seitmai

You barely stopped yourself from rolling your eyes at his flippant behavior. The last few days had been a constant war in your head between swooning over the man and wanting to push him off the roof. Was he hot? Annoyingly so- especially after every other department head had been a wrinkled prune. Working under someone that didn't have a bald spot or wasn't completely grey was probably making it that much harder for your brain to ignore the attraction to Park. 

If you'd encountered him at a bar instead of work you almost certainly would've hit on him.

Unfortunately, he was not only your boss, at least for the time being- but also a total dick. He never compromised patient care or downright insulted anyone that didn't somewhat have it coming. But he obviously considered himself one of the best doctors in the building(as true as that may or may not be) and he made sure everyone knew it. He'd even taken to calling you 'baby doc' after the second time you reminded him you were closer to being a doctor than you were to your pre-med classes.

All that considered, every inappropriate thought and tension filled moment between the two of you was firmly categorized in the box in the back of your mind that was only opened alone in your bed at night.

"You with me or not?" You snapped out of your musings to find Park waiting at the door for you.

Right. The ED.

"Sorry sir, coming." You pulled off your surgery gown and followed him down the hall to the elevators. Honestly it'd be easier to ignore the attraction if you weren't so sure it went both ways. But the weight of his gaze dragging up and down you as you stood in the elevator with your back to him told you everything you needed to know.

Brendon Park was just as attracted to you as you were to him.

"What do we have?" He asked shortly as he entered one of the trauma rooms with her trailing in behind him.

"Glad you finally graced us with your presence Dr. Park- and with my favorite student I see." Robby's face turned up slightly when he saw her.

Gloria wasn't kidding- every department head around the hospital had not only recognized her whenever they'd crossed paths- but asked about how she was doing and made a handful of comments about her going back to their respective department. 

None of those had compared to the reaction Robby was currently having. He looked like if he wasn't currently covered in blood he would've hugged her. The feeling building in his chest at the thought of Robby being that close to the med student he was quickly growing attached to would have to be examined when there wasn't a patient in front of them.

"Car accident, patient brought their arms up in front of their face, portable x-ray shows both ulna broken in multiple places, left radius is fractured and right radius seems fine although patient's response to pain when awake implies some bruising." Robby rattled off the patients injuries and both attendings watched her closely as she absorbed the information. Then Park did something he never did, partially because he felt like it and partially to see the shock on the faces around him.

"Well- what's your prognosis baby doc?" He crossed his arms, keeping his face flat and watching as everyone but hers jaws dropped. She just rolled her eyes subtly and launched into a treatment plan.

His pride only grew when Robby questioned part of it and she was able to not only defend her choice but explain why it was better than his suggestion. He'd never tell Gloria she was right- but the week wasn't even over and he was already trying to figure out how to convince her to choose orthopedics for residency.

Five minutes later they were wheeling the patient into an OR for surgery.

"Scrub in." He spoke firmly, motioning her next to him at the handwash station.

"Think I might've quit if you didn't let me watch this one." She muttered. He couldn't tell if she meant for him to hear it or not, but the short huff of laughter he let out seemed to shock her.

"Not enjoying the knee replacements?" 

"They're.... fundamentally important." She hummed with a shrug.

He liked that about her. The way she could phrase anything in a way that made opinion seem like fact.

He liked a lot of things about her but that was one of them.

After all of the equipment was laid out and the OR was thoroughly prepared, Park launched into an in depth explanation of what he was doing.

"Your turn." He gestured to the arm on the patient's other side.

"What?" Her face widened in shock and he couldn't help the small uptick on the corner of his mouth at her reaction.

"The right arm has fewer breaks- two plates should do it. Go do exactly what I just did on the other side and I'll finish this arm. The less time the patient is out the better." 

"You didn't let me operate until halfway through my rotation!" A voice came through the speakers of the room- one of the first year ortho residents standing up in the galley and glaring down. 

"I like her better."

"I like her better." 

You felt like your eyes were going to bulge out of your head with how wide they were.

I like her better.

It took an immense level of compartmentalization to not analyze Park's words and focus on the break he'd tasked you with fixing. Almost two hours later they were finally wheeling the patient out to recovery.

"Good job." His voice echoed through the now almost empty OR.

"Thank you sir." He sighed, removing his gloves and surgery gown.

"I told you to stop calling me that. Dr. Park is fine. Even just Park." 

"Noted Park." You shook your head as you disposed of your own surgery attire, following him out into the hallway. "What's next?"

"Next? You go home- our shift ended an hour ago." He glanced down at his watch before making his way towards the locker room. You trailed behind because... well what else were you going to do? You also needed to change into street clothes. 

You kept your gaze firmly on the locker in front of you as you stripped down to the cami and underwear you had beneath your scrubs. Usually you were alone in the locker room- Park having sent you home the last two days after the last surgery before returning to his office to do paperwork or something. You didn't actually know, but now that the temptation to turn around and possibly get a look at him shirtless was there and you really wished he'd stuck to his previous routine.

"So... you and Robby seem close- is that why you're choosing emergency medicine?" You tugged your sweatpants up the rest of the way and turned around to face Park when he spoke. Shirtless. He was gloriously shirtless and it took you a second to process his question.

"Huh? Oh yeah we're kinda close, we live together." You let out a breath you didn't know you were holding when he finally pulled a shirt over his head and prayed he didn't notice you ogling him.

"E-excuse me?" He coughed and looked at you funny. Like he thought..... OH.

"Oh! Oh no- no not like that." You shook your hands and gagged at the thought. "Oh my god no- no he's my dad."

"I didn't know Robinavitch had any kids." 

"Neither did he until like five years ago. It's a long story." You turned back to grabbing stuff out of your locker, not entirely keen on spilling your life story to someone you still barely knew.

"You don't have his last name."

"I have my mom's."

"Oh. Okay." His tone dropped, as he finally took the hint from your short answers and dropped it.

"I'll see you tomorrow Park."

"Yeah, see ya baby doc."

He wanted to bring it up again. It plagued on his mind for the rest of the week.

But contrary to popular belief, he could actually read social cues. And he was very aware that he was at most a mentor and at worst an annoying boss to her- neither of which gave him the right to ask her about her childhood.

He did make an effort to be nicer to her though. If she was Robinavitch's daughter then he was gonna have to try double as hard to steal her for ortho.

He let her do more surgeries, especially with how fast she picked things up. By the time Saturday rolled around he was pretty sure he'd run out of stuff to teach her well before the rotation ended. He was supposed to have a whole 12 weeks with her- but normally it took people more than a week to start applying the knowledge. 

A week in and he'd probably let her do the simpler surgeries by herself if he wasn't legally required to observe her.

"See you next week Dr.Park!" She poked her head in the door of his office. He was way behind on some of the more mundane paperwork he was responsible for and had shifted her over to shadow Garcia for the day. The two apparently already knew each other because apparently two of the residents in the ED also lived with Robby and his med student- one of whom was the resident Garcia was seeing. He wasn't sure about all of the details- just that it had to be a nightmare for HR. 

"You look different." He raised an eyebrow at her. She was in street clothes, but her usual sweatpants and hoodie were exchanged for a pair of jeans that were clinging to her like a second skin and a top that hung loose but was cut so low he was pretty sure if she leaned forward any more he'd be able to see straight down it.

He almost dropped a pen just to see.

"Oh yeah- Trin, Den and I are going out for drinks. They got off an hour ago so I'm meeting them there." 

"Ah."

Now what did he say? Have fun came to mind, but the thought of her out- dressed like that- free and flushed from a few drinks- had his mouth watering. And he assumed it would catch the attention of any other man there with a pulse.

So no- he didn't want her to have fun.

"See you next week then."

"...Yeah. See ya." She turned with a small frown, and he had a feeling he was supposed to say something different.

NOTES:

"I am exactly where Ms.Underwood told me to be. The nurse's hub closest to the main elevator." I pulled up my phone and dragged out the email as I caught up, planting my feet in front of him and forcing him to either stop or plow right through me. For a moment I thought he might just choose to run me over. He glanced at the email, annoyed frown turning into unsurprised exhaustion.

"Just her type of detail overlook. She told me 'the elevators' and I assumed she meant the staff ones." He rubbed his temples as if today had already been a massive headache.

"So it appears our lateness is your fault not mine." I raised an eyebrow, none of the smug superiority in my tone that he seemed to radiate with. Simply a statement of fact.

"Do you make it a habit of correcting your superiors?" He grumbled.

"When they're wrong? Yes. Medicine is not a field that allows for mistakes so why should we train ourselves to ignore them in any situation." His face cycled through a few emotions before settling on respect.

"Acceptable enough answer. Care to move out of my way so we can work?"

You nodded shortly, stepping out of his way and walking next to him until you reached another section of the floor, presumably where he'd assumed you'd be waiting.

"Seeing as this hospital seems to think you're the best thing since sliced bread- I take it I don't need to show you the board or how any of the equipment works?" 

The urge to smack the sarcastic look off his face was strong, but you took a small breath and chose the less violent option.

This time.

"Seeing as I haven't done anything to earn the attitude you're giving me right now, how about we cut the disrespectful bullshit and you treat me less like a child and more like someone who's a few months away from being a doctor?" You crossed your arms, fixing him with the look previous attendings had said could stop a bull in its tracks. Time to see if it worked on a bull shark.

The glare he gave you would have had most people withering where they stood. You'd dealt with enough pushy men that it didn't shake you in the slightest. It probably was not helped by the few looks from nearby staff- including Dr. Garcia who looked intriguingly proud? Or maybe Dr. Park was just always an ass and she was happy to see someone put him in his place. Either way you were sure Trinity would hear about this before you got home tonight.

"We're in OR 3 today. Should just be joint replacements unless a particularly gruesome trauma comes in downstairs." He bit out, grimacing.

"Lead the way." You smiled, gloating a bit internally as you reached up to knock on the claw clip holding you hair back. Didn't need him jinxing that for your friends down in the emergency department.

"What did you just do?" He frowned. Well it seemed like he was constantly frowning- but it morphed into something more confused.

"Knocked on wood so you didn't just jinx us." You shrugged.

"Superstitious much?" He scoffed. "I'm sure you fit in just well in the pit with Dr. Robinavitch and his gaggle of residents."

"Just as well since I plan on doing my residency there." You gave him a tight lipped smile, knowing full well he'd meant it as an insult.

"You know what? Doesn't matter- just stop talking and let's get to work. You're just observing today." He turned on his heel and once again began walking away from you.

"Right behind you sir." You rolled your eyes as you trailed behind him.

"And stop calling me that. Dr. Park will do just fine." He called over his shoulder.

Fuck today was gonna be a long day.

***************************************************

Dr. Park tapped his foot, glancing again at the clock. Two more minutes and he was telling Gloria to shove her med student prodigy up her ass.

"Dr. Park? Brenda says there's a med student waiting at hub number one for you." Rosalyn tapped his arm to get his attention and relayed the information.

Some fucking prodigy if she couldn't even show up to the right hub.

He sighed, walking briskly for that side of the floor. His whole schedule was probably going to be half an hour behind today. At least. Just lovely.

"I presume you're my new med student?" He barked out, hoping to watch her jump. Disappointingly she kept her cool. Guess that's one point in her favor.

"Yes sir." She turned to face him and fucking hell he had to remind himself to be in a bad mood.

She was fucking stunning. Younger than he normally went for- obviously in her mid-twenties so a good decade plus younger than him, and yet he still had to stop himself from looking her up and down. 

"You're at the wrong nurse's hub which puts us approximately 15 minutes behind schedule and I don't tolerate tardiness, let's go." He spoke sharply, turning away from her before he could get completely distracted.

Good decision Brendon- be rude so she can't tell you just felt your dick twitch from such a gorgeous woman saying yes sir.

"I am exactly where Ms.Underwood told me to be. The nurse's hub closest to the main elevator." She caught up to him, blocking his path and forcing him to look at her phone where an email from Gloria was sitting. With vague directions that obviously caused the confusion.

"Just her type of detail overlook. She told me 'the elevators' and I assumed she meant the staff ones." He rubbed his temples to stave off the headache that had been forming since he came in this morning and heard the words 'Gloria needs you in her office.'

"So it appears our lateness is your fault not mine." 

Fuck that stupid smug tone of hers. And fuck her for being right.

"Do you make it a habit of correcting your superiors?" 

"When they're wrong? Yes. Medicine is not a field that allows for mistakes so why should we train ourselves to ignore them in any situation."

He hated that she was right. Again. And not only that but already held in her head the idea he planned on drilling into her. Mistakes were unacceptable. Mistakes got people hurt.

"Acceptable enough answer. Care to move out of my way so we can work?" He waited for her to move, as tempting as it was to move her out of the way himself and see how easy it was, how warm she might be given the bit of heat he'd already felt radiating off her with how close they were. "Seeing as this hospital seems to think you're the best thing since sliced bread- I take it I don't need to show you the board or how any of the equipment works?" 

"Seeing as I haven't done anything to earn the attitude you're giving me right now, how about we cut the disrespectful bullshit and you treat me less like a child and more like someone who's a few months away from being a doctor?" 

Two thoughts shot through his mind at once. One work appropriate and one definitely not.

One: He'd never seen a backbone so strong in a med student before. If she had any modicum of skill then it was no wonder every department wanted a piece of her.

Two: He'd never been so tempted so quick to bend a woman over and spank the brat out of her. 

"We're in OR 3 today. Should just be joint replacements unless a particularly gruesome trauma comes in downstairs." Bloody, broken bones, a great way to keep his mind focused on work and not the increasingly growing attraction to his med student.

"Lead the way." She made a weird gesture to the back of her head that had him pausing and tilting his head in confusion.

"What did you just do?" 

"Knocked on wood so you didn't just jinx us." Knocked on wood. Great, she was already infected with the ED's superstitions. She probably wouldn't even say the word quiet.

"Superstitious much?" He scoffed. "I'm sure you fit in just well in the pit with Dr. Robby and his gaggle of residents."

"Just as well since I plan on doing my residency there." 

Every department wanted her and she was choosing emergency medicine? She had to be a little crazy. At least a little- there's the flaw to focus on.

"You know what? Doesn't matter- just stop talking and let's get to work. You're just observing today." 

"Right behind you sir." 

"And stop calling me that. Dr. Park will do just fine." He wouldn't survive this rotation if she was calling him sir with those piercing eyes and that devilish smirk every five minutes.

heat rushes through your body. every single neuron firing, nervous system quickly flooding with endorphins.

"incoming trauma, two minutes!" lena yells into the room and just like that you're jumping out of your seat to rush after jack for the firs time ever.

the next time it happens you're cuddling on the couch, watching some mindless home renovation show to unwind from the grueling shift you just worked.

with your cheek against jack's arm, you start to nuzzle into his soft skin. he smells like sweat and musk and that sandalwood and pear body wash you bought a few weeks ago that he's definitely stealing.

your mind starts to wander to his gorgeous body. chiseled and tough but also soft and squishy.

before you can stop yourself, you're turning your head over and chomping down on his bicep.

his reaction is instant, straight to his cock, body flushing with desire and something else he can't quite name.

it's dizzying.

the feeling of your teeth digging into his skin, not enough to hurt him really, but enough to mark him.

he shudders at the thought as your lips purse, tongue swiping over the spot you've just claimed to soothe the pain you've certainly inflicted.

once you finally detach, his pupils are so blown out the only thing he can do is pull you onto his lap and return the favor.

your entire chest and breasts ending up like a literal crime scene is simply an occupational hazard.

the next time it happens is honestly all jack's own fault.

you're kneeling in between his legs, so fuzzy and floaty and gone from this plane of existence, lips puffy and red, tears staining your beautiful cheeks and spit dripping down your chin and onto your exposed breasts.

"c'mon kiddo, you can take it," he tries to encourage but his tone is only registering as condescending.

you've been at this for a while now and the frustration of not being able to take all of jack down your throat is starting to gnaw away at you.

"just relax," he says, as if it's sooooo easy. "I'll take care of the rest."

you roll your eyes in annoyance but still lean forward, gentle hands over his thick thighs as you take him back in your mouth.

he's still hard, a nice gift encompassed in a little blue pill he'd surprised you with after you were called in to work a day shift and he seemingly had the night off.

he hasn't cum and his cocky attitude is getting the worst of you now.

at first you don't give him any indication that you're gonna do anything out of the ordinary. you set your pace, follow through with routine, roll your tongue, suck and hollow, try to take him down your throat.

but then, as his hips begin to jerk a little too cockily, you can't help yourself anymore.

you rake your teeth down his length.

"jesus fucking christ kiddo," he shakes beneath you.

he tries to pull you off him but you're so done you refuse to let him.

you do it again, more pressure this time, and he's done for.

he buries himself as deep as he can go. you gag around him but you don't care.

you blissfully hum as he pulls you off him, finally, a pool of his spend landing on your tongue as you make a show of swallowing it.

"oh you're in so much trouble, princess."

you can’t help the grin that graces your lips, one that slowly fades into even more lust as you realize he’s still fucking hard as a rock.

a/n: yeah 🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️

dividers by @/enchanthings

Brenden didn’t text back immediately, he usually never did unless it was past 8 pm. He was likely still in his surgery. Since he had to scrub out and finish some paperwork after, he told you to wait for him downstairs. And he very much told you not to wait in the ER lobby, as it was “too chaotic” and “you’ll likely end up needing to be seen if you put yourself in that mess”. Which you took offense to. Like yeah you were a little clumsy but a waiting room couldn’t be so bad that it raised the possibility of you getting hurt. It was just probably loud and you knew how much Brendon valued quiet time. One time when you were around 15, he fucking shushed you in your own home. He got smacked for that. But you had learned his need for low levels of noise, and he learned your inability to control your voice volume. Lesson learned. 

Brendon had given you a pinpoint location for where to be dropped off at and where to enter the hospital through.  Being so anal organized, he also gave you specific instructions on where to wait and said he told the charge nurse in the ER department you would be coming. 

When you were dropped off, you collected your stuff and walked past some nurses and doctors taking a break outside. Walking in, you saw a large circular set of desks where a handful of people were at. Bingo. The hub. Brendon said he would meet with you here as soon as his shift ended. 

“Hey, what can I help you with?” a younger brunette asked from behind the counter. 

“Hi! I’m supposed to wait here for a friend.” You replied before quickly adding.,“He’s a doctor! Not a patient.”

“Oh, who is it? I can let them know you’re here.” she replied. 

“Brendon Park.” You stated. It looks like your words stun her as her eyebrows immediately furrow, She is taken aback and her jaw drops a little. She is trying to find what to say, but her brain cannot comprehend what you just said.  Brendon had told you that he had a reputation at the hospital, especially in the ED but you did not expect him to cause this type of reaction. You thought he was just exaggerating to look cooler. 

“Uh, I’ll let the charge nurse know.” The words tumbled out of her mouth as she cranned her neck to look for someone else. She looked around until she found an older blonde woman exiting from one of the corridors. “Dana!” she called. “Shark’s uhh- friend is here.” She didn’t sound super sure of what she was saying, the weird look she had did not help either. Shark? You thought. They really called him a shark? Brendon could be a bit snarky, but this felt different. He had a lot of explaining to do later. 

“Hi, sweetie.” The blonde greeted as she came up to you. “My name’s Dana. Dr. Park will be down as soon as he can. Just hang tight,” she smiled.

You smiled back and turned to set your bag down on the down floor, letting out a sigh. You did not pack light. 

Rolling her chair closer to where you were standing from across the desk, the brunette held her hand out. “My name’s Trinity.”

“Nice to meet you!” you shook her hand as you introduced yourself., 

“How do you know Park the Shark?” she tilted her head. 

“Oh,” you were still surprised to hear the name. “We’re old friends. We’ve actually known each other for most of our lives.” you smiled.. 

“Oh wow.” Trinity sat back, her eyebrows raising. “Has he always been such a… sourpuss?” she asked tentatively. 

“Kinda,” you laughed at her choice of words. “he can be a bit grouchy. But I would describe him more as pouty. He doesn't get what he wants, he pouts. Like he can absolutely rip someone a new one, but if it’s not something super inconvenient, he doesn’t get mad about it. More annoyed if anything.”

“That’s insane.” Her eyes went wide.

“Why? What’s he like at work?” you lean in closer. 

“There’s a reason why we call him a shark.” Trinity leans closer to you too, looking around before continuing. “He’s swift, calculated, and has a nasty bite. He won’t hesitate to put someone in their place.”

“Tell me more.” You whispered, gripping the edge of the counter as you kept inching closer, wanting to be on the secret. You were so surprised. Beatrice and Brendon told you snippets of his work personality, but what Trinity was telling made him sound like an dick.

“Everyone is scared to get in his way, doesn’t want to be chewed out by the scariest doc in the building.”

“Scariest?” you pulled back with a laugh. 

“That’s the sentiment in the ED, I don’t know how it is up there in Ortho.” she shrugs. 

“No… Brendon? He’s a goofball.” You pulled out your phone and started swiping, trying to find the picture you were thinking about. “Look.”

You turned your phone around and showed Trinity a photo of Brendon. It was him, a bit younger, with a birthday hat on and frosting across half off his face. He had his tongue out, trying to reach blue frosting on his cheek. His eyes were looking up, concentrating with his eyebrows shot furrowed. He looked like a normal person. Someone who might actually have fun. Nothing like what Trinity was used to and her jaw was dropped. 

“Oh. My. God.” She reached out for the phone, wanting to get a better look at the photo. “You have to send me this photo.” she looked up as she laughed. 

“Gladly.” you smirked, grabbing your phone back from her. 

Just as you started the process to send it to her, a very familiar voice behind you halted your actions. 

“You better not be spreading propaganda about me.” His gruff tone startling you and making you yelp. You held your phone to your chest, totally because you were spooked and not because you didn’t want Brendon to see what was on your phone. 

“Jesus Brendon, way to sneak up on a girl.” You let out a huff, putting your hair back in its place. 

“Shark.” Trinity mouthed at you, before quickly turning around to her work. You turned to face Brendon and opened your arms out for a hug. He immediately opened his arms and welcomed you in an embrace. Wrapping your arms around his torso, you gave him a tight squeeze. You honestly were using a good amount of strength, but it didn't phase him. In return, he gave you a quick squeeze back and you yelped from the surprise. It had been a long time since Brendon had seen you. He was always happy to see you, but this time you were here in his city and he was excited to say the least. 

“I cannot believe you have that photo of me.” Brendon sighed, shaking his head with his arms crossed against his chest. 

“It’s so cute!” You held your phone out for him to see it fully. “Look at what a baby you are,” You cooed, looking up to Brendon to see his reaction. Brendon just side eyed you and rolled his eyes. 

“I thought you were getting hangry, stop spreading stuff like that,” he pointed at your phone, “and let’s go get burgers.” You perked up at his last word. It was like you were a secret soldier awakened. 

“Oh burgerss," you basically droolled. “You know me so well.”

“I knew you’d want something fulfilling after the flight.” He tilted his head with a small smile. 

“Mmmm.” you hummed, unmoving as you thought of taking a big bite out of a juicy burger. While you were in your head, Brendon picked up your bag from the floor and bumped you lightly with his elbow. 

“Come on, I’m starving.”

‘Don’t have to tell me twice.” You snapped out of your meaty daze. “It was nice to meet you, Trinity!” You call back as you follow Brendon out of the door. Trinity waved back at you before murmuring, “That pic would’ve been so good to have,” to herself. She sighed, pushing her chair across the way to go talk to her colleagues about the new gossip she had. 

Walking next to Brendon, you looked up at him. “Thanks for getting my bag, Park the Shark.” you teased with a smile and an eyebrow wiggle. 

“So you’ve heard.” He let out a laugh. 

“You’ve got a lot of explaining to do,” you said pointedly. 

“Over dinner.” He shook his head with a small smile. He didn’t talk about 

“You’ve got a deal,” you smiled, “I cannot focus with my stomach growling.”

“I also can’t think with your stomach growlin’.” 

You lightly slapped him on the shoulder in a fake offense, rolling your eyes.

A/N continued: hey!!! I hope you liked it. i'm focusing on building their relationship but i have no clue if it's working. Please let me know what you think! Is the top set up well? (and should do an extra chapter about the er seeing brendon smile) Thanks!!

xo Em

*

Emery’s apartment was neat, organised. Like she’d expected you to come here before the night had even started. You’d been here a few nights, playing poker with her and your brother. Ignoring how her foot would sometimes scoot up your leg. Eyes on you as she’d look for any reaction.

But now it was just the two of you. Alone.

“Strip,” she ordered, causing you to step back into the door. Of course, you knew what you’d been setting yourself up for, coming up here. But her order shocked you, only slightly.

At the lack of you stripping, Emery walked up to you. Looking down at how sweet you looked. Smiling as she cupped your face with her hand, cold against warmth. “Baby, you said you wanted something better than cigarettes. And well, from the eye-fucking you’ve been doing…” She chuckled as your face burned, feeling it under her skin.

“Does my girl need a kiss first?” At which you gave her a small nod, this wasn’t just a fuck for you. Neither was it just a fuck for her.

Her lips met yours with a shocking tenderness, easing you in. Fitting perfectly against one another. Biting your bottom lip as a means to ask for entry, entry which you happily gave her.

That’s when Emery showed her true colours, one hand tangling itself into your hair as she kissed you like a woman starved. Grip tight as she explored your mouth, earning the sweetest moans from you.

You hadn’t noticed her guiding you to her bedroom, one of your hands going to her waist to keep you two connected. Whining as she tugged at your hair.

Emery pulled back. You tried to follow, but she was pushing you down onto her bed. Grinning as she heard your soft gasp as your back hit her bed. “Good girl,” she mumbled, tearing off her clothes until she stood in a pretty red lacy bra and matching panties. You weren’t awarded the same luxury. No, Emery leaned down, hiking up your skirt, and without a second thought, she just… tore your panties. Mumbling about getting you more.

Her eyes glued to your glistening cunt, “Awh, this all for me?” All you could do was whine and nod as the cold air hit your gentlest parts, turning away in embarrassment. “Words,” she commanded.

“All for you, always for you, Emery…” you finally admitted, looking at her with pleading eyes.

Tapping your needy cunt with her hand, she mumbled, “Good girl.” One finger easily slipping inside. Pumping slowly as her other hand reached under your top. Tugging down one half of your bra as she squeezed and kneaded your tit. Feeling your nipple harden under her touch. Chuckling.

Your cheeks burned, mewls leaving your lips as she easily added another finger. Soaked, the horrendous noise of your need making you whine again. Emery shutting you up with another kiss.

Fully removing her hands as she undressed you, starting at your pretty bra and panties, mumbling how pretty her girl was. “Emery,” she begged, needing her touch again, hurrying her up before she entered you again, three fingers.

Emery was faster this time, drawing out shorter moans. Kissing up your neck, leaving small nips here and there. You knew it was wrong, how badly you wanted her, how proud you felt to have her marks on your skin. She was Jack’s best friend. But fuck she was yours now.

As her pace quickened, Emery noticed how your brows drew together, a clear sign you were close. You leant up, finding a space between her shoulder and neck, finding solace there. Practically screaming her name as her thumb toyed with your clit, her other hand flicking it every now and then, enjoying your pained groans.

Then, as you felt the sweet sensation of your release, you bit down, hard. The skin of her collarbone filling your mouth as your hole clenched around her fingers. Sweat mixing together as she helped you ride out your high. Only slowing her pace when you half choked out a ‘please’.

Pulling her fingers out with a soft ‘plop’ before licking them clean with her fingers. Moaning as if it were the most delectable meal she had ever enjoyed.

“You okay?” she asked, voice softer, worry in her face as she looked you over. “Not too much?”

You blinked at her, like a newborn deer. Cheeks on fire now, thighs squeezing together. “Yeah - yeah no, I’m fuck…” Mumbling out a reply as you ran a hand through your sweat soaked hair. You’d just crossed the whole boundary of don’t fuck your brother’s best friend. And it had been heaven. Covering your face with one hand, you whined, “Jack’s gonna kill me…!”

Emery chuckled, shaking her head as she leant down to kiss your cheek. “S’fine, I’ll take the blame. He’s been teasing me bout my crush on you for a year now.”

Those words causing you to still, eyes opening wide as her words registered in your mind. “He knows-“ To which Emery nodded, smirking at you.

As she begun to walk away, you sat up, a look of confusion on your face. “Where are you going?” Had this scared her away?

“To get something to clean you up with, hun,” she replied over her shoulder, entering her joined on bathroom.

“But - but you didn’t cum?” you shouted, pouting now. Deciding to worry about everything tomorrow, when you weren’t burning with need and fucked out of your mind.

Poking her head around the door, Emery flashed you a smile. “We’ve got tomorrow and every day after that, sweetheart.”

Moreover, you never really liked to cook, mostly because of having to do the dishes afterwards — the dirty pile of everything sitting in the sink repulsed you. However, you took great pleasure in preparing a meal for your close family — especially if your wife Emery or brother Jack would do the dishes afterwards.

On the days when your schedules didn’t align — with you being home — you would from time to time choose to cook something delicious and invite your brother over, so the three of you could enjoy a nice dinner — actually sitting down and eating something nutritious — the luxury your jobs rarely allowed for, especially yours and Jack’s in the ED. After that a movie night was usually held and Jack would stay over in a guest room afterwards.

Today was going to be a day like that — the first one in a while — they were working a rare day shift and you had a day off. You really loved these dinner occasions as you got to spend time with two of your most beloved people in the whole world.

You were a really late kid. Jack was twenty two when you were born. Usually for siblings that far apart in age it meant lack of close relationship, but Jack being Jack was the best big brother you could ever wish for. Maybe he realised early on that with elder parents you were missing out on the experiences that he got as a kid and he was trying his best to give you the childhood every kid deserved — bright and warm. He always made time for you, played with you when you were a kid, helped you with your homework and attended all your school events. Even when he was deployed, he managed to call you every chance he got — still being your reliable shoulder even being on a different continent. You were endlessly grateful for that, unaware that he needed to hear your voice just as much as you needed to hear his — if not more.

Your parents passed when you were still in high school, so Jack took you in until you left for university just a few months later. Jack's wife passed a little prior to that, so you two were the only things keeping each other afloat amidst that sea of grief.

You chose not to come back home and spend your third and fourth years of med school, working in an out-of-state hospital — never wanting anyone to attribute your success in medical field to the favouritism from your brother. He was supportive of your decisions since they were reasonable most of the time (despite that one time that you and your friends pierced your bellybuttons by yourself in college dorm and maybe a few other ones questionable enough that Jack didn't need to know about them at all). So he supported that decision fully, assisting you in every way he could — eventhough he would miss you dearly.

However, for your residency you couldn't help but wish to get into the PTMC — despite having obvious funding problems still one of the best places in the country to get practical Emergency medicine experience. So you applied, making Jack so happy and proud, he actually cried when he got your message.

And here you were now — your last year of residency, excelling at your job, happily married to the most incredible woman in the world and cooking pasta in your shared apartment, singing along to the record player she got you as a present last Valentine's day.

You got a little carried away with your Grammy-worthy perfomance, paying less attention to chopping the vegetables than you reasonably should have.

Then searing pain cut through your hand, making you yelp. Fuck.

The cutting board and the greens on it were getting redder with each second, Emery's favourite coriander was of no use anymore. Taking a deep breath, you lifted your palm to your eyes, studying it meticulously — your steady professionalism overcoming your pain and bits of panic.

It wasn't bad but you sure needed stitches. Shit.

You wish you were as cool as Abbott or Garcia and could patch yourself up — Emery kept a military surgical kit in the living room — but the very thought of it made you nauseous so that’s definitely not happening today. You sighed.

Can you go to a different hospital? No. The Pitt is the closest one. You weren't really good with losing your own blood, having a somewhat embarassing for a doctor history of fainting even after a finger prick exam.

You weighed your options, begrudgingly realising that you would have to go to your ED. Fuck.

When you reached the hospital, you were already a little dizzy and pale from blood loss. Thankfully the bleeding stopped — the cloth covering the cut not even soaked through. However, your iron levels were low as they were and you couldn’t afford to lose much blood. You decided to use your employee privileges — if you even had them — and walked in through the ambulance bay. Everyone recognised you so you weren't stopped. You held your hurt hand close to your stomach, covering it with your healthy one, keeping you face relaxed — so no one even blinked an eye as you were making your way towards the hub. Simultaneously, you kept an eye out for your brother who would definitely fuss over the small cut and scold you for being so careless with knives — despite you being very much a grown woman.

As you almost reached the Hub, you wanted to call out to Dana, who stood with her back to you, when two concerned voices rang in unison behind your back, "Baby?!"

You turned around, silent, pondering how to procede. The two immediately noticed how pale you were and how you clutched your left hand. Walsh was frowning, full of concern. Abbott was wearing the same expression. The frowns on their faces deepened as they turned to each other, both snapping, "Don’t call her that!"

Then once again they spoke at the same time. Abbott tilted his head, "She’s my sister!" as Walsh raised her eyebrows, saying, "She’s my wife!"

Dana stared at the doctors slightly concerned, mostly amused, muttering a soft, "Hi, hon," to you.

You were amused too, pursing your lips, you left your question hanging in the sanitized hospital air, "And they both will let me bleed to death, won’t they?"

Dr. Ellis looked up from her charting in the farther corner of the Hub and walked up to you, attracted by the slight commotion.

"Unbelievable," Ellis shook her head at the two attendings, turning to you, "Can I see?"

The two other doctors said simultaneously, "I’ll take care of her."

You gave them both an annoyed look and turned fully to Ellis.

"Yes, please, Parker," you outstretched your arm towards her, letting her to gently unwrap the cloth, and shared your opinion, "I do need stitches but nothing too serious."

Your wife and brother both took a look as well — breathing a little deeper and slower, once realising the injury was minor.

"That’s nasty," Ellis hummed in agreement, "What were you doing?"

"A nice dinner for these two," you nodded at the two doctors, both standing with their arms crossed, brooding, almost comically so. "Thank god I didn’t finish it. Pasta doesn’t feel like a disownment," you pointed at Jack, then at your wife, your tone teasing, "and a divorce kinda dish."

Ellis chuckled at that, motioning you to follow her, "Come on, let’s patch you up."

"South eighteen’s open," Dana said, earning a grateful salute from Parker.

Before either of you made more than a few steps, Emery and Jack chimed in once again.

"I—"

"I—"

You cut them off, "No. I’m fine. Ellis can do this," waving them off, "You two go bicker somewhere else and while at it, please, fetch me a cookie from the vending machine. I’m starving."

They hesitated, but knew both that you were in great hands and that there was nothing that could change your mind once it was made up. Jack cleared his throat and asked, "Coconut one?"

Emery huffed, her arms still crossed over her chest, "No need to ask."

Jack tried to reason, irked, raising his eyebrows at Walsh, "She might want a different one."

"A different brother she needs that’s for sure," Emery cackled, her retort making Ellis chuckle and Dana shake her head with a tiny smile tugging at the corners of her lips.

Abbott frowned at Walsh, then turned to you, his tone tooth-achingly sweet, "I know a good divorce lawyer, honey."

Before anyone could reply, Ellis chimed in.

"The delay of care or whatever they say," Parker sang and, wrapping an arm around your shoulders, guided you towards the hospital bed.

Your wife and brother followed closely.

When you sat up on the bed, putting your still throbbing hand in your lap, Ellis prepared everything needed for suturing.

"Did you drive?" Abbott asked.

"Took an uber," you shrugged.

You nodded at his perplexed reaction, "It was awkward."

After a beat of silence Walsh and Abbott opened their mouths to say something else, but you cut them off again, your tone dry, exasperated but still kind, "Get out. And don’t be mean to each other. At least try to. I’m on my death bed for fucks sake."

They closed their mouths, looked at each other and stepped out of the curtained space. You let out a sigh. Ellis numbed your hand and was preparing a needle, "How do you do that? It’s like they never shut up."

You smiled, now pain-free and content, studying the ceiling not to see you hand being poked.

"Thankfully they don’t have to spend all their time together," you glanced down — first stitch was already done, neat, "Separately they are quite well-behaved."

Ellis gave you a smile and went for a second stitch, you turned away immediately.

"It’s funny how squeamish you are for a doctor," she chuckled as you felt the tug of a knot being tied.

"Oh, go to hell," you rolled your eyes, and continued your previous thought, your tone turning fondly, "Plus, I still cherish the memory of Emery's face when she found out Jack was my brother and Jack's face when I told him Walsh and I were getting married."

Ellis squinted at you, laughter behind her eyes, "Oh, right, I forgot that you were just as mean behind those doe eyes of yours," slapping her knees, she stood up, "All done, sweets."

You looked done at your hand, three perfect stitches adorning it now, "Thank you, Parker."

"You’re welcome," she nodded, then stopped for a moment turning her head to the hallway, then raising her eyebrows at you, "I can hear them a mile away."

You heard them too now — hushed voices in the distance, arguing non-stop — and fell back on the hospital bed, closing your eyes, "Tell them I’m dead."

"I don’t have a death wish, girl," Ellis shook her head, raising her hands in surrender.

"Traitor," you squinted at her, whispering.

"Every man for himself," Ellis pursed her lips, backing away, nodding at your injured hand, "You know the drill." Then she saluted you and disappeared, "See ya."

You had a few moments of calm before Emery and Jack stepped into the space. You stayed reclined, one of your legs bent under another.

Jack sat on the stool next to the bed, offering you your favourite cookie, while Emery perched on your bed, squeezing your good hand and then offering you a cup of something that smelled like hot cocoa.

After a bite and a sip, during which they remained silent, Emery took your hand again, asking you softly, "How are you?"

You squinted at them, glancing back and forth, teasing, "Suspicious of you being cooperative."

Walsh shrugged, rolling her eyes, her thumb running gentle circles on your hand, "A temporary truce with the grandpa."

"Very temporary," Jack snapped his eyes to Emery, "Very short-lived."

"Unlike you," she retorted with raised eyebrows.

"And the truce ends now," he leaned back, crossing his arms over his chest, "The war is declared."

You sighed, lolling your head to the side, "Do you mind being kinder to each other?" Then you brought an arm to your heart, "I literally was on the verge of death."

Abbott huffed, gesturing at you and looking at your wife, "See she wasn’t like that before. You spoiled my perfect little sister, Walsh." He threw his hands up, "Look at her now! All mean and dramatic."

"So just like her brother?" she questioned, yearning a slap on the wrist from you. "Trust me, it runs in your bloodline. Not my deed."

Before Jack could say anything else, you intervened, almost pleading, "Can you, please, stop. Please. I love you two dearly, but I need a moment of silence or I'll actually consider going no contact."

You saw they wanted to say something else, but thought better of it and remained silent. You squeezed your eyes shut, content, muttering, "Thank you."

"Our shifts are over," Jack said.

"You still up for a movie night?" you asked them without opening your eyes.

"Yep, was waiting for that all day long," your brother chuckled.

"Hon, maybe you should consider a geriatrics fellowship, huh?" Emery whispered, squeezing your hand, her tone warm. "So good with the elderly."

"If you haven't noticed, sister, you married a bully," your brother noted deadpan.

Your wife chuckled and asked softly, "Are you up for a movie night?"

You sighed, "Yes, but we’re ordering pizza and maybe booking a family therapy session."

Disclaimer: YOU DO NOT HAVE PERMISSION TO REPOST MY WRITING ANYWHERE ELSE WITHOUT MY CONSENT. REBLOGS ARE ENCOURAGED THOUGH. YOU MAY NOT FEED MY WORK TO ANY AI DATABASES OF ANY KIND OR TO USE MY WORKS TO TRAIN AI. FUCK AI.

The rest of the shift goes by painfully slow.

You don’t exactly avoid each other, but there’s a heavy understanding that if you both so much as make eye contact across a room, there’s no higher power that can stop you from being absurdly obvious about all the ways your relationship has just changed.

So you follow Shen and Ellis around like a puppy and he doesn’t call your name whenever he needs assistance.

If anyone else finds it weird, no one says a word, and you are grateful for it since you’re finally back on nights for the foreseeable future.

It isn’t until ten minutes before shift ends that he finally allows himself to corner you.

You’re in the dispensary, getting a cocktail together for your patient in north five when he slides in behind you.

“Give me your address,” he tells you, soft and almost shy about it.

You don’t turn to face him, concentration elsewhere. “I thought we were going back to yours.”

When he doesn’t say anything you explain. “My building’s not exactly mobility friendly.”

“I’ll manage.”

You scoff, a light chuckle escaping and you can feel him tense behind you. Be it from shame or the dawning realization that he cannot simply bullshit you, there’s tension in the air between you now.

You turn to face him. “I want you to be comfortable too.”

His gaze sharpens slightly, as if trying to figure you out, find the hidden agenda in your voice, waiting for the other shoe to drop.

You stare back defiantly.

He may be…may want to become your dominant but you’re not just going to let him carry all that burden himself. You’re going to take care of him too.

“Wait for me ten minutes after shift change.”

“Yes, sir.”

His eyes darken instantly, a devilish smirk curling on your own lips.

The tension turns electric.

Neither of you moves.

“Oh pretty girl, you’re gonna have to be careful what you say to me from now on.”

“I didn’t before and I sure as hell won’t start now.”

Jack suddenly becomes so overwhelmed by excitement that he’s rendered comebackless.

You giggle at the realization and it forces a smile to grace his lips.

“I’ll see you in a bit,” you tell him.

He nods, finally moving back and leaving the confined space before the two of you do something you’ll definitely be made to regret by the annoying HR gods.

“Hey, there goes trouble,” Robby teases as he walks through the main entrance into the ED. “Not sticking around for a double?”

Jack shakes his head, practically slamming the data pad against his friend’s chest.

“Woah, shit, can I put my bag away first?”

“No,” Jack grumbles. “Let’s get to it, Robinavitch.”

That causes Robby to raise his eyebrows in shock. “Alright?”

Jack is thorough and efficient. It takes him less than ten minutes to hand over. And the second he’s done, he disappears to get his things, leaving Robby with his mouth hanging open, searching for his friend cluelessly.

He finds you waiting for him patiently in the locker room. You’re chatting up Dana, thanking her again for letting you use her shoes and reassuring her that you’re never going to do it again.

He can’t help but smile to himself at the confession. But it also weighs heavy on his soul.

He understands you because he does the same thing.

He uses the job to seek the same release you do.

And the knowledge that you have both been searching for the other is both the most precious gift he could ever ask for but also the reminder of one of his biggest failings — not having found you sooner.

“I’ll catch up with you later,” you tell the charge nurse as you grab your bag and walk towards the exit. “Have a good day, doctor Abbot.”

You smile at him, tilting your head towards the parking lot exit so he’ll know where to find you. If there’s one thing he’ll give you is just how good on an actress you are, unshakable and unbreakable, and he’s tried. 

He manages a grunt and a nod before he swiftly makes his way to his locker to grab his bag.

“You hurt her and I will kill you.”

He stills at the threat. Not because he’s afraid, he’d rather die than lay a finger on a single hair on your head. But he also deeply understands what Dana means.

This isn’t just a romantic relationship. This is…everything. This is trust. This is respect. This is opening himself up completely and showing up in a way that will definitely challenge both of you.

He turns to face Dana. “Don’t worry, I’ll beat you to it.”

“Good,” she pats his back. “You kids have fun.”

He finds you leaning against his truck.

God you truly are a vision.

You’re on your phone, answering something or mindlessly scrolling through social media, he cannot care less.

You only notice him when he’s practically towering over you.

You don’t flinch, you don’t jump, you just lock your phone, look up at him and smile.

That fucking smile is going to be the death of him, of that he’s certain.

His heart begins to race and he can tell you’re in the same boat as heat tinges your cheeks and neck. He reaches out for your hand, interlacing your fingers with his and bringing them up against his cheek.

“We’re not going to play today, okay?”

You nod, completely understanding.

“We’re just gonna talk—”

“And have breakfast.”

“And have breakfast,” he chuckles.

“Good, cause I’m starving.” You push yourself off the side of the truck and brush his nose with your own.

Jack is certain he’s never known softness before in his life.

Not like this.

His breathing falters, his eyes shut instinctively, savoring the moment, committing it to memory.

And then you kiss him, soft and fleeting, but it’s enough to make his heart leap.

Jack’s hand wraps around your thigh possessively for the entirety of the drive back to his place and you can’t help the dopey smile that blooms instantly. It makes him chuckle, grip only tightening in response.

The ride is comfortably quiet, a morning show drones on through the radio but neither of you are paying any attention to it. It’s somewhere between the third and fourth stop light that your eyes close and through the rhythm of the car beneath you or the way Jack is now rubbing gentle circles against your leg, you let sleep win.

You wake up to the beautiful cadence of his voice saying your name. You blink awake, sad that the best sleep you’ve ever had has been interrupted but elated that it’s his beautiful face you get to wake up to.

The truck is parked in front of a one story house. His house. You smile softly, shifting in your seat as you unbuckle your seatbelt, well, you try to. For some reason, you’re so groggy you can’t quite press the button properly.

Jack lets out an amused huff and you immediately pout. 

“’s not funny,” you whine in that pretty voice that lets him know you’re starting to get frustrated.

“I’m sorry, kiddo,” he genuinely apologizes but can’t stop the amused smile that shows off his dimples. “Lemme help you.”

He does, easily, and it makes you even more whiny. You groan, loudly, and it makes him laugh this time.

“Alright, let’s get you to bed.”

It takes him a few seconds to exit the truck, rounding it to your door and opening it up as far as it goes.

“C’mere.” 

He opens his arms, half expecting you to leap into them but he should know better. You shake your head, pouting aggressively as you try to twist your body away from his. 

“Oh poor baby,” he mocks a little, testing the waters. “I thought you wanted to be my good girl but I guess I was wrong.”

It’s all feigned teasing that he knows will force you right into his embrace. And the way you turn around instantly tells him everything he needs to know. Grabby hands eagerly call him forward and he instantly steps into your open legs, strong, steady hands wrapping under your ass to lift you into him.

Your arms snake around his neck, face hiding in the crook as he wraps your legs around his waist. 

“There you go,” he kisses your temple. “Was that so hard?”

You nod against him and he chuckles, forcing a giggle out of you.

“I knew you were trouble before but this is—” he unlocks the front door. “This is gonna be fun.”

You shiver unconsciously at his words and he feels it. You’re just as excited as he is. You’re just as enthusiastic about this new shift in your dynamic. For too long you were restricted to sarcastic comments, cutting comebacks, flirty and bratty responses, but now…now you could both act on them.

You don’t know how it happens but one second you’re walking through the front door and the next you’re sitting on soft, cold linens. You begrudgingly unwrap yourself from Jack’s warm body as he sets you down on his bed, grounding hands running up and down your thighs.

“I’m gonna go get our bags,” he tells you, lips hovering yours almost sinfully. “Why don’t you take a shower while I make us breakfast?”

Your eyes sparkle at the mention of food and he can’t help but roll his eyes, a smile to match your enthusiasm.

“Thank you,” you tell him, you mean it.

“Always, kid.”

He trusts you know your way around. You’ve been to his house once before, a dumb Christmas party Dana had bullied him into hosting because his place was the most central to all of you. But that doesn’t stop him from placing a soft kiss to your lips before he tries, and fails, to get away.

Your hands fist into his shirt, the stupid black fabric clearly keeping you from what you truly want to grab at. He shivers as your knuckles barely graze his abdomen, his mouth opening up slightly, and you do to him exactly what he did to you earlier.

Your tongue enters his mouth adorably, seeking a closeness that he knows if he gives you now, you’re definitely not getting any sleep anytime soon. 

But he can’t stop himself either.

He groans into your mouth, the sound causing a rush of heat to spark through you. 

“Jackie—” you whine and his grip on your thighs tightens.

“Fuck kiddo.”

You whine again. He knows what you want because he wants it too. It takes everything in him to pull away, to not have his heart break a little at the cry that leaves your throat.

“I know, I know,” he presses your foreheads together. “We’ve got time for that later, I promise.”

At that you finally calm down. A little. You hum contently, clearly having won some secret battle he didn’t even know you were fighting. 

“Shower,” he states. “Then food,” you nod, following along. “Then sleep,” you huff and he lands a light smack to the side of your leg, causing you to jolt. “And then, if we’re feeling up for it, then we can play a little. How’s that sound?”

You nod, enthusiastically and he smiles brightly. God, this truly had to be heaven because there’s no other logical explanation for just how blessed Jack feels in that moment.

He kisses you one last time before he finally peels himself off you, quickly leaving the room before his resolve crumbles and he falls right back down to his knees in front of you.

You do as he asked, satisfactorily removing the sweaty clothes off your body and throwing them into his hamper without a second thought, something deep in your stomach telling you you’d be back soon enough.

The shower was scalding hot, perfect water pressure hard against your aching muscles. It was grounding, the water bringing you back to the present, to where you are and not the muddled waters that tiredness and comfort kept trying to drift you into. You’d already dropped once in the last twenty four hours, you’re not exactly willing to let it be two.

You wash your hair, the musky smell of his shampoo and conditioner working against you. It takes everything in you not to succumb to the warmth, the comfort, the knowledge that you’re here, in his house, in his shower, about to get in his bed.

It starts to get scary really quickly, forcing you to get out of the shower before you really want to. You wrap his towel around you and practically run out of his room, feet still a little wet. You practically slip into his arms on your way to the kitchen. Steady hands wrap themselves around you, pinning you to his chest.

“Slow down, kid, I’m right here.”

You let out a shaky breath you didn’t know you’d been holding in, swiftly burrowing yourself into his embrace. The tears burst out of you without your consent, sobs rocking through your body like a storm crashing against a cliffside.

“I’m sorry, fuck—” you try to pull back but he won’t let you. “I don’t know what’s wrong.”

He shushes you gently, slowly walking you both back into his room.

“It’s okay,” he whispers. “You’re okay. I’m here. I’m not going anywhere.”

You nod against him as he sets you back down on the bed. He pulls back from you for one second, you count, and takes off his shirt in one swift movement, his pants quickly following so he won’t get in bed in his dirty scrubs, before he pulls you taunt against him, your back to his front.

His arms wrap around you tightly and he stays with you until you relax into his embrace, until your grip on his forearms softens, until your breathing evens out and you fall asleep.

He stares at you for a long time. He thinks about leaving you to take are of the million household chores he’s left unfinished but the way your eyelashes flutter against your cheeks, the way you huff in your sleep, the way you shift closer to him with each breath — nothing else matters anymore.

“You still wear your ring.”

It’s not a question, it’s a statement. But it isn’t accusatory, it doesn’t make him feel like he’s being told to take it off. It’s just an observation, an opening for him to tell you more.

You stirred awake a few minutes ago, your hands instantly interlacing with his own as you unashamedly began…exploring.

“I do,” he takes a deep breath in and it tickles your ear. “Does it bother you?”

Your nose scrunches adorably. “No, not really. You must’ve really loved each other.”

“We did.”

A beat of silence follows as you muster up the courage. He doesn’t rush you, doesn’t push, and then—

“Do you think you’re open to loving someone like that again?”

Do you think you’re open to loving me?

He squeezes your hands in his. “I think I’m ready to try again.”

You smile brightly, openly, caring and understanding. He’s felt this way before, he must’ve, but there’s something so open and freeing about how you look at him, how you want nothing more than to understand him, care for him, open up to him. It’s a gift, an honor, one that he will not take lightly.

“Have you done this before?” You ask him, heart is hammering against your chest. He can feel it rattling your body, matching his own.

It takes him a second to answer. “Not like this— not like I want you.”

You can feel your entire body tingling. It takes everything in you not to grind your hips down against his crotch, the one you’ve become hyper aware is only covered by his boxers.

He can tell, definitely, because his mouth quirks up into a barely there smirk and you simply know he’s thinking of doing the exact same thing to you.

“How do you want me?” Your voice lowers down to a whisper.

“Honestly?”

You nod. He sighs, shifting as he struggles to take the leap of faith.

You squeeze his hand, turning your head to look up at him, encouraging and he sees it, the fire, the hunger, the absolute devotion in your eyes, the same one that he carries within himself. The same one he’s been holding back on out of fear of being too much.

“I want…everything, kiddo,” he sighs, the weight releasing from his chest like a torrential downpour after months of drought. “I want the honor of being your dominant but I can’t just be that, I think my heart would not be able to take it. I want you to be mine and I wanna be yours too.”

You smile brightly. “I want that too.”

He sighs dramatically in relief. “Good, cause I would’ve probably disintegrated from shame if you said anything else.”

You roll your eyes, snapping your hand from his grip in retaliation to his dramatics.

“Hey!” He complains immediately.

“The only one allowed to be dramatic from now on is me.”

His eyebrows shoot up, disbelief mastered all over his face. “Such a brat.”

“I am not! I am delightful.”

“Delightfully bratty,” he mocks.

“Shut up, you love it.”

“I do.”

You share a knowing look. Every memory, every touch, every misplaced breath you’d thought you had been reading too much into flashing in your mind, your chest, your stomach. It isn’t all in your head, he wants his, he wants you.

“How long have you been…?” You don’t exactly know how to ask it, but luckily for you, he just knows.

“You want me to sound like a creep, kiddo?”

You giggle. “I don’t think it’s creepy.”

His eyebrows rise in shock. “You’re worse than I am, aren't you?”

“I wouldn’t say worse,” you tease. “I just think I match your freak more than you think.”

Jack laughs, the vibrations heavenly in your little bubble.

In response, unsexily so, your stomach growls, and the two of you descend into an obscene fit of laughter.

“Breakfast?”

“More like lunch at this point.”

“Almost dinner, actually.”

You turn to the clock on the nightstand.

“It’s not even four, you really are geriatric.”

A hand snakes in between your things, a sharp slap snaps through the quiet room.

“Watch it, kid.”

You’ve never felt this electric. 

“Or what?”

“Or I’ll eat you for dinner.”

I love these two so freaking much

"Your gloves and wraps are in here," Magnus nodded his jaw towards the box in your hands, "Please follow the safe wrapping method I taught you before."

There was a glint in your eye as your socked foot stepped forward to hand over the kit. His eyes stayed a moment longer on the white socks bunched up around your ankles as he picked up his kit from your grip. Aren't you supposed to wear shoes in the arena?

Your soft lips tugged into a grin when you caught his eyes go down, "It's strategic technique, very much for me only," you teased as you wiggled your socked toes, "you're not advanced enough to be without shoes in here."

Brendon glanced from your face, your smile, to your feet and back to the kit in his hands, "Didn't it rain a few hours ago?"

Coach snorted loudly and nudged your ankle with his shoes. Your leg immediately buckled and you gasped, stepping back to avoid his foot.

"Wrap and warm up," Magnus nodded at Park, then turned to you with a smile, "watch for form, come find me in 20."

Clearing your throat and glaring at his monster-sized shoes, you turned to a side bench to pick up you notepad. "So," you twirled your pen between two fingers while Brendon wrapped his knuckles, "How many sessions exactly have you done?"

"About four," he drawled while clenching and unclenching his fists, "two of which were cut short."

"Oh?" you were sectioning your notes and you looked up to find his eyes on yours, "Family?"

Your tank top tightly wrapped you in a burnt brown color, overlayed by a see-through black shirt that was loose and boxy. Brendon took in your black shorts, stopping where they stopped mid-thigh, "Work."

You hummed and adjusted your posture, your eyes going back to the pad on your arm. He expected you to ask what he does for work, but you payed more attention to his hands, the way he wrapped his knuckles, and the flex of his fists.

Sitting back on the bench, Brendon adjusted his shoelaces, tucking them in. As he leaned back up, his eyes caught a discoloration along your right leg. Right under your knee was a faded scar, it went down all the way to your socks. Almost imperceptible if he didn't have an eye for it. Was that what go you here?

A lot of Brendon's patients found new passions and hobbies after their injuries, or during physical therapy. One of them recommended Magnus to him, not for injury healing, but for his professionalism, directness, and clear-cut fitness plans. Brendon found the coach to be pleasant company without the silliness of small-talk.

The surgeon stood up, prepared to start, and tucked away questions about your injury. It was none of his business what happened your leg, you've met barely an hour ago.

The eyes, pretty and playful, were still eerily familiar, but Brendon forgot all about that immediately under the frustrations of being corrected every two minutes for the last 10. 

"Brendon, where is your swing coming from?" pen tapping at your lips, you walked a wide circle around him.

Brendon rolled his eyes. For some reason, he was expecting to already be good at this, he was good at most things for most of his life, and he had to consciously take a step back and listen. Your smile didn't leave your cheeks even as his frustrations appeared. 

"Ok," you placed your notepad on the floor, and stepped closer, waving you hand at him to step behind you. 

Then you took the stance, the one he'd practiced at home. It looked so different on your body, confidence and power overwhelmed that playful first impression of you. Feet shoulder-width apart, with your heels a bit off the mat. Knees soft and weight centered, chin tucked in. Hands up, loose fists, and elbows right at your ribs. 

He's memorized it like the rules, like textbook homework, like med-school. Looking at you from the back, how the ripple of muscle moved in waves on your shoulders and upper back, how the tight hem of your shorts dug into the middle of your thighs, even your hair seemed to sway exactly how you wanted it to, curling half-dried strands dancing down your nape.

This is what Brendon was looking for. The undeniable control of it, he craved the centered contentment you seemed to emit from your entire body.

His eyes also caught the open-back gap in your shirt, but he was trying to forget about that for now.

"You understand the stance very well," You said as you instructed him to copy you, "But you keep losing it with every movement. You have to step back into position fluidly and intentionally."

Then you challenged him to a game of the most tedious step drills, in which you pointed to a spot and he stepped, then reset into stance. Forward, back, left, and right. After a few, you added a freeze command and it made you actually giggle when he wobbled. Brendon thought he was too focused to be effected by the sound, he wasn't.

You added shadowboxing to the drills and joined him in synchronized movements, like it was a choreographed dance. Brendon watched as slowly your comments got braver, teasing as you instructed. He couldn't believe he was finding this amusing, fighting his face to remain stoic. No one usually plays with words around him this much.

"If you cross your legs one more time, I'll sign you up for the ballet studio. Camille can handle you."

"You gasped like you forgot to breathe. You did, didn't you?"

"A jab has no business turning your entire body, turn your back foot and swing at the hips."

"If you want to break your wrist, I'd recommend rotating your fist at the laaast second."

"Magnus used to smack my hand with his mitt if I left it forward after a jab. Snap back into guard immediately or I'll tell on youuuu."

Your legs swung as you sat on a press bench, and your eyes sparkled like you were having the time of your life just irritating him. Brendon quipped back occasionally, when his breath allowed it. 

You clapped once and bounced off the bench, "Ok, BigBren-"

"Do not call me that," his head snapped to you with a subtle glare.

"Oops ok," you huffed as you extended your arms over your head, "let's stretch a bit."

"In the middle of a session?" 

"Yes, 100%, sir, you move like a rusted nail," you laughed, then muttered, "long, long, and so uncompromising."

He released his stance, feeling a twinge between his shoulders, "Uncompromising is part of my job."

"Not here, it's not," you smiled up at him and whispered, "it's Magnus's but don't tell him I said that. I promise I'm funnier."

Brendon felt a smile pull up his cheeks.

"I understand you want to punch things soon," Coach nodded slowly as he walked with Brendon towards the lockers, "but that is not the sport. Your balance, your guard, is what protects both you and others." 

He'd been instructed to stay in stance for five minutes everyday, use a mirror and no music, until his muscles have memorized what his mind has. Coach Magnus joined you after supervising a group class, and Brendon watched as you demonstrated the movements again under Coach's watch, while he pointed out tips to keep balances, common mistakes, and breath work. 

This is all to be expected from a very successful trainer. You cheekily knocking down Magnus's pen every time he used it to point at your form was new, so was the giant blonde's laugh when he made you put your feet closer together, only to purposefully knock you off balance. It's for teaching purposes, He'd claimed with a grin.

Something fluttered in Park's chest at seeing the natural flow of your strange relationship. It looked fun, supportive, there was no worry about offense after teasing remarks. Even in the first session with you, Brendon has been subjected to such remarks for over an hour, until he too found them funny.

Your spirit in this had not been deterred by his blank expressions or his glare. You seemed to find joy in producing any eye twitch or half-smile from his face.

"I understand," Park nodded.

"Good, now we may need to focus a bit on that before adding an opponent or getting the mitts, but you're a fast learner once you got the idea."

Brendon huffed, thanked the coach and walked towards the showers. Pausing at the door, he turned and mentioned your name, "she work for you long?"

"Oh," Magnus laughed heartily and shook his head, "she doesn't work for me, this is just what she likes to do."

He was still chuckling as he walked back into the gym.

an: I know nothing about boxing so i made up some stuff and looked up some stuff. also, I made up the gym names and it was so fun. Magnus was something for the plot but omg I love him.