Strapped to a table ❤❤
This is four years late and probably not what you expected, but here you go!
Content warnings: medical setting, anesthesia, precursor to surgery, creepy whumper
“… Alright, now put your arms out like a T for me. We need to secure you to the table for the procedure, but don’t you worry, you’ll be out like a light in just a few minutes here, okay?”
Roux, lying there in a scratchy hospital gown, opens their mouth to respond—but before they can speak, Ambrose jumps in, squeezing their non-IVed hand. “That’s right, sweetheart. Just breathe for us; you’re doing so well.”
Roux grits their teeth and barely refrains from rolling their eyes. Ambrose shouldn’t even be in the operating room, but he said something to the surgeon about them having anxiety,and that apparently gave him a free pass to tag along and hold their hand—no matter how unwanted he may be.
They have half a mind to kick him out themself. They want to, and they would—except he’s the one who wrote the check to the surgeon, and he could just as easily yoink them off the operating table and drag them back to his opulent little penthouse. Roux isn’t going to breathe a word to him until they wake up tiddy-free. Then they’ll go back to cussing out Ambrose.
A nurse fiddles with the IV line. Ambrose strokes their hair, fucking up their curls like usual. Cold anesthesia drips into their hand, and a plastic, beachball-smelling mask descends over their face. “Okay,” says the nurse, “take some deep breaths for us, hon.”
Roux inhales deeply. This’ll be over soon, they think to themself, exhaling. Four to six week recovery … Inhale. And then I’ll have one less reason to hang around Ambrose. Exhale.
Roux feels like he’s sinking right through the table. The fluorescent lights above are getting farther and farther away. The nurses chatting with Ambrose about what a good boyfriend he is (Ambrose doesn’t correct them) sound fuzzier and fuzzier. Roux is going under. There’s nothing more standing between him and top surgery.
This is exciting. He should be excited.
But his darkening vision can orbit only around Ambrose, his smile bright and constant beneath lights of the operating room.
