#12 steps

Warnings: Addiction, past sexual abuse, anorexia, general Pitt stuff.

Divider by @isthiscoinsidenceorasign

Header by @veryinactiveartist

"They say you shouldn’t get into a new relationship until  a year into sobriety… 10 months was close enough, right?"

She came onto him fast, with no shame or embarrassment- Frank liked that in a woman. He hadn’t really thought much about “getting back out there”, his divorce only being finalized a few months ago. It was quick, quicker than it should have been, but Frank had been in too low a place to fight custody battles. So, Abby got the kids, and if she had the kids he gave her everything so they would have everything. Now Frank had no car, a shitty apartment, weekend visits at Abby’s discretion and according to maintaining sobriety, and a fuck ton of debt.

So yeah, he wasn’t exactly looking to date. However, 10 months is a long time to be alone with your right hand every night. He wasn’t going to say no to a gorgeous woman practically throwing herself at him. Frank paused as he washed his hands. ‘Is throwing herself at me offensive?’ he pondered. He’d think about this tonight while doing a personal inventory, make sure he wasn’t overly sexualizing- but he didn’t mean it in a derogatory way. 

It’s not like he was going to write off someone less experiences when the time comes time -if it ever comes time- to date again. However, Frank liked that she was confident and knew what she wanted. An attractive feature in a woman. Plus, if he was blurring some ethical boundaries with a woman 10 years younger than him who he technically has authority over… he didn’t exactly want to be adding corruption on top of that… actually…

Flirting with someone 10 years younger than him and who he has authority over is something he should think about during his personal inventory. Right now, he was taking a welcome distraction from Robby ignoring him, and it was in the form of a pretty new intern in pink scrubs, biting her lip looking at him.

“Langdon, this is Farah Salam, this is her first year outta med school try not not scare her with those freaky blue eyes. Salam, this is Dr. Frank Langdon.” Dana introduces them, then catches his glance. “Hey! I said put those things away!” She gestures to his eyes.

He gives a small smile to her. “Like Farrah Faucet?”

Dana chimes in. “And Salam like Salem witch trials, not lets get too it, chop chop”

At the joke, Farah makes a face Langdon can’t quite place. Maybe she’s heard the joke one too many times. It’s gone in a second, and as soon as Dana steps away any facade of decorum fades. “How tall are you?” As she rocks back on her heels to look up at him. 

“Uuuuuuuh 6’3?” He’s surprised by the shameless flirting, they way she’s eyeing him, but he can’t say he’s not checking her out too.

She giggles. “Tall.”

“Very observant.” but he smiles and she giggles again. 

“Lot of lip for a man whose name is Francis.” Farah glances down at his mouth, pauses, then looks back up to his eyes. “Pretty lips, at least.”

Just as Frank opens his mouth to make some sort of retort, the conversation is broke up.

“LANGDON! SALAM! What did I tell yah!” Dana hollers from the nurses desk, shoeing them towards central 6 where a geratric old man  presented with a 6 hour erection. 

She’s not gonna be helping that very much… Langdon thinks to himself, checking out her ass in those bright pink scrubs. Fuck, she was absolutly beautiful, with dark skin and thick brown hair she had pulled into dutch braids still reaching down her shoulder blades. 

As the day went on, he picked up more and more pieces about her. Despite the pink and giggling and his, perhaps-a-little-too-sardonic-for-someone-he-just-met joke about her being observant, was brilliant at what she did. She had an interest in pediatrics. He also learned Farah skipped a grade in elementary school, and did extra classes instead of study halls in high school to graduate early. This, unfortunately, made her 24. Too young for him.

Too young, Frank told himself.

Farah was far from the first intern or doctor to flirt with him. Frank had done his fair share of turning down and avoiding over the years, only ever having eyes for Abby and this was the first time he ever really had to think, to examine, and decide that no, he shouldn’t do it. 

“Hey, how yuh do’n?” Cassie’s voice broke him out of his mini spiral. He looks over to see her leaning against the counter with him.

“Oh, uhhh good. Yeah it’s fine.”

She nudges his shoulder with hers. “I would’ve visited yuh if I knew where you were. Robby wouldn’t let shit slip. Got those HIPPA violations on lock, I guess.”

But Frank guessed it didn’t have anything to do with HIPPA. Robby didn’t visit him either. Cassie must’ve guess she hit a sore spot, so she changed the subject.

“I did short term treatment so like, kudos to you for taking the intermediate. I assume it was intermediate anyway, if you were in long term this would be like, your first week out or some shit.” When Frank met her eyes, she realized. “Ah Jesus, you just got out and you’re throwing yourself back into this mess?!”

“Gotta pay the bills somehow. Rehab is not cheep.”

“No, no it is not” Cassie chuckles, then speaks again after a pause. “Do you have a home group?”

He nods, still not able to keep eye contact or long discussing this. In fact, he didn’t really want to discuss this at all… but Cassie was nice, and after being blown off by Robby all day, death glares from Santos, and almost everyone walking on eggshells around him, it was nice to feel understood. Discomfort can be good. He reminded himself. It’s okay to sit in discomfort. 

“Yeah. Yeah uhhh its a tuesday night one. Figured not much happens Tuesday nights so I shouldn’t miss it.”

“Do you like it?”

This makes Frank laugh. “Does anyone like attending meetings?” He expected her to agree with him, instead she said that she loved hers.

“You should come to mine if yours isn’t the right match. We meet at the Methodist church just down the block, but I promise it’s not preachy or nothing. Just nice people.”

“Oh, uh… I’m…” He spoke in a slightly quieter voice. “I’m narcotics. Not alcohol.”

“It’s an NA group!” She must’ve seen the face he made, because she went on to explain. “I’m an alcoholic, but people choose the meeting that works for them. Some alcoholics go to NA, I even know some addicts that go to AA, so if there’s an AA meeting you like, you can go to that too. I’d even go with you if you wanna try some out. But yeah, no, meetings tonight at 8:30. Absolutely 0 pressure, I know some people can get a little intense. I usually grab food somewhere around before hand if you’d like to meet up?”

It was an olive branch, and a very kind one, but Frank felt a little overwhelmed. “Uh, yeah, maybe…”

Ever observant, she caught that he didn’t want to get food. “United Methodist on 9th st, 8:30. Again, no pressure. I’ll even pretend not to know you if you want. But I promise, it’s good people.”

Cassie patted him on the back, said she’s proud of him, and went to go check on her patient. 

7:00 PM, on the dot. Robby left for his sabbatical. Dana told him to wear a helmet to which he only responded. “Bye!”

And like that, he was gone. For at least 3 months, Frank would have to sit with this discomfort, with the idea that Robby didn’t want him in the ER, that Santos was dangling what she knew in front of him, that everyone either looked at him like a kicked little puppy or an evil addict. Both were humiliating, and he didn’t want to be perceived at all.

His alarm rang reminding him to take his meds, and he handed off his patients to night shift before heading off to his locker. Hand off took longer than usual- he had a high number of patients, trying to keep himself distracted. 

Vivace for ADHD. Effexor for depression. Gabapentin for anxiety, pain, and sensory processing. A cocktail that, while under psychiatric management, worked pretty well for him.

A big, heavy sigh as he shut the locker door, thinking he was alone- only to see Farah there, leaning against another locker and sucking on one of those dum-dums they give kids.

“Taking gabapatin all by yourself, pretty boy?” Farah smiled that seductive smile, as if she wasn’t talking about his psych meds.

“What the fuck? Were you looking in my locker?” He assumed she’d gotten in and looked at his bottles. His skin prickled in embarrassment, shackles raising at the idea she could go around tell people the mix he was on.

“Not hardly, I’d just recognize Gabapatin from a mile away. It’s always in those big bottles and have a distinct look. I take mine PRN, which usually means when I wake up and sometimes in the afternoon.”

Suddenly, he felt ashamed for being so defensive. “Oh.” Farah didn’t wipe the smile off her face, despite the subject matter, but she was clearly trying to ease him even if she did look like something out of a 80’s porno’s idea of what an ER looked like. She’d take her hair out of the brains, showing off bouncy curls. Combining this with the hot pink scrubs and hot pink lipstick and the way she sucked and swirled on that lolly pop… Jesus christ he was getting hard.

“Oh… 3 times a day for me. Kinda inconvenient to have them scheduled at this time but that’s whats worked for me and I don’t wanna mess with it.”

He thought this would be the end of the conversation. 

Instead she was staring at him arms. “I like your arms.”

Never in his life had a girl said that to him before. Langdon had lost a lot of muscle in treatment- in the beginning he spent probably 2 months moping around the facility. But, when he started to make breakthroughs and got properly medicated, he started doing push-ups again. 

“Oh. Uhhhhh, thanks-”

“I’m gonna cut straight to the point, pretty boy.” She bit off the rest of the sucker and tossed the stick in the trash. “I think you’re hot. I wanna fuck you. I think you think I’m hot too and you would be correct. They question is do you want to fuck me?”

“Uhhhh”

“Because the lil tent growing in your pants says you do, but I’ve picked up you’ve got a lot going on. So, instead of playing the flirting game for a month I figure I’ll just be straight up.”

He stared at her for a moment… then laughed. “You’re a walking HR violation, you know that?”

Farah’s face split into a wide smile, pressing her body up against his. Her head didn’t even come up to his chin. “Only for you. So, what the answer? Because I can leave you alone if you want?”

He should say yes. He should say she’s too young, to go chase after Whataker and give that virgin the night of his life. He should say it’s not appropriate because he’s her superior, that he was in recovery and shouldn’t be getting into any relationships until a year sober. 

He didn’t, instead he was running up the stairs to the unused abandoned beds, her hand in his with a smile on his face.

“Just sex right?” He asked, kissing her against the door he was trying to open. “I got some… shit going on, can’t be dating?” He was fully hard, pressing his erection against her stomach now. 

“You’re not married, are you?”

“Divorced. Recently.” Too much information during a hook up, Frank. Could’ve just said no. He gets the door opened, the two of them scrambling for the bed between kisses. “You tasted like green apple…” She felt fucking good in his hands, hand that grappled and squeezed and gripped, hands that were desperate to feel another person for once.

“Fine by me. I’ll be a slut, but I’m not a side chick.”

Frank opened his mouth to tell her she’s not a slut just for sleeping with him, but she was kissing her way down his scrub top as he sat on the unused gurnee and finally reached his crotch, mouthing over his dick in his pants.

Fumbling to get out of his scrubs, Frank could only watch in awe as she spit on his dick, spread it around and then took him fully in one go. The way she looked at him, cock shoved down her throat and watery hazel eyes looking up into his, Frank briefly wondered if this was a good idea, if this could stay just hooking up… but then she went to fucking town on him and he had no thoughts left in his head.

Up and down, Farah worked at lightening speed but he didn’t miss how she was touching herself. Going down on him turned her on… they were going to make a great pair then, because Frank was an eater. 

When she popped off him with a gasp for air, Farah spit on him again, and went to work on his balls. He had half a mind to be embarrassed he hadn’t done any… maintenance down there, given no one was going there the last 10 months, but at least he washed his ass, which is more than most guys could say. She didn’t seem to mind, humming to herself happily as she sucked on his balls and made wet ‘fap, fap, fap’ downs jerking him off.

“I like it messy, Dr. Langdon.” She said, licking his inner thigh and making him shutter. “Can you get messy for me?”

Oh boy, could he.

“Get up here and see for yourself.”

Grinning ear to ear, Farah sat back on her haunches and took a moment just to look at him. Frank couldn’t help blush at the intensity of her examination, but fuck, did she look pretty like this. Pretty as a fucking picture and begging him to ruin her.  She took the hand he extended to help her up, and as he laid down he manhandled her until her pretty legs were spread on either side of his head.

She wanted it messy, he was going to get messy.

*

“My name's Cassie, and I’m an alcoholic.”

He made it just in time for the meeting, he hoped his hair looked the usual floppy messy, not post-best-sex-of-his-life floppy mess. 

She smiled when he saw him and he gave a little wave, awkwardly sitting down. The chairs weren’t the usual church basement folding chairs, but were lightly cushioned. It made for a nice feel. Less "temporary guests using a room” more “you belong here, feel comfortable.” The church wasn’t overly prostylizing either. There was some crosses, some scripture but also just kinda looked like his grandmas- minus the pride flags.

He felt warm, remembering what had taken place only an hour before. He could still smell her on him, still taste her cum if licked his lips. Frank had made sure she got exactly what she needed.

“Fuck!” Farah cried out, angling herself to get exactly what she needed out of his mouth, using him like a toy as she rode his face. “You’re gonna make me come again, sure you don’t need air?” She laughed, but Frank tightened his grip on her thighs, letting her know, in no uncertain terms, he was not ready to take his mouth off her. 

Cassie talked about how relieved she is to have her ankle monitor off, how she’s just got some time left on probation but everything feels like a breeze now that she can go where she needs to or wants to. Langdon is reminded how lucky he was to not have prison, jail, or probation.

Body to body. A hand slid up her scrubs to feel her breasts. Grinding his hips against her with his cock against her stomach. Her breath hitches when she sees how deep he’s going to be inside her. He kisses her neck, careful not to leave marks like the ones she left on his chest.

He listened to others speak. Cassie was right, there were a few alcoholics here, but they were welcomed. Addiction is addiction, he thought. When you’re an addict, you have to treat the addiction, not the substance. That’s why so many people get transfer addictions- not treating the source.

On his knees, Langdon rammed into her from behind, her gorgeous hair bundled up in his fist because she begged him to get pull it. 

“Spank me…” Farah pleaded for him to go harder, but he slowed as he checked.

“You want me to spank you?”

She moaned as dick hit something delicious inside her and he felt her walls fluttering. “Yes, pleasepleaseplease!”

A smile grew on his face and he smacked her asscheek lightly, testing. He’d never done with this Abby, and wanted to test his strength, wanted to test what she liked, make sure he wasn’t overstepping boundaries or assuming or hurting her or-

“Harder, please, want it harder”

“You like it rough, pretty girl?”

Farah turned around, throwing him a wicked grin over her shoulder. “Yeah, rough and messy, do you?”

He’s starting to think he does. “Guess we’ll find out” He spanks her ass again, adding just a little more strength. Her face hits the pillow as she cums around him once again.

This was probably a mistake. He knew better than to start a hook up this early, not when he was still having craving, not when he was already on thin ice at work and Robby was looking for a reason to get him out…

She was so fucking wet. Just creaming around him again and again until her legs were shaking, so sensitive that he bet if he just blow cold air on her wet cunt she’s start pulsing again. By the time he pulled out of her, his uncut tip sliding out with a *pop!* She was a wreck, a messy pile of spit and cum and hair every which way on the gurnee. And she was smiling up at him.

“Hate to fuck and run, but I have uh… A thing in 20 minutes.” He crawled out from under the hospital bed where he found her missing panties, kneeling at her feet. She kicked then a little as she sat on the bed, letting him him her dress. One foot, then then other. She hopped down and he pulled them up, leaving a little kiss just above her knee.

“Mm, glad you pencil me in. We should do this again.” She tied his scrub bottoms and fixed his hair. 

It was a bad, bad, idea…

“Yeah, we should.”

What could he say? He was powerless,

“My name's Frank, and I’m an addict.”

***

Comment to be tagged! After this, all will be posted on AO3 only!! I will still be tagging here