#db drabbles

brendon remembers the day he met you. he had had such an awful shift that he chainsmoked his way home, and his usual tactics of disguising the smell of cigarettes didn’t do anything. the elevators were about to close when he got in, and the cute, almost instantaneous scrunch of your nose broke his heart. silently cursing himself, brendon held himself back to not apologise, terrified of looking like an idiot in front of you.

and two years and an established relationship later, he still worries his smoking habits bothers you, as much as you tell him it doesn’t.

brendon feels awful because he has tried everything; nicotine gums and patches, meditation, cinnamon sticks and even wellbutrin, but nothing worked. he has considered trying zyn, but knew it would only make it worse.

you make your way out of your shared bathroom, hair still a bit wet and clad in his favourite black, silk camisole, only to find brendon sitting against your bed’s headboard, absentmindedly playing with his bulky zippo lighter and the sourest frown adorning his face.

“something happened, babe?” you ask him.

“i don’t know what else to do.” he says without looking at you.

“with what?”

“this!” he says, shaking the hand that held the lighter and slamming it against his face in defeat.

you sigh, face instantly softening at his distress. “some people say oral stimulation is good, maybe suck on a lollipop or something.”

“i know something i can suck on.” he quips with a naughty smile on his face.

“hey! i’m serious.” you slap his shoulder and straddle his lap. “how about a challenge?”

brendon raises an eyebrow. of course the idea of a challenge would get his attention, ever the competitor he is. “i’m listening.”

“thirty days. no smoking for you and no chocolates for me. if i win, you get me a coach brooklyn 39 in blue suede plus the cherry keychain.” you say and he hums in agreement. “if you win, i tattoo a little shark right here.” you lift the fabric of your camisole, pointing to the little space between your hip and crotch that always makes him lose it.

“right here?” he massages the place you just pointed at with his thumb.

“mhm.”

“deal.”

brendon park. park the shark. the ever so serious orthopaedics attending that you had the pleasure of meeting earlier today.

dermatology and orthopaedics rarely, if ever, cross paths, but something had aligned in the sky today and you and park were both called for consultations; him for three severed fingers and you for a skin tag that looked a lot like skin cancer, and robby finally introduced you two.

park’s reputation of being closed off and snarky preceded him. he wasn’t rude to you or anything like that, in fact, santos said she never saw him smile at someone like he did with you. but you did get a taste of his personality when poor whitaker asked him if it would take too long to get the patient to the OR.

“are you fucking serious?” jack asks and punctuates the question with a single hard thrust that makes you see stars.

“what is it?” you hear robby ask as he makes his way back from the bathroom in all his naked glory. he had just given you your first three orgasms of the night. robby grabs a bottle of water from the mini fridge you have in your bedroom, looking at jack, who scoffs, as he waits for an answer.

“i’m balls deep inside of her and she tells me that park the shark is hot.”

jack and robby exchanges a look and your giggles turn into a stretched out moan when jack starts to relentlessly pound your pussy again.

“you know, jack and i don’t like sharing, honey.” robby says, voice too sweetly, clearly mocking you. “i know jack and i are a little older, but aren’t we enough for you?”

“you a–are.” your voice falters and another almost painful whine leaves your lips when you see robby grab the satisfyer.

robby sits against the headboard, turning the toy on as jack pulls you flush to his chest, holding you tight against him so he can move your body with his. he sets you down again, position similar to the one he had you before, except this time, you lay your head against robby’s hairy, soft tummy, close to his limp dick.

so close that you give it a temptive lick. robby gives your ass a slap for that, and it burns immediately.

“flattery won’t get you anywhere, honey.” he fumbles with satisfyer, looking for his favourite setting before putting the toy against your clit at the same time jack starts pounding into you again. “now tell me, do you want park to fuck you?”

“n–no.”

“do you want us to share you with the shark?” jack asks.

“n–no! fuck!” robby amps the toy speed and you lost track of what you were saying. “i w–want to be y–yours only!”

“she’s squeezing me so hard, mikey.”

“yeah?” robby asks jack and turns to you. “your pussy only weeps for us, huh?” he pets your head.

“mhm.” you are so blissed out that you can only nod.

“tsk, i don’t know if i believe you.” robby counters, setting the toy’s speed higher again.

your legs starts to shake and your orgasm hit without a warning. jack and robby don’t stop what they are doing, riding your orgasm out for you, and you know it is going to be one of those nights.

you had met brendon at an adoption event out of all places. it was a sunny saturday morning, and both of you fell in love with the last two puppies from an american bully mix litter. while you waited for the volunteers to come fill out your adoption papers, you and brendon fell into easy conversation about life.

with you, he was the complete opposite of what people said he was at the hospital. brendon was funny, soft, charming and even a little bit shy. and that saturday you left the park with a new puppy and a date.

and that sweet way bled into your first time.

brendon reverenced you. kissed you like you had all the time in the world, felt all of the curves and bumps of your body with his hands without even taking your clothes off, and gave you your first orgasm of the night while dry humping like teenagers. the contrast was addicting, and you felt powerful knowing that the PTMC’s big white shark was putty in your hands.

brendon park is not just park the shark, he was also park the softie, but just for you.

both of you left your vehicles screaming bloody murder and cursing the other’s next generation, only to stop the moment you realised who you had backed into. the altercation instantly turned into hugs, shared laughs and a friendly conversation, with a promise from brendon to pay for your brand new ford bronco repair and an invite from you to dinner at yours.

night passed by like a blur, with brendon telling you he moved to the city around ten years ago for his ortho residency and never left. you, on the other hand, had just moved in after a promotion to head designer on the architectural firm you worked for back in NYC, who had just opened a brand new leg in pittsburgh and wanted you to be in charge of it.

brendon and you reminisced on college stories of drunk night outs and skinny dipping in the dark.

“you know, fucked up car aside, i really liked bumping into you, bren.” you teased as you dried the plate brendon insisted on washing, even after you told him, countless times, that you had a dishwasher. warmth spread over you with the bright smile brendon offered.

“me too, ace.” park confessed back, with a look of adoration in his eyes that you didn’t even notice he had said the stupid nickname you hated, the same one he used to call you a nerd during college.

the air around you was charged. the same tension – one so thick you would have to carve your way out with a knife – you felt during your party days, where your friends would ditch your companies to make out, and the two of you were too chicken shit to act on your feelings.

but your college days were long gone, you and brendon had matured enough to know that life was too short to waste the opportunities given by her, and next thing you knew, brendon’s cold and wet fingers squeezed your waist, eliciting a shrill from you that quickly turned into a soft moan when his lips met yours.

brendon was as desperate as you were as he hungrily kissed you, not letting you go once, not even when he circled his arms around your thighs and lifted you with practiced ease, sitting you on your countertop.

he trailed his lips to your chin and down your neck, peppering kisses until he found the sweet spot that made you melt.

“you have no idea how long i’ve wanted to do this.” brendon panted.

“probably for as long as i did– fuck!” you whined when he bit on the junction of your neck and shoulder, hips bucking against his.

his wet tongue felt like a refreshing droplet of water that insisted on escaping your lips on a hot summer day against your scorching skin, soothing its way on the path he trailed across your chest. brendon slow unbuttoning of your blouse made you antsy, “god, just yank it off.” you tried to command, but your voice was so mellow that brendon only held the wrist that tried to touch the bottom of your blouse.

“no, hold it. i want to savour this.”

robby woke up early the next morning, ordered too much food again for breakfast, basically everything he thought you might like and some more. jack had gone on a run and when he got back, he found the older man pacing around the balcony.

“trying to carve a path to the ocean?” jack joked, the laughter stopping when he saw the amount of food. “you’re anxious. what’s going on?”

robby nodded, pointing at your sleeping body. jack sighed. “we’ll ask for her phone and see how this goes. she’s a nice girl, i really… liked her too.” jack squeezed robby’s shoulder when he let out a defeated sound. “we’ll work it out.”

they didn’t hear the ruffling sounds of the sheets nor your footsteps, their conversation only being interrupted after you popped your head over jack’s shoulder and said in a chirpy but sleepy voice “good morning.”

they reciprocated. you saw the breakfast table and frowned in confusion “you invited more people?”

jack laughed and robby, embarrassed, answered “no, i don’t know your favourites, so…” he gestured at the assortment of foods.

“so you ordered the whole menu.” you laughed.

“yeah, basically.”

you made your way to robby, hugged his now covered by a white t-shirt torso and kissed his lips, just a small peck. “thank you.”

you felt a chest on your back, it’s jack sandwiching you between him and robby. “i want one too.” he says, stealing one kiss from you and one from robby.

you sat down to eat, made small talk about coming back to your respective homes, what you were going to do the next few days. it’s when you were in the middle of stuffing your face with some pain au chocolat that you hear jack clean his throat, trying to get your attention and some courage.

“we really liked you and we don't want this to end here and would love to keep in touch. see where this goes.”

you smile at them, nodding. “me too. give me your phones.”

jack was the only one with the device, and after you inserted your contact, he promised to send you robby’s.

it was when you were about to board the plane that you saw that jack had made a group chat for you three. you joked, asked him if he had to google how to make one. he told you that robby was the old one of the group, only to get a “🖕🏻” as a reply.

being honest, to say that you “kept in touch” after that one night was to underestimate what you had going on. you talked daily, sending pictures of before and after your shifts, what you were doing on days off, food or whatever you thought the other two would like.

jack and robby would visit you whenever they had any time off, either just one of them or, if by chance they could get time off together, the two of them would fly out to chicago to be with you.

it was nice, sometimes even a bit overwhelming, as you felt cared for in a way you had never felt before. neither of you dared to name what you had, and you weren’t going to be the one to do so in fear of losing it.

robby checked his phone every thirty seconds, his mind playing tricks on him with the phantom vibrations. dana had noticed the attending obsessing with his phone, something he never did, but it was princess that asked him “is everything ok, dr. robby?”

“yeah, everything is fine.” he nodded. “just waiting for a call.”

the woman nodded, turning to dana with wide, conspiring eyes.

not even five minutes later, he hears a voice calling “mikey.” in hushed tones, as if not trying to grab attention.

robby sees you by the emergency doors, doesn’t even look at dana when he tells her he is taking a break as he walks towards you. with a hand on the small of your back, he quietly guides you to one of the rooms used to talk to family members of patients privately.

robby closed the door, locking it. you were about to “hey” him when his lips crashed on yours. it caught you off guard, but it only took him guiding you to a wall for you to kiss him back. it was a bit messier than what robby’s kisses usually are, his anxiety seeping through it.

“hi.” you said, smiley and breathless.

robby hugged you tighter, his forehead on yours. “you have no idea how much i missed you, pretty girl.” he let go of you, but still held your hands. “so, how did it go?”

“i got it!” you beamed. “gloria and dr. nae said the position was basically mine already. they loved my cv, were impressed by my research and the letters you and vera sent. they just wanted to see me in person and show me the hospital.”

“that’s amazing, honey.” robby hugs you again. “what are you going to do now?”

“i’m going to the hotel. i came in straight from a double shift and i need to sleep.”

robby nods and kisses you again. he guides you out of the room, telling you should have stayed with either him or jack. he tells you they got the rest of the week off to be with you when you tell him you didn’t want to bother them.

you could feel eyes staring at the two of you as you walked by the central hub on your way out.

“who’s the hot blonde staring at us like she’s about to scold you?”

robby stops, and stares at you. “hot?” you give him an eyebrow raise. he sighs “that’s dana, she’s our head nurse.”

“nice. so i’ll be seeing her a lot.” you say, a mischievous smile growing on your face.

you feel robby’s grip on your waist tighten a bit and when you look up at him, the tip of his ears are red.

“oh my god, is that jealousy, mr. robinavitch?”

“no.” he says like a five year old.

“it is! aww, that’s cute.”

he gives you a pointed look and grabs your phone “where’s your uber?”

jesse walks by, saying good morning to you both.

“oh, who’s that?”

“nope.” robby says, pulling you into another kiss.

jack had insisted on taking you out to celebrate, somewhere nice where you three could eat some nice food and talk. you had to almost beg him to stay home, that all you wanted today was to be somewhere quiet with the both of them. “i’ve been pulling double shifts the past few weeks just so i could have a few days off with you here.” you told him.

so he agreed. picked up at your hotel, scolded you for not staying with either him or robby (you told him you didn’t want to bother them and he mumbled something you didn’t quite understand, but you were pretty sure mimicked you.), cooked your favourite while you sat on the stool by the kitchen counter, watching him.

robby arrived around 7:30 and jack joked, saying it was the first time robby left a shift on time.

dinner time felt domestic, you and robby helped set the table while jack finished the dishes, you talked, robby sharing a bit of the day, the older men told you a bit about how the hospital worked, talked about your future co-workers and the students.

you were sitting on the couch, laying on jack’s chest while robby massaged your feet when you started talking about moving to pittsburgh. you told them you were starting by the end of next month, so you had about forty five days to start the process.

your last shift is in ten days and you had already told your landlord that you’d be moving out, breaking your lease. he was a nice old man, and did what he could to reduce your early termination fee.

“i want to get here at least two weeks before i start working,” you groan when robby presses a tender spot. “so i can settle down calmly. i want to see if i can find anything near the ptmc.”

“there’s an apartment available in this building.” jack says.

you snort, turning your head to look at him. “i don’t have attending money, handsome.”

he hugs you tight. you sense him and robby exchanging looks, they always did this when they wanted to ask or tell you something they thought you might not agree on.

“you could live with one of us.” this time, unlike it usually is, it was robby suggesting.

you got up and sat down on the rug covered floor to look at the both of them.

“you don’t have to, it’s just a suggestion.” he backtracked.

“if you do want to stay with us,” jack began, knowing the voice inside robby’s head was sabotaging him. “you can have your own room, your own space if it’s something you need.”

robby agrees. “jack’s place is bigger than mine, closer to the hospital too and he works nights, so you’ll have time for yourself.”

you are silent. they can see your brain working overtime.

“tell us what you’re thinking.” jack pokes.

you sigh and run a hand through your hair before speaking. “i don’t want to intrude what you have.”

they look at you with puzzled faces.

“it’s you and robby, and i’m the–“

jack interrupts you. “it’s you, robby and me. it’s us three. you’re not someone we see on the side to make things fun.”

“did we ever make you feel like this, honey?” robby asks, voice so tender it made your eyes water.

“no.” you said, barely above a whisper. “i just didn’t want to assume anything. we never talked about what we had and i didn’t want to get my hopes up.”

jack pulls you back to his lap, making you assume your previous position, only this time to have robby lay on your tummy.

“we’ve been meaning to ask you this for a while now, but decided to wait until you’re here. it’s stupid and sorry we made you feel this way, but do you want to be our girlfriend?” jack finally asks.

“or partner. are we too old to have a girlfriend?” robby adds.

you laugh. “it’s fine, grandpas. you can have a girlfriend.”

they both poke you, one on each side. “so is that a yes?” jack questions you.

“mhm.” you bob. “i always wanted to have two boyfriends and for those boyfriends to be boyfriends too.”

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andrew cody felt like his luck was about to change the moment he left.

it was on a whim. smurf died and his world crumbled. everywhere he looked he saw her; the blackouts were constant, pope woke up in places he didn’t remember going to, wandered around the city aimlessly, hearing smurf’s voice telling him the vilest things a mother could say to a son.

so on a random wednesday night, andrew put all of his belongings on a duffle bag and his cut of the money on another, and hopped on his car, leaving behind a past of hurt and a note to deran and craig telling them to not come after him, that he would call them after he settled down.

pope drove all night and only stopped when the sun was rising in a small town in the middle of the desert in arizona.

his luck started that morning, when you, the pretty girl with a too big smile for six in the morning, sweetly greeted him when he asked for a room in the inn where you work as a receptionist.

in that moment, pope knew he had to settle right then and there.

“andyyy…” you stretch out his name the same way you stretch your limbs, still tangled between the soft sheets you love so much and still sleepy. “stay here with me.” you mumble, patting his space in bed beside you.

“i gotta open the shop, honey.” he says, lazy smile taking over his face as he looks at you. god, he loves it when you can him andy.

that morning he met you, after he had the calmest sleep he had in ages, he walked around the town and found a repair shop that was being sold by its owner’s children after he died of old age. it had everything pope needed to work inside, and wanting to grow roots in the city, he immediately bought it. he gave it a much needed renovation but kept the name for memory’s sake, and the business has been thriving ever since.

you groan. “do you have any cars that you need to give back today?”

“no. worked ‘em all yesterday.”

“see,” you lift your head, hair so messy he can barely see your features except for the overly pouty lips you are making. “you so can stay in bed with your girlfriend, who is going to cook you the most amazing breakfast when we wake up again.”

“this sounds a lot like bribery, you know?” pope takes his shirt and pants off, and pulls his sleep sweatpants back on. after he puts his clothes back on the wardrobe, he makes his way to you, laying down by your side.

“it’s not.” you tell him as you lay your head on his chest. “i just want a lazy day with my man.”

“what the fuck, bren!” you complain, finding your not boyfriend but something you don’t know how to name with a small, pleased smile on his face.

you met brendon on your first shift as a first year resident, on a day very similar to this one. everyone had warned you about the stoic “park the shark”, but your nonchalant personality and the way you didn’t buckle under his stern gaze was enough to have him take a liking on you, and have you at the end of the night in his bed.

“the influx is high and the patient is stable. robby asked me to stay and keep an eye on him.”

“alright. present.” he tells you as he starts to take the limb out of the bag.

you take a deep breath and exhale. “patient arrived conscious but we chose to sedate him due to the pain. cefazolin and gent administered as he walked in. arm is double bagged on ice. sterile saline on the inner bag, ice water in the outer bag, no ice-on-skin contact, obviously. clear chest, abdomen and pelvis.”

park takes a look at the x-ray. “good. good.” he turns to you. “missed you last night.”

you give him a shy smile. “shift was hard, i passed out as soon as i got home.” park gives you a side eyed look. “missed you too.”

“wound is clean, no crush injury and the perfect transport time. reimplantation is a go.” he turns to the red phone, murmuring something you can quite catch, but imagine it being about the OR. “room is booked. where is the saline?”

you point out to the cabinet near him. “what are you doing?”

“we’re irrigating this with three litres.” he tells you, setting the bags on a tray.

“don’t you have somewhere to go?”

“i’d rather be here helping you.” brendon says when he starts pouring the liquid over the arm. “you coming home with me today?”

nodding eagerly, you say “yeah.”