heated. Frank smiled, kissing them both. “I kind of.. liked what you did.”

He looked briefly quizzical. “Uh.. I do that all the time.”

Mel giggled. “No, I mean.. when you said what I couldn’t do.” Horrified by the confession, she buried her face in her hands.

She watched his expression change through her fingers, something she’d never seen on him before. He looked like an excited puppy. “Yeah?”

Mel smiled, shy, allowing him to pull her hands from her face. “Yeah.”

His thumb trailed down her lower lip. “See how important communication is?”

She moved her leg to kick him, bashfully. “Oh my gosh. Shut up.”