#hey guys..

The bland walls of the exam room enclosed Carter. Buzzing from the decades old fluorescent lights along with the muffled noise of typical patient chatter filled his ears. Everything burned – everything hurt. His face was first to turn red, whether it be from the stuffiness of the room or the tears he so badly tried to choke up, he assumed it was the latter.

With rapid blinks, everything seemed blurry. Everything seemed off. The agony spurred deep within his chest, blossoming into full on sobs. The grip Carter once thought he had over his emotions was no longer there. It withered away – maybe it was when the patient's mother who was onlooking from the trauma room window, maybe when he had to continuously perform CPR for forty five minutes on a woman he’d knew would end up dying, or maybe when the last amp of epi was pushed, or maybe when he called it and declared her time of death.

Carter never liked showing emotion. From the time he was a little boy, up into every patient death he tried not to exhibit himself. There was always a deep rooted agony that rose whenever he got like this. Years of physical abuse from his brother, emotional abuse from his parents, and sexual abuse from his maid among various other older women he was too young to be caught up with, all taught him to push it down. Keep things a secret. Never let anything up – and never ever – allow for someone to see it. It was like some sort of sick tripartite for Carter.

The Carter men are strong. They don’t cry, but despite the odds, John Truman Carter III unfortunately did.

“John?”

Lucy. The one he’d known would chase after him. She always did. With Lucy Knight, he found himself breaking the rules that were grilled into him from a young age.

Her voice came out earnest and soft, something Carter had become accustomed to over the years, followed by the squeaking sound of tennis shoes against the sheet vinyl flooring. Lucy showed emotion. Frequently, actually. Almost like an elegant stream of tears that flowed down her cheeks at any given time. Whether or not Carter wanted to admit it, she was a breath of fresh air. It was an all too familiar reflection of his past empathy, fluidity with emotions, and eagerness for the job.

Lucy was empathetic to a fault. Even though everyone advised her too, she didn’t press charges against Paul Sobriki, something Carter and his family did the exact opposite of. Lucy asserted how she understood his condition(s) and what that brings on. It was actually impressive how.. understanding she was. To Carter, Sobriki was getting off with a slap on the wrist, but to Lucy it was enough for him to struggle to live with schizophrenia everyday.

With one love tap, the exam room door flew open under her touch. Determined to not let Lucy see him like this, he whirled away from the door. By the way her footsteps slowed, it was obvious she was taking the cautious approach. She knew his body language all too well.

“I knew you’d be in here,” she shut the door behind her, closing the discolored blinds along with it. “It was either this or the roof, but the way you walked I assumed you – anyways. Are you okay?”

The question was stupid and by the way a hiss fled from her mouth quickly after, she knew it was too. Lucy wasn’t stupid either. Even with Carter’s back facing her, it was evident he’d been feeling something, given the way he was still lightly trembling.

“Everything’s fine,” the sarcastic drawl he intended just came out more choked and worn down in delivery than he expected. With a quick rub of his eyes, all his tears were decimated, vanished, never to be seen again. It’s not like Lucy wasn’t used to him crying. Matter of fact, he’d probably cried in front of her more than anyone he had ever known. But this, this was work. It wasn’t when they were recovering anymore. Despite it all, he was still her superior. It was Carter’s fuckup and he wasn’t interested in making it a teaching lesson. And for the sake of everyone, the patients, his coworkers, Lucy, he had to be strong at least somewhere.

Once again, the sound of her squeaky tennis shoes were audible as they echoed throughout the room when she stepped closer. With every squeak, the agony dug itself into his bones. It’d break the barrier he thought was so strong between them – she’d think he’s weak or self pitying.. or useless or.. helpless or.. all of the above and more.

Now that she was in front of him, it was hard to look away. Everything seemed meniscal when she looked his way. Her eyes burned, not necessarily with desire, but the urge to nurture, to take care of something that was broken down deep inside of him. Her eyes, though visibly a cool blue, were warm and inviting. There was something so mystifying about how she managed to keep the sweet look in her eyes, seemingly undeterred by anything that had happened to her.

But as much as it was hard to look away, it was easier to not look at all. Her gaze was fixed onto Carter, his head bowed down while his leg was sporadically bouncing. The thought that maybe, just maybe, she could get his thoughts out of him– allow for him to open up without the fear so evident in his body language was enough for her to stay.

“You did great during that trauma. If that’s any consolation.”

He rolled back his shoulders, the tiniest bit of tension releasing from his body. Did she talk to psych patients like this? All sweet and calm? Something about that thought was comforting to him. Lucy could take care of Carter. She could listen. And she wouldn’t leave. She wouldn’t despise him for it. It’d just be.. Lucy and Carter talking.

“It felt like I blacked out. I just remember– I heard the cries of her mother. Even though everyone was talking all at once, I could hear her, so I tried. I did everything I could. I felt this like– uh–” Stabbing. Stabbing. Stabbing. There’s no reason to hide. “Piercing sensation. Here,” slowly he moved his hand down, tracing over the scar present on his back. “Some part of me thought I could save her.”

“But you didn’t. You’re a doctor. It’s good to be sad, feel empathy, but sometimes.. It happens. We can’t save everyone.”

We. A team.

“Lucy,” finally, his gaze diverted once more towards Lucy’s eyes and the feeling of warmness he deeply craved filled throughout his body. “I sent her home because I didn’t see the ST elevation.” She kept her same warm demeanor, but he saw it flinch ever so slightly. It was a reflection of Lucy, his dismissiveness towards her that eventually resulted in her being stabbed. “I thought it was acute gastroenteritis. Rehydrated her with fluids and electrolytes. When I went back in to check on her.. she was limp.”

“John,” her voice was quiet, like anything would disturb his vulnerability. Warily, her hand lifted, gently running her fingers through his hair. Lucy was, and will always be, the emotional barometer between them.

“She reminded me of you,” bile rose in his throat. A dull ache flowed through his body, digging deep into every scar. He could never escape it, even at the place where he could distract himself the most. “I made a rookie mistake. I was dismissive,” sobs began to ring out from his throat, “Nothing can make up for that. I couldn’t even.. look the mother in her eyes.”

It was something that Lucy had thought of, but didn’t dare to entertain. Carter’s the reason Lucy was stabbed. Maybe the silence should’ve helped her process her own emotions, but, alas, it didn’t. Amidst the quietness, Carter’s light sniffling can be heard. In a way, it was romantic to her. He could cry. And it was okay. He could admit things to her. And everything would be okay. In a sense, they were yin and yang. Different, but interconnected. Always balancing each other out.

Carter let go. No more holding back – no more pushing down sobs. He wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her closer. He leaned his head against her stomach, letting every repressed tear out. Thankfully, the blouse under her white coat was a deep shade of purple.

Lucy quietly shushed him, raking her hands through his hair as he sobbed. He was murmuring a mix of solutions, excuses, or reasons as to why that woman died, but it all just mixed in with his messy sobs. He was practically glued onto her, clinging so tight Lucy was sure his hands were pallor.

“Lucy?”

Something about his voice was so naive to the point it was endearing. It was like he’d formed into a twenty-three year old Carter, like he was a third year again. She’d never seen him so.. trusting, vulnerable, in touch with his emotions, and it made something stir inside her.

“Yes?”

He reluctantly loosened his grip on her, returning his weight onto the bed. A deep breath of his echoed through the silent, but comfortable room. A feeling of heat coursed through his body. He was safe with Lucy. Safety. It was something that seemed so far now, but was so easily in his reach now. He wanted to drink up every ounce of safety she could provide.

The moment she locked gazes with his wide-eyes, it was over for her. She’s oh, so close to peeking into something so blissfully forming inside of Carter. This time, he seemed closer towards the end of the bed. His feet pointed directly towards her. Something about him seemed ready, eager almost, like he’d been expecting for this emotion to arise. The blinking away tears were now replaced with the licking of his reddish lips.

Everything in him wanted to feel normal around Lucy. He wanted to be the person who could speak to her, help her, teach her without feeling anything. He wishes so deeply he could just wash her off after his shift ends, but alas, that never happens. Carter doesn’t have one normal bone in his body, at least not when he’s around Lucy Knight. He’s changed, undeniably yes, but that same feeling he always used to get around Lucy settled comfortably in his stomach.

Lucy shivered at the feeling of his hands sprawled across her waist. With every second that passed, she was subconsciously easing closer towards him. Every detail on her face was red, she was sure of it. A newfound heat settled over the tips of her ears. Quickly, she pulled off her white coat. Carter took one hand off her waist to help, throwing it somewhere in the corner of the room. Hot she mouthed towards him. It was a waiting game now. Who would be the first to give in? Who would be the first to accept that maybe their desire was connected to their dejection all this time?

Lucy was a strong woman. She’d been stabbed, recovered, and subsequently done (enough) healing mentally and physically to continue working in the same place it happened. It was hard to return to work. It was hard to repeat a year. It was hard to work alongside her past mentor. Though now, it seemed harder having restraint around him.

Maybe it was cliche: a boss and subordinate, a teacher and student, a mentor and mentee. Maybe she should do the right thing, don’t give into a possible tornado of a relationship again, don’t give into his sweet eyes and somber smile, but it didn’t seem like Lucy to be rational around him. They could start over, give into every whim they thought about years ago, and find a semblance of happiness together. It was possible, that maybe a kiss, or maybe a fuck could wither way any sense of angst she felt around him. Fucking him wouldn’t make anything normal, in fact Lucy knew it’d make them both into deluded, concupiscent creatures, but it was a start to whatever fantasy both of them had in mind.

On the other hand, Carter wasn’t strong. Repression often led to the crumbling of any shield he had up. Everything was momentary for him. Pleasure, happiness, grief, even sorrow. One moment here, gone the next. Now, with Lucy in front of him, gleaming eyes and all, things seemed as if they could be everlasting. She could be the moon and he could be the tides that follow her every move.

As soon as their lips touched, it’s back to radiology all those years ago. This time though, he feels more confident. No more denying, or constantly checking the door. Just like how it used to be, his hand wandered up to her back, fully pulling her onto his lap. She adjusted herself, whimpering at the feeling of his hardness brushing against her thigh.

For one moment, the too-horny-to-function-properly John Carter pulled away, his chest heaving. “Lucy,” he breathed out against her lips. His hands found their way back to her waist. Lucy cocked her head, a pleased grin covering her face, “Need you.”

Like Lucy had predicted, Carter would be the first to give in.

“Get on the table.”

Well, who would Lucy be if she didn’t listen and follow directions?

Quickly, Carter stood up and observed as she listened, laying back on the exam table that was once in front of her. For a moment, he hoovered above her, watching Lucy as her chest heaved up and down, but it wasn’t long before both of their clothes joined Lucy’s white coat in the corner. It was quick. First, Lucy’s dark purple blouse, then Carter’s dark blue collared shirt was unbuttoned, then her scrub pants, and then his pants. All in a pretty pile of clutter on the floor.

The weight of the bed shifted as Carter climbed on top of Lucy. He leaned down, kissing across the seemingly faded scar from her tracheostomy. Something coated his lips. Maybe foundation, or some sort of powder, but much to Lucy’s dismay, Carter would always be able to see right through it.

Her soft hands slithered into his hair, once again running her hands threw it as he moved lower. The shame over her scars was lurking beneath every whimper she let out due to his touch. It was all too intimate in a way she’d never seen Carter before. He was murmuring something unintelligible as he moved from her neck down to her thoracotomy scars, and then towards her laparotomy scars.

Carter had always wondered how they’ve healed. Maybe it was perverse of him to daydream, but he did. They’ve healed nicely and have slowly begun blending in with her skin tone, a stark difference from the first few months after. He’d heard about her thoracotomy– how it had to be opened multiple times. The scarring wasn’t as pristine as some surgeons would’ve liked, but, as cliche as it sounds, it was beautiful to Carter. It was proof she was real– she was in his grasp. She was still alive.

Her throat burned as she watched him go down. She hadn’t been on a date for the last few years, let alone had sex. The shame was all too persistent with Lucy. No amount of therapy, or journaling would help it go away. It wasn’t something she could change. She could lose weight, or cut her hair, or maybe dye it a darker brown, but her scars would always be there. Always a lurking reminder of the pain she had sporadically endured that night. Lucy just kept a tight grip on his hair, trying desperately to ground herself in the moment.

“It’s cliche, but,” Carter lifted his head, “You’re beautiful.”

The cheesiness was enough to make Lucy gag, but it was sweet, alluring even. It was nice to be adored, instead of gawked at. Despite all her warm welcomes back, there had been countless doctors who stared at her like she wasn’t real. It was nice to feel real in front of someone. To Carter, she wasn’t a figment of his imagination, she was real.

“I have yet to see your scars.”

“You did the other day,” he made his way back up, pressing a final kiss to her lips. “When I bent over to pick up a chart. You were there, conspicuously acting like you were cleaning up. I could tell my shirt had rode up, and I felt you staring.”

It was true. Any chance she had to see his scar, she looked. It was like a car crash– she could never look away. Their matching laparotomy scars was something she’d thought about one too many times. They’re intertwined forever.

“I would never do that.”

He just let out a soft chuckle as he settled between her legs, “I bet you wouldn’t.” It was all too condescending. Supposedly for Carter, old habits die hard.

Cater finally freed his cock from his boxers. Even without Lucy touching him, he was already leaking precum. Carter wanted to prolong her aroused state for as long as he could. Well, at least as long as he could go without slamming into her. In the back of his mind, the thought lingered that they’d never be like this again. It was a thought too easy to dismiss, especially when Lucy was practically drooling at the sight of his cock.

Lucy’s eyes widened as he slowly began stroking his cock. Every second watching him felt like an hour had gone by. It was silent, nothing except Lucy’s heavy breathing and whining to be heard in the room. The ache had deepened, going from a dull hum of arousal to needing to be pounded into oblivion.

It wasn’t unbeknownst to Carter that she was gagging for it. It was easy to notice how wet she was, practically glistening even under the darkness of the exam room. Perfect to tease and Lucy knew it. She was growing antsy, evident by the way she was squirming beneath him. Within an instance, he began slapping his cock against her slit, intermittently moving ever-so slightly inside of her. A plethora of whines escaped her lips as his cock slid against her. He was just adding fuel to the already enormous fire.

It was almost embarrassing to Lucy how natural he felt against her. She wanted every inch buried deep inside her. It didn’t matter when or where, she had an insatiable desire that burned in her throat. “Please,” her voice broke. “Fuck me. Need you inside of me.” It was a confession that had been on the tip of her tongue for whatever vast duration of time they’d been like this. By the way his hips slightly shuddered at the admission exiting her lips. Lucy knew Carter wouldn’t be able to deny her of her needs, especially not when she was soaking wet and practically begging for it.

Carter took a deep breath and spoke, “Okay.” It was all he could manage to breathe out. There were a million thoughts running through his head, but not one part of his brain could figure out the words for it. As he buried himself inside of her, a simple ‘okay’ began to seem just right for Lucy. Carter placed a hand on her chest, fucking in and out of her, making sure to put every single inch inside of her.

Lucy was quick to wrap her legs around his waist, digging all ten of her fingers into his back. Close just isn’t close enough. She needed to be scar to scar, practically merging into each other's skin. Lucy couldn’t hold back a single feeling. She was murmuring something while her face was nuzzled into the crook of his neck. No longer was she able to tell whatever was coming out of her mouth. A mix of his name, some cussing, a mix of blasphemous phrases, along with a myriad of nicknames she was too embarrassed to even ponder why they left her mouth. Pure pleasure tingled up her spine and through every nerve of her body as his pace quickened. The continuous grunting that spilled from Carter’s lips and flowed to her ears was enough to make her cum on the spot. She clinged onto him tight, the warmness of his body was addicting.

Once again, Carter’s lips found their way to her body, kissing her shoulderblades and repeating how you’re so fucking beautiful Lucy. This time, his kisses were more wet. He sucked until there were marks that’d be there for at least a few days. There was a certain feeling she had long repressed that had come up to the surface as he repeated her name like a mantra. He was marking her, claiming her. Lucy was his.

Sheer hot pleasure flowed through his body as he watched Lucy’s face scrunch in all the ways he never thought it could. His hand wandered down to her clit, feverishly rubbing circles with his thumb. Much to his delight, she cried out his name, continually squirming at the overwhelming touch.

“Shh, You have to be quiet, okay?” Dumbly, she nodded, perfectly listening to his commands. The sweetness behind his words was enough to make everything feel fuzzy. So intimate, so reflective of what they could be, what they both so badly wanted it to be. It was almost enough to make her feel like they weren’t at a hospital, but at home in his big mansion in his humongous bed. Maybe, if she closed her eyes tight enough, they’d both be floating.

His back pain was slowly returning with every thrust. A flash of pain flowed through him, but it was all so worth it to see Lucy slowly unfolding. This time, her eyes brimmed with tears as he kept circling her clit. It hurt so good. Carter didn’t care if his pain was ten times worse tomorrow, as long as he got to fuck her into oblivion like he knew she wanted.

“I’m close,” Lucy whimpered as she pulled away from his neck and laid fully back onto the bed. “Can’t help it.” There was a sort of desperate tone in her voice that he never heard before. He’d broken her down, officially. Suddenly, he figured out what pure bliss felt like. Carter kept his rhythm steady, slowly watching as she got closer, and closer, and closer to the edge.

“God. Fuck– Lucy– Fuck. Please cum. You’re doing– fuck– so good. So perfect.”

The words were enough for her to fully let go. A multitude of ‘John’s’ spilled from her lips as she kept her grip tight onto him. For a moment, it was just them together. In her head, the room was black with just Carter above her. Like all things pleasurable though, they come to an end. When she finally came back down, she could feel Carter’s hips begin to falter. A sweet smile adorned his face as he continued.

“Cum inside of me.”

It didn’t take much convincing on his part. Within an instant, he was filling her full of his cum. Neither of them had really thought about the consequences of his cum deep inside of her, nor did they either care.

After they both departed from the exam room, suspiciously at that, they wouldn’t talk for the rest of their shifts. Despite this, that wouldn’t stop Lucy from bumping into him any chance she could. To her, it was nice to see all the recent memories flood back on his face in real time.