A Hero’s Welcome
It seems I’ve developed a penchant for writing one shots for Maurice Compte’s bit characters. This is a bit of a deep cut. (~1200 words)
Pairing: Charlie/f!Reader (Maurice Compte in E-Ring)
Warnings: I forgot the smut. Oh my gad, I forgot the smut! What’s wrong with me? I’ve gone soft.
Context: This picks up after Season 1, episode 2 of E-Ring. Sergeant First Class Charlie Gutierrez of Delta Force was on an especially dangerous mission. He was almost fatally wounded, but after being "airlifted" (seriously go watch the episode, network TV is wild, and duct tape is amazing) to safety, he is home and on the mend. The story picks up after he rolls in to a hero's welcome.
You're sitting at a picnic table surrounded by people you don't really know that well. You'd just moved into the neighborhood and Beth, being one of the only people you'd met, had invited you over for a barbecue. You knew her husband was in the military and had been gone a long time. You didn't know any of the details, but you doubt few people did anyways.
As you consider getting up for a drink, and turn around to do so, you see the man of the hour rolling over towards you.
Wait, me? You think to yourself, trying not to swivel your head in confusion. But he's looking right at you, 2 unopened beers in his lap.
"Care for a drink?" He offers.
"Well," you consider, "I can't really refuse a hero, now can I? Think of the optics."
He smiles broadly and hands you a beer. You clock those dark eyes and boyish dimples and know immediately that you're in trouble.
You both crack them open and he clinks his bottle against yours.
"What are we drinking to?" You ask.
"I'm not sure. I'm just glad to be here. Or anywhere for that matter. Cheers."
"Cheers." You say mirroring his smile.
"So I guess my first question is…" you put down the beer on the picnic table. You turn back to face him and hold out your fists, palms up. "I'll give you two options." Opening your right hand you say "I want to ask what happened. But I realize asking you to relive a traumatic incident is kind of a dick move, and you've probably had to recount the story several times anyway. So that's the red pill. Or," you continue, opening your left palm,"you can take the blue pill and tell me about what you like to do in your spare time."
"Well, I've taken enough pills recently to last a lifetime, but I'll go with the blue pill." He says, amused. He takes a swig of his beer. "When I'm not saving the world, I like to offer beer to pretty girls."
You giggle a little more than you meant to.
"So I guess when you don't have the wheelchair to fall back on, you rely on cheesy pickup lines." You say with a glint of mischief in your eyes.
"Maybe I'm out of practice, I've been gone a while."
"Well, don't give up. It's working." You whisper the last part conspiratorially.
You both grin at each other like idiots for what seems like a while.
Someone calls his name from across the yard and he realizes he has to make the rounds.
"So when I get out of this chair, can I take you out to dinner?"
"I'd love that."
"Oh, I gotta run. Or roll I guess. I'll get your number from Beth, Okay?"
"Sure, see you around." You say and proceed to finish your beer.
*******
He calls you a few days later. Wow, that was a quick recovery, you think.
"I know you mentioned saving the world, but I didn't think it was because you were a legitimate superhero with magical healing powers." You say after the standard phone pleasantries.
"It turns out I can't wait." He says with a smile in his voice.
"I've been thinking about you too." You admit before you can realize how embarrassed it makes you feel. You wonder if he can hear you blushing through the phone.
"Well, I'm not ready to go dancing just yet, but I was thinking you could come over for some takeout and a movie."
"That sounds perfect."
You arrange the time, get the address and after you hang up, go into your closet and excitedly consider your wardrobe.
*******
The agreed upon evening arrives and you've tried to make yourself as cute casual as you can muster. On the way over you pick up some beer and a bag of popcorn.
You knock on the door and it takes him some time to answer, understandably. He stands with some effort to open the door and greet you, but sits down in his wheelchair again quickly.
You enter and put down the food and drinks on the dining room table.
It's a small house, a pretty standard bachelor pad really, beige and sparsely decorated. It's not like he's home that often you assume.
He's still not fully used to the chair, so you bring the bag of recently delivered Chinese food along with some plates and cutlery over to the coffee table, while he gets situated on the couch. He apologizes for making you do all of the work, but you reassure him that you really don't mind.
Sitting side by side, you tuck into your meals. The conversation is light and easy and you are both relaxed and in no hurry.
After filling yourselves, you pack away the leftovers (how is there always so much Chinese food left?). You sit back down on the couch.
You both settle on watching a drama that had gotten good reviews but didn't seem especially fascinating. Admittedly neither of you are overly interested in the movie and just want an excuse to spend more time together.
As the movie starts, you open the popcorn. You both start nibbling and wash it down with some beer. After you both sit facing the TV for a few awkward minutes you finally lean towards him to make yourself more comfortable, but you hesitate. "I don't quite know how to ask this, but where is off limits? I don't want to reinjure you."
"My right side around my ribcage is pretty sore, but otherwise I'm doing okay." He says.
Luckily you're sitting on his left.
You lean over and put your head on his shoulder. It's firm and warm and he wraps his arm around you. As you are both lulled into the comfortable position you reach your left hand across him to stroke his neck. He turns to look at you and you lift your head. He leans in and kisses you and you close your eyes, feeling his soft, moist lips pressed against yours. He tries to lean into the kiss further, but winces, having over extended his right side.
"Are you okay?" You ask, concerned.
"Yeah, I'll be fine." he says leaning back on the couch. "It's a shame we'll have to wait until I heal to," he pauses, "do anything further."
"I agree," you subtly lick your lips, "but it's kind of nice we have to wait. This way you'll have to keep feeding me like a stray cat until I won't stop coming back for more."
He raises an eyebrow. "I didn't think the Chinese food was that good."
"That's not what I'm really hungry for." you say with lidded eyes.
He smiles and you raise yourself off the couch. You kiss him again while he leans back comfortably and proceed to make out like teenagers as best as he can under the circumstances.
He decides that this is going to be an excellent road to recovery.














