#male!reader

The R.P.D. lobby felt cavernous but not from its size but rather for the lack of survivors or police force, leaving behind a hollow silence that pressed faintly against your ears.

Dust hung everywhere, faintly visible in the dim, fractured light filtering through high windows and the marble floors were now streaked with grime and darker stains you refused to examine too closely.

Leaning back against one of the wooden desks, edge digging faintly into your lower spine through the layers of your gear, arms wrapped tightly across your chest. The tactical vest felt heavier with its straps that snug across your shoulders.

Your fingers tucked under your arms, gripping your sleeves, more for something to hold than warmth.

Leon stood a few steps away, hands raised slightly as he adjusted his own vest, tugging at the straps and outlining the firm lines beneath in a way that was hard not to notice even in a situation like this and his brows furrowed as he glanced around, blue eyes wide with disbelief and tension.

“This place is completely empty,” he muttered, voice echoing.

Tilting your head back slightly, eyes half-lidded as they stared toward the ceiling for a moment before answering.

“Considering what’s happening outside,” you muttered, shifting your weight and glancing toward the shuttered entrance, “I’m not surprised.”

Your gaze drifted back to him, watching the way his jaw tightened just a fraction as he processed that.

“We should check if anyone’s still here,” you added after a beat, pushing yourself off the desk just slightly. “This is where we were supposed to start, right? First day.”

There was something faintly bitter about the way the words landed.

Leon nodded quickly, almost reflexively. “Yeah. Yeah, you’re right.”

His attention shifted toward the gate leading to the est side of the station, shoulders squaring just a bit in instinctive readiness.

He stepped closer, eyes scanning the mechanism and you followed more slowly, arms dropping from your chest as you approached.

His fingers hovering near the big red button there and, when he pressed it, the mechanism groaned to life with a grinding sound that echoed down the hallway beyond.

The gate began to lift, slow and uneven, metal scraping faintly as it rose just enough to create a narrow gap before it abruptly stopped.

“You’ve got to be kidding me.” Irritation in your tone flaring sharper than you expected.

Leon lowered himself down onto the floor without hesitation despite the dark smears that streaked across the tiles, metallic and stale smell hitting faintly.

He didn’t seem to care, or maybe he was just better at pushing it aside.

Lying flat, he angled his body toward the gap, one arm stretching forward as he clicked on his flashlight, the beam cutting into the darkness beyond.

You should have been focused on that but, instead, your gaze betrayed you as it dropped and lingered.

The vest hugged his back and stretched over defined lines of broad but not bulky shoulders.

Leon shifted, then quickly pulled himself back from the gap, pushing up onto one knee.

“I’m gonna check it out,” he said, lowering the flashlight slightly as he looked up at you. “There might be people down there.”

“What?” The response came out sharper than intended as you dropped down to one knee yourself, instinct kicking in. “No—no, I’m coming with you.”

Angling yourself toward the opening, ready to follow him through the narrow space despite the mess and smell. “I’m not letting you go alone.”

For a split second, surprise flickered across his face along something softer underneath it that made his eyes warm.

He reached out before you could move further, his hand settling on your shoulder.

It wasn’t rough or forceful, warm even through the layers of fabric.

“Hey,” he said, voice dropping just a little, gentler, like he was trying to ease you rather than argue. His thumb shifted slightly where it rested, the corners of his mouth lifted to form a small.

“I’ll be back in no time,” he continued, his tone carrying that quiet confidence that made it hard to argue, even when you wanted to. “You stay here, alright? If anyone comes in, they’re gonna need someone to help them.”

His hand squeezed your shoulder lightly before he pulled back.

And you hated how easily that look in his eyes unraveled your resolve.

So you nodded and watched him disappear through the narrow opening.

Time stretched as you tried to convince yourself that he’d be back any second.

It felt like hours had passed of barely shifting your weight, pacing a short line near the table to somehow make time move faster.

“Idiot,” you muttered under your breath, though whether it was directed at him or yourself wasn’t entirely clear.

Probably both.

Scrubbing a hand over your face, exhaling sharply as frustration coiled tighter in your chest.

All because, when he looked at you in that soft and earnest look, it felt… too good.

He wanted to protect you because you mattered to him.

That was the closest thing you were ever going to get, wasn’t it?

A hand on your shoulder, a promise he might not even be able to keep.

You bit the inside of your cheek, the sharp sting grounding just enough to break the spiral.

Enough.

Waiting wasn’t doing anything.

If he wasn’t coming back, you needed to find out why.

Turning on your heel and moving toward the lobby’s computer system, fingers moving quickly over the controls as you pulled up the camera feeds. The screens flickered to life one by one, each showing a different part of the station as you cycled through them, faster and faster, scanning for any sign of him.

Faint gunshots echoed through the speakers from one of the west side cameras.

You had trained for this, graduated alongside him and gone through the same drills and expectations.

That bright and determined smile will not be the last thing you’ll see of him.

Turning toward the taped gate, your eyes caught a knife half-hidden near the base.

Crouching and picking it up carefully before using the blade to slide under the tape with a satisfying rip, sound loud in the quiet lobby as you worked through the layers, peeling them away one by one until the controls were finally exposed.

A large red button sat at the center and, once pressed, the mechanism groaned, gate lifting steadily and fully without stopping.

Standing there for a second as the opening widened before stepping forward.

The room you forced your way into was smaller than you expected, more of a cramped connector than a proper office.

Gun forward and flashlight aligned just beneath it as you advanced, beam cutting clean lines through the dimness, illuminating overturned chairs and a smear of something dark dragged across the floor, breathing staying controlled even as your pulse pressed harder against your throat.

At the far end, a door that you already knew where it led with the map you’d studied moments ago burned into your mind, that long hallway stretching across the west side.

Your hand reached for the handle slowly, fingers tightening just slightly before you turned it.

Rather than rapidly invading the room, you shifted to the side, pressing your back lightly against the wall as you pushed the door open to create a narrow angle, your head tilting so you could peek through first, minimizing your profile the way you’d been taught.

Two figures at the far end of the hallway, slumped awkwardly against the wall, head tilted at an unnatural angle, skin pale in the weak wash of moonlight spilling through a distant window.

Your breath caught at closer look on the other one.

Even in partial shadow and the distortion of low light, your heart recognized Leon immediately.

Pushing the door open wider and stepping in, feet quiet against the floor as you approached, closing the distance carefully until you were no more than ten feet away.

He was kneeling near the body of a cop, from the look of the uniform, sprawled across the tiles and as your boot made the faintest sound against the ground Leon moved insanely quick, surging up from his kneeling position in one fluid, coiled motion, pivoting sharply as his arm snapped up, handgun already aligned with your center mass while his flashlight flared directly into your face, blinding in its intensity.

“Don’t—!” The word cut sharp and rough, far more hardened than the voice you had heard in the lobby.

Everything about him was different, stance much tighter and efficient, the way he held the gun was fluid and practiced under pressure.

The jacket he had on hit you first.

A thick B-3 bomber, shearling lining spilling out at the collar in pale, dense curls that brushed against his neck.

Scuffs marked the surface, subtle creases worn into the leather.

Beneath it, his frame was… bigger.

Not just lean like you had always seen him, but built. Arms filling the sleeves, faint strain across his chest when he shifted his aim.

His hair was slightly longer, falling just enough to frame his face differently.

But his eyes were still blue and unmistakably his, cold at first.

Recognition morphed his features as tension in his shoulders faltered and his gaze locked onto your face.

His gun lowered, flashlight dipping with it, no longer blinding you but instead casting a softer glow that revealed his expression fully now.

Not just recognition swarmed his face, something warmer as well came in that settled low in your chest.

“You’re here too, Babe?” He said, voice rougher than anything you’d ever heard from him before.

Heat flooded your face instantly, sudden and overwhelming, brain stumbling over itself trying to process that along with everything else.

“What?” Your eyes narrowed despite the warmth creeping up your neck. “Leon, what are you talking about? We came in here together.”

That only made his confusion deepen, brows pulling together, gaze flicking around the hallway as his jaw tightened, like every inch of this place held memories you couldn’t see but he could feel pressing in on him.

Your gaze broke from his haunted one, dragging instead toward the cop with his jaw completely torn on the side and hanging awkwardly, his head lolled back against the wall.

“Did you see who—” You swallowed hard, forcing the bile back down but stopped talking after seeing Leon’s attention fixed upward, body tense again in focused attention.

There were a jagged hole in the ceiling before something too large and wrong, tipped with elongated claw-like fingers, erupted from it.

An inhuman shriek split the air, vibrating through your bones as the thing pulled itself into view.

Its body was flayed, muscle exposed in slick, glistening strands that stretched and contracted as it moved, skin entirely absent as if peeled away to reveal the anatomy beneath. Its head was made of an exposed brain that pulsed faintly, vulnerable and yet somehow more horrifying for it.

A long tongue snaked outside of his mouth as it crawled forward with unnatural speed.

Leon’s large and gloved hand found yours.

“Yeah,” he muttered, already pulling you with him, pace immediate and urgent as he dragged you down the hallway. “Because one nightmare wasn’t enough.”

His tone was dry, edged with a sharp sarcastic bite that felt completely out of place.

You stumbled slightly trying to keep up, grip tightening on your gun as your feet scrambled to match his speed, the world blurring at the edges as adrenaline surged and from behind that tongue lashed out.

A violent tug came at your back as it latched onto your uniform, fabric stretching and tearing as the force yanked hard, ripping away fully your gears and layers beneath, the sudden exposure sending a sharp chill across your skin as the creature lost its grip just as quickly.

Leon didn’t let you go until he hit hard two doors, bursting through with brute force as they slammed open and dragging you inside with him in one continuous motion.

Soon after he pulled you in his arms, back colliding with his chest in a solid impact.

The thickness of his chest pressed against you through the layers acting like a pillow, pecs firm and broad, rising and falling with controlled breaths that you could feel against your back. Beneath that, even through the tight shirt, there was no mistaking the defined strength of his torso.

This was not the same Leon you’ve known for many years, not even close.

His arm wrapped around your chest, bicep thick and swelling as they locked you in place against him as his other hand raised the gun again, aiming past you toward the doorway just as the creature dropped down.

One shot and the bullet precisely struck its exposed brain with a wet impact, the shriek it let out was high-pitched and furious before it skittered back, retreating with unnatural speed.

Leon moved fast, pulling away just long enough to slam the doors shut, grabbing a chair and jamming it under the handle as guttural groans from zombies echoed from the other side.

Heavy banging followed relentlessly.

Adrenaline faded away and your legs crashed all at once, dropping you to the ground as the reality of everything hit in a dizzying wave.

Before you could fully process it he was there, kneeling in front of you.

“Hey…hey,” his hand came up to cradle your cheek, large and warm, thumb brushing lightly against your skin in a way that felt impossibly gentle and intimate. “Babe, look at me.”

“What year is it?” he asked.

The question, like everything else happening, hit wrong.

“1998,” you answered, confusion twisting tighter as the pounding on the door grew louder. “Why are you asking me that?”

Something shifted in his eyes in understanding.

Without another word, he shrugged off his jacket quickly and draped it around your shoulders, pulling it snug around you with careful hands, fingers brushing against your arms as he adjusted it.

It was warm and soft on the inside, shearling lining cushioning against your skin, scent of leather and his wrapped all around your frame.

“There we go,” his lips quivered slightly as he muttered, almost to himself. “You always like to take it from me. Still cute.”

The chair behind him shifted as it toppled over once the doors burst open, two figures stumbling in, decayed and groaning.

Leon moved instantly up on his feet, gun raised and the first shot snapped clean through one of their skulls, impact jerking its head back as it staggered.

He didn’t wait, closing the distance in a flash, knife in hand, so similar to yours it made your breath hitch, and drove it into the creature’s neck with brutal precision before pivoting sharply.

His leg came up in a powerful roundhouse kick that connected solidly with the second zombie’s head, force snapping it sideways as it collapsed.

“Go,” he said, voice sharp and commanding without even looking back at you when he spoke. “I’ll catch up.”

Reluctantly you followed his command and the door on the other side gave way under your hand with a reluctant creak, hinges whining low and the moment the gap widened enough for your body to slip through, the air changed.

Another hallway narrower than the last. Two doors sat on either side, one to your right the other on the left, both shut tight, undead police officers lurked further down the corridor.

Three or maybe four of them. One brushed against the wall with a dull thud, leaving behind a smear that caught the weak light while another let out a wet groan that echoed enough to make the space feel smaller.

Your heart hammered so hard it felt like it might give you away on its own, each pulse loud in your ears, drowning out everything else for a second as your mind raced.

Fingers tightening around your handgun, familiar weight grounding you enough to push past the spike of panic clawing up your spine.

You lifted the weapon slowly, arms steady despite the tremor trying to creep in, lining up your shot on the nearest one.

One trigger and the muzzle flashed in a brief burst of red-orange light for a split second before the bullet hit clean, tearing through rotted flesh and bone.

Zombie’s head burst open as the body collapsed instantly, crumpling to the ground in a lifeless heap that twitched once before going still.

A high and piercing screech followed down the hallway, claws scraping fast on concrete until the Licker came into view above like some grotesque parody of a spider.

Its brain pulsed, fully exposed, shifting slightly with each tilt of its head to listen and figure out where the noise came from.

Engaging that thing with the amount of ammo you had left was suicide.

So you moved slowly with agonizing care, boots barely whispering against the floor as you edged along the hallway, gun still raised but your finger easing off the trigger.

A low, clicking sound left its throat, tongue twitching faintly between rows of jagged teeth, tasting the air and searching.

Almost there at the other side of the hallway, a sudden bang on the window shattered everything.

Your head snapped toward the source instinctively, eyes widening as you caught glass exploding inward as a zombie forced its way through, collapsing into the hallway in a mess of limbs and broken shards, a guttural groan tearing from its throat as it dragged itself forward.

Above you the Licker froze, its entire body snapped toward the noise with terrifying speed, attention locking instantly onto the new arrival and moved fast.

It dropped from the ceiling and landed directly onto the zombie with a crushing impact, claws sinking deep as it let out a shriek, claws ripping through decayed flesh.

It was right in front of you blocking your path completely.

Behind a groan came and you turned sharply just in time to see another zombie lunge forward, arms outstretched as, in turn, it grabbed the Licker’s attention.

This was it, your grip tightened on your gun, breath catching as you braced for impact.

Something moved fast from behind the zombie, soon followed by a wet, slicing noise from an hatchet that pierced the back of the zombie’s skull, bursting through bone and rotten flesh in a spray of viscous blood as the creature’s body jerked violently, head tilting upward in a final motion.

For a second all you saw was the hand wrapped tight around the metal handle, veins faintly visible beneath the skin, grip steady and controlled.

Then he stepped forward fully into view and twisted in a brutal 180-degree turn of the wrist along the blade that followed, head coming off clean and body dropping in a useless heap as the hatchet came free.

Behind you, the Licker snarled, dragging your attention back and instincts screaming as your gun came up again, finger tightening on the trigger but he moved first.

Stepping in front of you and for a moment all you could see was a broad and solid back that filled your vision, a tight black shirt clinging to him and stretched across wide shoulders.

They rolled slightly as he adjusted his stance, the motion slow and controlled that made the muscles beneath that shirt ripple.

The Licker’s tongue attacked fast as a whip but he reacted faster, hatchet intercepting the strike mid-air and not only pairing it, but fully slicing the tongue.

It hit the ground writhing, twitching violently like a snake and the creature let out a shriek of pure agony, stumbling back as both of its clawed hands came up toward its ruined mouth, movements almost human in their panic.

“Follow me.” His voice, just like the last figure you met, felt familiar in a way that hit somewhere deep in your chest, even if your mind couldn’t place it yet with how much rougher it was.

He moved forward, closing the distance in two quick strides before driving his boot up straight into the exposed brain.

The impact was brutal, forcing the creature on the ground for him to bury the hatchet deep, infected blood spilling out around it in heavy, dark rivulets before he ripped it free in one clean motion.

“Move.”

Up the stairs, your legs barely keeping pace with him as he led the way without hesitation like he knew every inch of this place.

The upper floor opened into another corridor, steam already hissing somewhere ahead, thick clouds spilling out and blocking the path entirely except, he didn’t stop, swinging the hatchet against metal that gave way under repeated strikes, damaged pipe bursting further as the pressure shifted, steam redirecting, clearing just enough space for him to push through.

You hesitated just for a second before a gurgle from a zombie cut through the air that gave reasons to your legs to move past the showers and around the corner just in time to see him drive a punch into a zombie’s spine, forcing it down before that hatchet came down again, ending it with the same efficiency.

He checked behind him again rapidly still not seeing your face with how dark the hallway was.

The door at the end opened into a small room with bright light and the statue of a gazelle right at the center.

His gaze lingered on it, something unreadable passing through his expression before he turned to the creaking of the door.

“You the only survivor in h—” The question came out low and rough before he stopped, pupils tightening before widening again.

“…No,” he exhales under his breath, barely audible. His grip tightens slightly around the hatchet.

The same reaction erupted on your face as well at seeing Leon again, though much older. His face carried lines that hadn’t been there before, jaw stronger and scruffy with the stubble that decorated it. Same hairstyle but slightly longer, falling just enough to frame eyes that were duller now.

And his body was bigger by the look of that dark shirt stretched across his chest, arms thicker, veins faintly visible beneath skin.

Aged like fine wine didn’t even begin to cover it.

“…Alright,” he breathed, more composed now, though the roughness hasn’t left his voice. “Either I finally lost it or something’s seriously wrong.”

His eyes flick briefly around the room before turning and walking outside straight into the library, waiting for this nightmare to end immediately.

What else could you do beside following him?

The vast space had shelves towering high the more you got closer to them, filled with books and an atmosphere that seemed almost normal despite the hell outside.

Of which you got immediately reminded of when something cold and rotten grabbed your leg.

A corpse on the floor jerked to life, fingers tightening that didn’t get far as Leon’s (?) foot came down hard, crushing the skull as his weight pressed into it fully, thick muscles of his thigh flexing with the motion, muscle tightening under the fabric as he applied more pressure, grinding the remains into the floor before pulling back, wiping his shoe clean in one smooth motion.

“You really haven’t changed,” he said, a hint of dry amusement threading through his voice now. “Still walking into trouble, sweetheart.”

Heat flared up your neck instantly.

“What do you—”

From behind him there was movement done stealthily so well you’ve only now registered it, knife already raised and angled for a clean slice across the throat.

The older Leon in front of you didn’t needed a warning, arm suddenly wrapping and tightening around your waist as that large bicep locked in and dragged you alongside him, body pulled flush against his side as he pivoted sharply out of the attack’s path.

The knife cut through empty air where his neck had been a fraction of a second earlier before charging again and his hatchet came up, both hands bracing it for control.

Metal met metal with a biting clang fore his leg snapped forward to send a brutal kick to the attacker’s chest, forceful enough to send the man flying back into a stack of old books that collapsed under him in a cascade of dust and paper, sound loud in the enclosed space followed by a grunt.

Your eyes snapped to the Leon who gave you his jacket as he recovered with frightening speed, already pushing himself up and reaching for his weapon, bicep viewable from the short sleeved compression shirt he had on bulging in the process.

“Back off,” he said, voice tight and restrained. “Leave him alone. Now.”

A protective tone that hit harder than the gun pointed forward.

Another sound of a safety disengaging followed and all three heads in the room turned towards it.

Your Leon, one you had walked into this nightmare with, with his Matilda raised in both hands, stance just a little too stiff and textbook compared to the others, but his aim didn’t waver as he pointed it at both of them.

“D-don’t move!” he ordered in a firm voice, blue eyes not scanning tactically but locked specifically on the hand at your waist, gaze lingering there a second too long, jaw tightening just slightly, fingers adjusting on the grip of his gun like he needed something to ground himself before his eyes flicked back up.

“Let him go,” he added, quieter but more pointed.

The arm around you tightened as he pulled you back against him by a fraction, spine brushing his solid chest.

“M’not keeping him hostage,” he said dryly, tone edged with something almost amused, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “‘Sides… M’not the one waving a gun around.”

Your Leon’s grip flexed as a flicker of hesitation crossed his eyes and you shouted his name the moment you saw the movement near him from the one now jacketless who closed the distance in a blur, his hand snapping up to knock the gun off its aim.

A shot rang out loud, slamming somewhere into the shelves above as the weapon was forced upward and, in the same motion, he disarmed him completely, twisting the gun free before shoving him hard to the ground.

“Shit—!” You broke free without thinking to rush forward and drop to your knees beside him.

“Leon are you okay?!” Up close he looked worse than when you left him, dirt smeared across his uniform, streaks of grime and something darker along his sleeves, hair slightly disheveled and breathing heavier.

“Are you okay?” he asked instead, voice tight with concern, scanning you quickly. “Did they—did they hurt you?”

“Why would I hurt my boyfriend?” A low, almost amused voice cut in, dry in disbelief while the figure extracted the magazine of the Matilda.

“What?” The man right next to you snapped, pushing himself up quickly, anger bleeding into his tone as he turned toward the speaker.

“What the hell are you talking about—” Arm moving before he seemed to think about it and wrapping around your waist to pull you back toward him, firm enough that you felt the way his bicep tightened against your side, holding you close.

The other Leon juggling a knife in hand tilted his head slightly, watching him with an expression that bordered on entertained while the hatchet-wielder leaned casually against a desk, dragging a sharpening stone along its edge in strokes that sent small sparks of orange flickering in the dim light.

“Relax,” he muttered, voice carrying that same rough, worn edge, though there was something almost nostalgic in it now. “You’ll get there.”

The younger one’s grip on you tightened slightly.

“Get where?” he shot back.

The man with the hatchet didn’t look up immediately, continuing the motion, metal against stone, the rhythm steady.

“Still before the train, huh,” the other Leon in a tight compression shirt and knife in hand said, almost to himself, though it was loud enough for all of you to hear. “Our first time together.”

Words loaded with meaning as he looked at you almost dreamily and it made heat spike through your chest.

The older one just huffed quietly, finally glancing up with something knowing in his expression.

“Yeah,” he added, almost fondly, as another spark jumped from the blade. “I remember that.”

Heat, heavy and dizzying, crawled under your skin under those six blue eyes, each a different shade but all carrying hunger locked onto you.

The much older one had pushed you on top of the first desk available with a quiet grunt, hatchet set aside without a second thought as his attention settled fully on you.

“Still got that same look… every time.” He murmured, voice a gruff baritone while his gaze dragged and took in every detail

Everything happened too fast.

The one near your age had his grip on your waist now, tightening like he was grounding himself before he let instinct take over. His fingers slid under the edge of that jacket still draped over your frame currently displayed on the desk for the three men around, brushing your now bare skin in a way that was almost shy and hesitant compared to the others.

A gloved hand caught your chin, tilting and forcing your gaze to meet his forward. His thumb dragged slowly across your bottom lip, pressing enough to part it as his eyes darkened with amused.

“Didn’t think you’d look this good in my jacket even now,” he murmured, voice dipping lower, teasing, that familiar edge of cocky charm sharpened into something far more dangerous.

The same culprit who took pleasure at slicing away the remaining of your clothes with his precise experience with that knife.

Your stomach flipped at the sensation of blunt and wide fingers pressing in with a knowing confidence that made your breath stutter, his chest brushing your back as he leaned in enough for his stubble to graze your neck.

“Easy,” he muttered against your skin, lips ghosting over the spot right below your ear before his teeth caught lightly in a teasing bite. “We’ve got time… gonna make sure you can take it.”

Slowly, one thick finger invaded your hole and the stretch came immediate, his other hand coming around your front to wrap around your now exposed cock at the same time.

Body jolting as his grip tightened, thumb brushing over the tip, spreading the first slick hint of precome just his finger curled inside you, realizing how he knew exactly where to press.

“Still this tight,” he hummed, voice coarse with approval, breath hot against your neck as his pace stayed slow but purposeful.

Your head fell forward as all your muscles relaxed to get through this and that was all the invitation the other two needed.

Knife-welding-Leon took the moment your mouth gasped in need of more oxygen and claimed it hard, lips crashing into yours with confidence that stole the remaining supplies of oxygen right out of your lungs, tongue pushing past instantly, claiming space and exploring deep with a low groan that vibrated straight inside your mouth.

Hand staying on your face and holding you in place as his tongue fought against yours, going deeper and more insistent to savor everything.

Behind that another thick intrusion came together the already existing one, thick fingers scissoring slowly, stretching you with patience and devoted work.

His thumb pressed harder against your cock now, stroking in a steady rhythm that matched the curl of his fingers inside.

Your body didn’t know where to focus as pleasure sparked everywhere, overlapped and built from each touch feeding into the next until it felt like your nerves were short-circuiting.

“Christ…” the Leon assaulting your mouth muttered against your mouth, pulling back just enough for his lips to drag down your jaw, teeth grazing your skin.

Your Leon was observing you like you were something fragile and fascinating all at once, hands moving slower than the others at first, careful and exploring on unknown territory unlike his other two counterparts.

They slid up your sides, fingertips brushing over your abdomen, lips following his hands, pressing hesitant kisses along your stomach, each one lingering just a second longer than the last.

Your hips twitched, body leaning into him without thinking and it that was all it took as a shift in his expression came in focus and determination.

“I’ve got you,” he whispered before his mouth moved lower, kissing down your abdomen when a hiss passed through clenched teeth the moment a third finger pushed in.

The sound got swallowed instantly as RE4 Leon pulled you back into another kiss, deeper and rougher, tongue shaking against yours as his hand slid down to your waist, gripping tighter.

Older Leon groaned low at the sound you made.

“Yeah… That’s what I wanted to hear.” He muttered, pace picking up just slightly, fingers driving deeper, curling harder and hitting your prostate again and again until your legs trembled from the assault on that bundle of nerves.

“Gonna take all of us like this?” he added, stubble scratching along your neck as he spoke, lips brushing over the marks already forming there. “Lookin’ this pretty…all worked up already…”

Their presence surrounding you completely, every direction you moved there was one of them as hard things brushed against you, insistingly reminding you constantly of what was coming next.

Leon forward you ground against your hip subtly, breath hitching into your mouth as he deepened the kiss again, tongue sliding slower now, thick tent in his pants stabbing you with more effects than a knife ever could.

Behind you, older Leon’s arousal pressed heavy against your lower back every time his fingers pushed deeper, control slipping enough to let you feel how much he wanted this.

And your Leon shifted closer, his bulge pressing against your side as his lips finally dipped lower, right below your navel.

Warmth spreads through you instantly.

“Tell me if it’s too much,” he murmured softly, even as his hands slid up to your chest, fingers brushing over your nipples experimentally before pressing, rolling them between his fingers.

You gasped again and he froze for just a second before his expression shifted into something quietly thrilled.

“Okay… you like that.” He whispered almost breathless before doing it again, more confidently this time.

“‘Course he does,” older Leon behind muttered, a smirk in his voice as his fingers pumped deeper, faster now, thumb still stroking your cock in sync. “Been paying attention, rookie?”

The loss of those fingers working you open made you whine.

“Yeah… you’re ready,” hatchet-wielding-Leon muttered, his hand coming down to pat your ass.

The loud sound of zippers followed and you shivered in anticipation, immense pressure from a clothed bulge pressing against your gaping hole.

“Don’t tense up,” he added, voice softer now—but no less intense. “Or I’ll have to take my time breakin’ you in myself.”

The one in front of you leaned in, hand sliding over your shoulder, squeezing once.

“Nah, he doesn’t want your old ass,” he murmured close to your lips, voice confident and teasing as his hand moved to your face again, softer now, thumb brushing your lip as he held your gaze.

“C’mon,” he whispered, voice taking a husky edge to it. “Tell ’em you want me first.”

Body moving with importance to the heart as you shifted and presented yourself fully to your Leon before drifting back to the surprise but aroused slightly older version.

A satisfied smile spread across his lips as his hand cradled your face and guided you down until your lips hovered just in front of that big bulge.

“Keep me busy while I wait my turn,” he added, voice low, amused, thumb pressing gently against your lip again. “Yeah?”

One moment you were trembling, stretched open and aching, every nerve lit up from the way older Leon had worked you apart, the next a different pressure followed.

He didn’t push in all at once, especially now, there was carefulness in him always present when it came to you. His hands found your hips first, fingers spreading wide, gripping just enough to steady you as he lined himself up behind.

“Tell me if it’s too much, okay?” He murmured, voice lower than you’d ever heard it, roughened by want but still threaded with that unmistakable sincerity.

He started to push in and God, the first inch alone stole the air from your lungs.

A gasp tore out of you, sharp and helpless, your body instinctively tightening around him as the blunt head of his cock pressed inside, stretching in a way that felt entirely different from the fingers that had prepared you.

He eased forward inch by inch, length sliding deeper into you with a steady, controlled pressure that made your entire body tremble around him as that solid weight filled and warned you up gradually.

“God…” he breathed, the word barely there, head dipping forward slightly, forehead almost brushing your shoulder as he focused on the feeling. “You feel really good..”

Another inch and your back arched as a broken sound left your throat.

It was overwhelming in the best possible way, body struggling to adjust as he sank deeper until he bottomed out.

A small pull back followed by a push forward again.

And that was worse, body reacting instantly, a sharp gasp tearing from your mouth as the movement dragged along every sensitive nerve inside.

The Leon in front of you was watching but waiting as well and, once you did remembered the other presence who you were now entirely sure was the same man currently balls deep inside, your trembling hands moved, reaching for the front of his jacket, then lower, finding the last barrier between you and what you’d been staring at this entire time.

“Go on,” he murmured, voice low and amused as his hand came up to cradle your cheek. “Been thinkin’ about it this whole time, haven’t you?”

Your fingers fumbled slightly with the fabric before finding purchase and pulled.

Fuck, he was hung.

Thick and heavy cock springing free, already flushed and leaking, head glistening under the light.

“Like what you see?” he asked, smirk tugging at his lips.

A question your mouth answered, leaning forward, closing the distance, lips parting as you took him in, tongue dragging along the underside as you guided him deeper, lips stretching around him until you sank down fully, nose brushing his skin as your throat adjusted around his length.

He sucked in a sharp breath.

“Fuck…” he groaned, his hand instantly coming to the back of your head. “There it is…”

You swallowed around him and that broke him in a way. “Yeah…yeah, just like that,” he muttered, voice rough and strained, his hips twitching forward instinctively before he caught himself. “You’re—shit—you’re still perfect at this.”

Behind your Leon groaned at the sight of your throat bulging around his older counterpart’s member, hands tightening on your hips again as his thrusts deepened.

Each push drove him fully into you, length dragging along your walls in a steady rhythm that made your body jolt forward and take more of the cock in your mouth without meaning to.

The connection clicked.

Every thrust from behind pushed you forward onto Leon, mouth forced to take him deeper, throat tightening reflexively around him as his grip in your hair tightened slightly in response.

“Fuck—” he groaned, watching you closely now, his breathing uneven. “Taking both of us like that… you trying to kill me?”

His hands slid up your body, one of them coming to your chest, fingers brushing over your skin in a soft, grounding motion as he watched you carefully.

“Is this okay?” The one behind you asked, voice strained but still so gentle, even now. “You’re— you’re not—”

You moaned around the cock in your mouth.

That was your answer.

“…okay,” he breathed, confidence shifting in his tone, maybe, or just the realization that you wanted this as much as he did.

His thrusts picked up, each one rolling his hips forward just right, dragging against your prostate repeatedly until your legs trembled harder, grip on the table tightening.

In front of you, Leon lost the last bit of restraint.

“Yeah… Take it just like that!” His hips started to move too, meeting your mouth halfway, cock sliding in and out between your lips in sync with the way you were being fucked from behind.

Your Leon leaned closer, chest pressing against your back as his hot breath came against your shoulder.

“You feel so good,” he whispered, almost like he couldn’t believe it, his voice breaking slightly as his pace faltered—then surged again. “I can’t—I can’t stop…”

In front—

“Don’t,” RE4 Leon shot back instantly, a breathless laugh mixing into his voice. “Trust me, he doesn’t want you to.”

Your body proved it as every thrust pulled another sound from you, cock twitching in overstimulation, but not forgotten as a hand wrapped around it suddenly.

“Don’t think I’m sittin’ this out,” he muttered against your ear, voice low and dangerous as his grip tightened just enough to make your hips jerk. “Go on… let go.”

Everything hit at once as a broken sound vibrated around the cock in your throat as you came hard, cock pulsing in his hand as release spilled over your stomach in hot bursts.

The sensation of your throat tightening pushing the one clogging your throat over the edge right after, grip tightening in your hair as he thrust deep one last time, spilling his load into your mouth with a low, strained sound.

Behind your Leon followed, a choked gasp leaving him as he buried himself fully inside you, hips pressing flush against yours as he came, warmth flooding deep inside.

Your body felt like it had been wrung out and put back together wrong, every nerve still buzzing, muscle weak, breath only just beginning to steady as the world slowly stopped spinning around you.

Yet, you were still painfully hard as a quiet, shaky breath left you, hand lifting to find its way to broad, familiar shoulders next to you, firm enough to communicate what your body couldn’t say out loud right away.

A low, knowing huff left him.

“Yeah… figured,” he muttered under his breath, voice rough but edged with that dry humor that never quite left him.

He shifted easily under your touch, turning and sitting back against the table in one smooth motion as you climbed into his lap, body sinking down onto his thick thighs, the heat of him immediately seeping into your skin.

Solid muscle beneath really told you how big he was, legs falling to either side of his hips and his huge tent nudged against your ass, heavy and insistent, blunt heat of it dragging slightly against your oversensitive skin.

A deep groan rumbled out of him instantly and you leaned closer once recovering, voice almost vulnerable.

“Did we… stay together for all those years?”

His grip on your hips loosened slightly, one hand lifting, fingers flexing like he was debating something before deciding and pulling his glove off, holding his hand up just enough for you to see a ring.

“…yeah,” he muttered, glancing at it briefly before his gaze flicked back up to you, a small, crooked smirk pulling at his lips. “Guess I was dumb enough to put up with you every day of my life.”

Sarcasm dry and familiar buy those duller blue eyes softened completely when he saw the happiness on your face that bloomed there before you could even try to hide it.

That was all you needed, leaning in to kiss him, stubble scratching against your jaw rough.

Then his hands tightened on your hips again and he moved you up enough to line himself.

“C’mon,” he muttered against your lips, breath warm, voice dipping lower. “You know the drill.”

He guided you down slowly, body tensing instinctively as the head of his cock pressed against your already slick and stretched opening.

The remnants of the others still coating you, making the slide smoother and easier.

Your mouth fell open as you sank down inch by inch, your hands tightening on his shoulders as your body adjusted again to his size.

“Fuck…” he grunted low, head dropping forward slightly, grip firm but controlled as he guided you.

He bottomed out and felt him pressed deep inside, so far in it almost felt like he was in your stomach, his heartbeat faint but real where your bodies connected.

Whimpering softly and he exhaled sharply at the sound.

“Always take me so good like you were made for it,” he muttered, voice roughening further, hands sliding slightly along your hips, thumbs pressing into your skin as you started to ride him.

Slow and weak at first, legs trembling as you lifted yourself just barely before dropping back down, motion dragging his cock along your walls.

But you didn’t have the strength.

“Easy,” he murmured, large biceps wrapping around your frame to pull you closer, chest pressed against his as he took over.

His thighs tensed beneath you, hands guiding your hips as he started moving you himself, lifting you up, then pulling you back down.

Each movement angled just right, hips tilting slightly to meet you every time, cock brushing against your prostate over and over until your head fell into the crook of his neck, your breath breaking into soft, helpless moans.

His pace didn’t falter, only getting stronger, breathing growing heavier against your skin as he kept you exactly where he wanted, pace picking up.

All until another presence came between your legs.

The other Leon older than you stepped in close, sliding between your spread thighs as you sat in his older counterpart’s lap, cock already hard again as it nudged against your entrance.

Older Leon stilled you instantly, holding you down firmly on his cock as his other hand came up to steady your hip.

“Hold on,” he muttered, glancing down briefly before looking back up at him.

“Relax,” the one about to join shot back. “I know what I’m doing.”

He pushed in, slow and careful, body of yours stretching again, a sharp gasp tearing from your throat as the second intrusion pressed inside alongside the first, walls straining and adjusting on both of them at once.

“Fuck—” you choked, your face pressing into older Leon’s jaw as your body trembled violently.

“Yeah… breathe,” older Leon murmured, his hand coming up to cradle the back of your head, holding you close. “You can take it.”

In front Leon groaned low.

“God, you’re tight,” he muttered, his hands gripping your hips as he slowly worked himself deeper, inch by inch until he was fully seated as well. “Missed this…”

Your body felt impossibly full and overstimulated, every nerve screaming as they both started to move.

Behind them, your Leon stood still, watching in absolute horny surprise.

Your head turned slightly, voice breathy and wrecked as you called out.

“…Leon…”

He blinked like he’d been pulled out of a trance.

“…yeah,” he answered quietly, almost dazed as the other Leon reached back, grabbing his shoulder and pulling him closer.

“Don’t just stand there,” he muttered, amusement laced through his tone. “Make him pleased.”

Just like that he was pulled in closer.

A hand of RE4 Leon’s gripped your ass, spreading you slightly as a thick drip of cum slid down.

Then your body git stretched again by a third presence pressing in.

You cried out, body shaking violently as all three of them filled every inch of you.

They moved together than, hips snapping forward, pulling back, thrusting again as your body was used between them, lifted, held, moved exactly how they wanted.

Kisses pressed against your mouth and neck… teeth grazed your skin along with hands everywhere.

Your mind went blank completely, moans breaking apart into nothing but sound, body giving in completely as they took over, driving you higher and higher again despite how sensitive you already were.

Your body tensed violently as you came again, cock spilling across older Leon’s abs, entire body shaking uncontrollably as the sensation ripped through.

They followed one by one, groans and grunts echoing along bodies tensing, followed by an uncontainable amount of heat filling you.

So much your body struggled to contain it as they emptied themselves inside you, movements slowing but not stopping until every last bit was spent.

Finally stillness.

Your body collapsed against them.

So, naturally, he cornered you.

It was after a mission, both of you in the locker room. You were busy pretending to sort through your gear, avoiding eye contact like it was life or death. Dick, still in half his suit, walked right up and planted himself in your space. “Did I do something?”

You swallowed, keeping your gaze firmly on the wall. “Nope.”

“That’s a lie,” he said, stepping closer. The scent of sweat and clean soap clung to him, his bare chest still glistening from exertion. “You’ve been dodging me for weeks.”

Your jaw flexed. “I’ve just been busy.”

“Bullshit.” He tilted his head, eyes sharp. “You’re avoiding me, and I want to know why. If I screwed up, tell me. Don’t just give me a cold shoulder and pretend I don't notice.”

You let out a humorless laugh. “It’s not that you screwed up, Grayson. It’s that my powers make it really hard to be around you without—” You cut yourself off, realizing you were about to confess that you’d seen everything.

Without missing a beat, he smirked. “Without what?”

Your pulse spiked. “Without getting distracted.”

Something flickered in his eyes. Surprise, then slow, predatory amusement. He stepped until his chest brushed yours, the heat of his body making your brain short-circuit. “Distracted by what exactly?”

You clenched your fists, eyes darting anywhere but him. “You know what.”

“Oh,” he said, grin widening. “I think I do.” His hand slid to your hip, pulling you closer. “You’ve got x-ray vision, right? So you’ve seen it.”

Your breath hitched. “Maybe.”

“Maybe?” His voice was a low purr now. “You’ve been giving me the cold shoulder because you can’t stop thinking about me naked?”

That was all it took to break weeks of pent up frustration. The moment your lips crashed against his, Dick’s breath hitched in surprise, then melted into a deep, hungry groan. You didn’t give him room to breathe, one hand tangled in the short dark hair at the back of his head, the other gripping his bare hip and yanking him closer until he was straddling your lap completely.

You could feel him through the thin material of his suit bottoms, hard and pressing insistently against you. Every flex of his thighs sent your self-control spiraling.

“Fuck—” he gasped between kisses, pulling back just enough to smirk. “So this is what you’ve been avoiding?”

You didn’t answer. You just hooked your fingers into the waistband of his suit and yanked it down, revealing exactly what you’d been torturing yourself over for weeks. He was thick, flushed, and already dripping.

Your smirk made him flush harder.

“Goddamn, Grayson,” you muttered, wrapping your hand around him and stroking slow just to watch him squirm. “You really have no idea what you’ve been doing to me.”

He bit his lip, hips bucking into your grip. “Then stop talking and—”

You shoved him back against the lockers mid-sentence, standing to tower over him. He didn’t even have time to protest before you were kissing him again, hard enough to make his head thunk against the metal. Your other hand slid down to cup the perfect curve of his ass—yes, the one you’d been obsessing over—and grabbed a fistful of it as if staking a claim.

Dick groaned, his hands flying up to your shoulders, nails dragging down your back. You manhandled him onto the bench, pushing him to sit while you knelt between his spread knees.

The first slow drag of your tongue from base to tip had him throwing his head back, a strangled noise ripping from his throat. You wrapped your lips around him and sucked deep, bobbing your head until you could feel him throbbing against your tongue.

“Shit—fuck—” His fingers threaded into your hair, pulling tight, but you grabbed his wrists and pinned them to his sides. You set the pace, taking him in until your nose brushed his skin, pulling back just to watch his face twist with desperation.

When you finally pulled off, he was flushed, panting, and staring at you like he wanted to devour you. “Get up.” you ordered, voice rough.

He obeyed instantly. You shoved him forward, bending him over the bench. His bare ass was right there in front of you, perfect and infuriatingly tempting. You palmed it roughly, kneading, spreading him open until he shivered.

“Always knew it was perfect.” you muttered, and then you were spitting into your hand, slicking yourself up before pressing the tip against him. He looked over his shoulder, eyes blown wide, mouth parted in a needy gasp.

“Do it.”

You pushed in slow, savoring the way his body stretched to take you, every inch sinking deeper until your hips were flush against him. He moaned, clutching the bench so hard his knuckles went white.

Once you were buried to the hilt, you didn’t hold back. Your hips snapped forward, hard and fast, each thrust making the bench creak under the force. Dick’s voice was a mess of gasps, moans, and broken curses, echoing off the tiled walls.

You leaned over him, one hand gripping his jaw and forcing his head back so you could kiss him while you fucked into him. “This what you wanted, Grayson? Weeks of teasing me for this?”

“Yes—fuck—harder.” he panted, pushing back against you.

You gave him exactly what he asked for, driving into him until your thighs burned. Every thrust hit deep, making him cry out. Your hand slid down to wrap around his cock, stroking in time with your hips until he was shaking under you.

“Gonna—fuck—I’m—”

“Do it.” you growled against his ear, pounding him through it. He came hard in your fist, spilling over your knuckles, body trembling. You didn’t stop, fucking him through his orgasm until you followed, spilling deep inside him with a groan.

You stayed there for a moment, both of you catching your breath, sweat-slick and shaking. Finally, you pulled out, watching your cum drip down his thighs before you smacked his ass, making him jolt.

“Next time,” you said, smirking as you grabbed his chin and kissed him again, “stop making me work so hard for it.”

You had never meant for it to get anywhere, to be something other than a way for you to earn some extra cash alongside your work. Student debt was killing you, but that was nothing new. It was killing all of the other nurses, as well. Still, it would have been nice to afford a proper meal at least once a day.

You mentioned it to a buddy of yours who off handedly suggested you start selling feet pictures. He was joking, of course. You hoped he was.

But it got you thinking of another friend who had gotten a sugar daddy and was now living life without any worries of her student loans. Gods, you would have lied if you said you hadn’t been jealous. So you reached out to her and she directed you to the site she had used, which was an immediate shock. Here, you could see multiple entries posted by sugar daddies and mommies alike, all of them in various ages and requirements for their sugar baby. You hesitantly filled out your own profile to be put on the site so others could see you.

Suddenly, it seemed too much. You didn’t want to compromise yourself or your body just for money. No offence to those who do, but a pit in your stomach told you that it wouldn’t be worth it.

Before you had a chance to close the site, you had gotten a message.

Your eyes flitted to the edge of the screen, a small pop-up message showing that a ‘Jack’ had written to you. Curious despite yourself, you clicked on his profile. There was no picture, weirdly enough. You couldn’t blame him, though, as you had also chosen to refrain from using a picture. You didn’t want any random people finding you or recognising you. Your name, you could handle people knowing, but your face was uniquely yours. You supposed this Jack felt the same way, or according to his message, he did.

JACK You also hesitant of these websites?

You paused, looking at his profile again. He had the ‘Sugar Daddy’ status, but nowhere did it say he was requiring anything sexual from you. It couldn’t hurt to reply, could it, right? Your fingers typed on your keyboard before you even had the chance to think about it.

YOU Yeah, is it that obvious?

He responded immediately, and it almost made you chuckle. This guy must really want to write with you.

JACK Takes one to know one, I suppose.

YOU What? Sceptical and cynical?

JACK You could say that.

YOU What are you doing here then?

JACK My therapist said I needed a hobby.

YOU Funny.

JACK I’ve heard I have a great sense of humour.

YOU You’re not at all what I was expecting from a man on this site.

JACK What were you expecting? A creepy guy only wanting to jack off to younger men?

YOU Kind of, how do I know you’re not one of those creepy guys?

JACK For one, I am not asking for anything like that. I respect whatever your wishes are.

YOU What are you asking for then?

JACK Company I guess.

YOU What, the people in your life aren’t company enough?”

JACK What is this, a job interview?

YOU Well, kind of. Since I am the one who will get paid in this.

JACK Touché. But then shouldn’t I be the one asking the questions huh?

YOU Guess you’re right, but it’s so much more fun if I am asking them.

JACK Fun for you maybe.

YOU Exactly.

JACK Okay. To be honest, I guess I’m a bit lonely. I don’t have a lot of time for people outside of my work and when I’m working all I’m thinking about is, well, work.

YOU So you are still working? What do you do?

JACK Of course, how old do you think I am?

YOU Do you honestly want me to answer that?

JACK Now that’s just rude. And I’m a doctor. Pays pretty well you know.

YOU That’s impressive. What position?

JACK Attending physician at the ER. Not a lot of people ask for what position you work as when you say you’re a doctor. You in the medical field yourself?

YOU Hmmm, I’m not sure I should tell anything personal about myself to a stranger.

JACK I told you, man.

YOU Well maybe you have less self preservation than I do. And here I thought with age comes wisdom.

JACK Good one. Maybe I want to get to know you.

YOU I hope you know that no matter wherever this goes, we will never actually meet.

JACK Wasn’t counting on it. Like you said, I’m only a stranger. And like I said, I respect your wishes, whatever they are.

YOU And you’re willing to pay me to just talk to you? Nothing else?

JACK Yeah, nothing else. I promise.

YOU It seems too good to be true. Why?

JACK Listen kid, I respect how careful you are. The truth is I don’t have anything good to else spend it on and I like taking care of people. Probably why I’m a doctor.

YOU Sounds about right. But why me specifically? Unless you have a group of younger guys you’re entertaining on the side?

JACK Oh god no. You’re the only one.

YOU I must be special, then.

JACK Kinda. I mean you are the only one I’ve properly written to on this website. You seem interesting.

YOU If you are trying to flatter me then you’ll have to come up with a better compliment than that.

JACK If I’m the one paying you shouldn’t you be the one complimenting me?

YOU Maybe when I find something worthy to compliment.

JACK You’re funny.

YOU I try. Listen, I hate to cut this short but I gotta go to work.

JACK Wait before you go. Give me your Venmo info.

YOU Why?

JACK How else do you expect me to send the money? Now come on.

YOU Well, thank you.

JACK It’s my pleasure, kid. Until next time.

You watched with awe as you get a notification from Venmo that five hundred dollars had been deposited into your account. This guy must really want this agreement with you to spend that much only on the first conversation. You weren’t one to complain, however, as you could finally treat yourself to a good meal. Thank fuck to whoever this Jack was, and thank fuck that your friend had set you up with the site.

Over the next few days, you got to know him better as you conversed. You had told him that you worked in paediatrics as a nurse, and you learnt that he worked nights, which left you little option when to message him, mostly before your shift, when his was ending, and after yours, when he had just woken up. He was easy to talk to and you enjoyed his sarcastic humour.

And he kept his promise, never pressuring you into doing anything more. However, you had noticed that Jack would occasionally address you with something that wasn’t strictly platonic but also not forthcoming enough to be discernible as flirting. But you would be lying if you said you weren’t flirting back.

It was simple and he was easy-going, and charming. Whatever ego Jack has, he wore it real well. He was cocky but not arrogant, and a little self-deprecating. And gods did he know how to bring a stupid smile to your face. Your conversation flowed easily enough that you didn’t even have to think about what to respond to him.

You still couldn’t help but wonder why he had chosen to talk to you, out of all the other applicants, who actually were willing to do more than platonic stuff.

You chose to ask him that a week later, one night after your shift, when you had arrived home and successfully crashed on your bed.

YOU I still can’t really get over why you chose to talk to me specifically. I mean, I’m sure there are lots of other guys vying for your attention?

His reply came only a few minutes later. He had told you that he worked nights, so you guessed he was writing to you in between patients.

JACK I wouldn’t be so sure about that. And none are anywhere near as interesting as you.

YOU Still, my point stands.

JACK Are we not done with the twenty questions yet? Thought I showed I was serious about this arrangement.

YOU OK, that’s fair. I’ll stop.

JACK You are terrible at letting up control. Let me take care of you.

YOU I just feel bad because I’m getting so much from this and all you’re getting is sucky conversation from me.

JACK You better step it up then, kid. I told you I’d be expecting compliments.

YOU Wow.

JACK I’m only pulling your leg. Don’t sell yourself so short. You’re really great. I enjoy talking to you.

YOU Thank you. I also enjoy talking to you.

JACK Look at that, I knew you could take a compliment. I’m proud.

You couldn’t help the small smile that spread across your lips. Damn Jack and his easy charm.

YOU Maybe because this one was actually good.

JACK There’s more where that’s coming from.

YOU Shut up.

JACK Unfortunately I don’t know how to.

YOU Damn, guess I’m stuck with you then.

JACK Guess you are.

YOU It’s not the worst thing in the world.

JACK High praise. You really know how to warm a guy’s heart.

YOU What can I say? I’m a charmer.

JACK Oh I bet you are.

He was just so effortless in the way he spoke and complimented you that hadn’t you previously agreed to keep this professional between you two, you would have seriously thought there were something between you. The thought didn’t exactly displease you. Of course, you had no way of knowing if he even wanted more. His profile was suspiciously empty of any sexual wishes for his sugar baby and he had said he wasn’t expecting anything of the sort. Maybe he was the one who didn’t want anything non-platonic and was just acting under the guise of respecting your wishes to stay professional. Maybe you were the one who was going too far, flirting and acting this casual with him, perhaps even making him uncomfortable.

Fuck, the thought filled you with dread. Not only because you’d grown to care about Jack over the past couple of weeks enough to worry about making him feel uncomfortable, but also because this was technically supposed to be a business agreement. He was your client and you were making money from this. The agreement had been clear and you couldn’t let Jack’s personality lead you astray from that.

He had wanted company and conversation. It wasn’t his fault that it happened to make something stir within you, just by him being himself. You cursed yourself for letting yourself get in the way of yourself. Jack’s a good guy, genuinely caring and thoughtful, and he wanted to take care of you, so you couldn’t let anything ruin that what you had.

He just made it so fucking hard when he was such a gentleman.

YOU Hey, is there any possibility I could get an advance on this week?

The notification of your Venmo came before the notification of Jack’s reply and you inwardly cringed of how readily he sent you the money, without a second thought even. You knew he made more money than he had use for and was more than happy to spend it on you, but his willingness to help you still made your heart skip a beat.

JACK Of course. What gives?

YOU Just got in a bit of a bind. Needed the money quickly.

JACK Anything more I can do to help?

YOU You don’t have to do that, you know.

JACK Do what?

YOU You know, care so much.

JACK How do you mean?

YOU This is a professional relationship and you’re technically my client, Jack. Please feel no obligation to do any more than you want to.

JACK Well then, I want to. Simple as that, kid.

You rubbed a hand over the bridge of your nose, sighing in frustration. How was it that Jack managed to solve your problems that easily at the same time as he caused new ones? Because how were you supposed to maintain a professional relationship with him when he went around saying shit like that? He both infuriated and made you joyous at the same time.

Any hope of avoiding any growing feelings would have meant to avoid talking to Jack altogether, but that was impossible since your agreement meant literal conversation, and because Jack was impossible not to talk to. You kept your back and forth, messages sent between shifts and breaks, whenever you had the time over the next month. When you needed him, he was always there.

YOU Hey do you have a minute? You don’t have to pay me for it.

JACK Of course, is everything okay?

YOU Yeah, I just needed a distraction.

JACK And you came to me? I’m flattered.

YOU Shut up.

JACK Wouldn’t dream of it. Are you sure you’re alright?

YOU No. I’m not. I lost a patient at work today. A kid. I guess it just hit me heavier than I thought.

JACK Hey that’s nothing to be ashamed of. We’ve all had those days where things feel a bit too tough to handle. You just gotta remember that none of this is your fault. You did the best you could but sometimes that isn’t enough.

YOU I know you’re right but it’s hard not to feel like this one is on me.

JACK I know you are terrible at letting up control but you gotta trust me on this. All you can do is focus on the medicine. The medicine is the only thing that saves the patient. And your sanity. You are excellent and there was nothing more you could do.

YOU Thank you, Jack. It means a lot coming from you.

JACK Anytime. Remember to breathe and try to take it easy. Even nurses deserve breaks you know.

YOU And god do we need it. I’ll try, but with the way people are getting hurt I can’t see me getting a break anytime soon.

JACK I hear you there. Hey I sent a little something as a pick-me-up. Enjoy it.

YOU I told you you didn’t have to do that.

JACK And I told you that I want to take care of you. Accept it and shut up.

YOU Sir, yes, sir.

It felt good to confide in someone like this. He could relate to the feelings and trauma that came with working at a hospital; that, sure, you saved and helped a lot of people, but you weren’t magicians. There were bound to be people you couldn’t save. Every hospital worker learnt not to take it personally, 

Like Jack, you worked a lot of long shifts after each other, rarely having a free day for yourself. It didn’t exactly allow you to socialise or make friends with a lot of people outside of your work. You supposed you and Jack had that in common.

 He, however, liked to keep much busier than you. Since he worked nights, you had figured he would sleep most of the day, but no, he was just as quick to respond to your messages during the day as he was in between your shifts. You started to suspect that he didn’t sleep much, since he had also mentioned he usually tries to keep tabs on the police scanner he owned in case of any emergency. You had asked if he had anything outside of saving lives to keep him busy and he had suspiciously avoided the question with a clever quip. So, you decided not to push it, allowing him to share however much he wanted to with you.

Eventually, you exchanged numbers with him, when you felt that you were more comfortable with him. Despite yourself, you had grown to trust this man, with his easy remarks and charm, disregarding all the safety measures surrounding strangers your mum had drilled into you since an early age. Jack wasn’t just a stranger anymore, but someone who you could confide in, trust with your doubts, and who could easily cheer you up with a simple message.

JACK Buy yourself something pretty alright?

You smiled when you saw the text, currently out shopping for things you needed. However, he changed that, and you decided to go get something you wanted. A nice top that fit your torso nicely. You took a quick picture in the dressing room, showing how the shirt wrapped around you, accentuating your muscles. Your face was still hidden, however, so you figured it would be safe to send to Jack.

YOU [ATTACHMENT: 1 Photo] This pretty enough?

JACK Very.

That caused a smile to spread across your lips. You weren’t sure if he intended for it to have the effect on you that it did. It felt like he was flirting, but it could also be part of his natural charm. You didn’t want to be the guy who misinterpreted every interaction and thought he was into you when he wasn’t so you didn’t dare say anything. But you couldn’t help but play along.

Especially when you started calling, two and a half months in, and you heard his voice for the first time.

“Hey.” He said it almost like a whisper and he sounded almost out of breath, as if he was nervous? That couldn’t possibly be the case, however. You were probably just imagining it.

“Hey, Jack.”

Fuck, his voice was amazing. It was all melodic and low, sounding as if it came from deep in his chest, a light rumble to it. You couldn’t help but imagine all the things that voice could tell you.

“Feels weird actually talking now that we’ve been writing for so long, huh?” he said, and you nodded subconsciously.

“Weird is one word for it,” you agreed with a light chuckle.

“Don’t tell me you’re regretting it now,” came his quick reply.

You scoffed. “No, fuck, that’s not what I meant.”

“What did you mean then?” he asked. Perhaps you were imagining it, but you thought you could hear a teasing tone to his voice, almost as if he knew exactly what you meant but wanted you to hear it for himself.

“You know, you’re just as annoying to talk to as you are in writing.” Despite your words, a small smile formed across your lips.

“So I’ve heard.”

“It’s a wonder I’m still talking to you,” you muttered.

“And every day I thank God for that.”

You tilted your head, frowning. He didn’t peg you for a religious man, but you never knew. “You’re religious, Jack?”

“Not one bit.”

“Hmm.”

“Have I told you you have a very pretty voice?” Jack asked, a sweet roll to his voice. It was the most beautiful thing you had heard and you were sure he was aware of it.

That made something in your stomach flip. Stop it, you were scolding yourself. Jack had been the one that told you that what the two of you had was strictly platonic and professional. He was respecting your wishes, and you had to respect his. Still, with the way he was speaking to you, it was difficult to keep your heart in check.

“You have not, no,” you breathed out, careful not to let your voice shake with nervousness.

“Okay.”

“Aren’t you going to?”

“Hmm, maybe.”

“God, you’re an ass,” you said, laughing lightly.

“I like to refer to it as my charm.” God, he sounded smug. Somehow that made him even more attractive.

“Hmm, don’t know if I would call it charming.” Yes, you would. But no way were you going to admit that to Jack.

“I would.”

“I know, Jack.”

You heard how he took a deep breath on the other side of the call, the silence being filled by his slow exhale, before he spoke. “You know, I do love hearing you say my name after all this time.”

You weren’t sure how to respond to that except for with a witty remark, “Sure you do,” effectively letting the matter drop.

———

Jack was a busy man.

Anyone who knew him knew that, and there weren’t a lot of people who did know him for that matter. You had been recently added to that list, with the amount of time he spent texting and calling you.

He liked to work as much as he could, usually sticking to the night shifts but occasionally taking on a double or jumping in during the day when he was needed. And even when he was free, he liked to stay at home listening to the police scanner he had or going with his buddy’s SWAT team as their field medic. He liked to do as much as he could. Robby had called it an addiction of his.

Jack knew he was right, and so was his therapist when he had told him that he needed to find something else outside of work and outside of SWAT. He also realised that he was lonely, because all the people he conversed with were tied to those two.

He knew he didn’t need a lot, but someone who he could bond with outside of it and perhaps care for. Ever since the death of his wife, he had missed having someone to take care of. He had a ton of disposable income that did nothing but collect interest in his bank account so he might as well spend that on someone, he thought. He knew that he’s not in the right place to meet someone the old fashioned way, and after seeing an advert for sugar babies, he went that route.

Jack felt hesitant to do that, though. It felt perverted to use his money to require sexual favours of a younger person, like he saw other sugar daddies and mommies do on the website he had found. Could he put in no requirements to his page? All he wanted was company and conversation to feel less lonely. That’s why he didn’t see a point in putting a photo up either. Since he didn’t want someone to talk to him merely because of his looks, but rather someone who could match him in conversation.

That’s when he found you, a younger man who seemed decent enough based on his profile, but it was hard to tell because like him, you had no profile picture. You had also specified that you would not engage in any sexual activities as your role of a sugar baby, so he thought he might as well shoot you a message. It couldn’t hurt, right?

From the very first message, Jack found himself interested in you. You matched him easily in his banter, had fun quips ready to respond to his, and he found that he had fun talking to you. Despite the unnatural arrangement of him paying you for conversation, it felt weirdly natural between the two of you.

As time went on, your messages developed from the regular get-to-know conversations to more banter and comments that bordered on flirty. Jack couldn’t ignore it, the pull he felt towards you, and he couldn’t help but indulge in it. It was just too easy to compliment you, or tease you, because your personality drew him in with something he hadn’t felt in a really long time.

He found himself telling you things he didn’t tell a lot of other people, some things even Robby didn’t know about. Jack told you about his past; his time as a war physician, his leg that had gotten amputated, his late wife. You took it all in stride and somehow it didn’t feel awkward after he’d told you, like it did with most people, but he rather felt much lighter in the chest. However, he did not tell you about his problems sleeping, at keeping the trauma at bay, because he didn’t want to worry you. In truth, he didn’t want to be a bother.

It was ironic that he wanted you to be able to rely on him, so he could take care of you, but he was afraid of being a burden to you. So, instead, he usually sent you small comments each day, updates about his shifts or his coworkers, or just little observations about you. He could talk to you for hours if you’d let him.

You had told him about starting a new job soon. You’d still be a paediatric nurse, but it was in a new hospital because your last one hadn’t treated you so well, is what you had said. You hadn’t shared which hospital it was, and Jack hadn’t pried. It wasn’t like he wasn’t curious, because he was—when it came to you, he wanted to know practically everything he could—but he didn’t want to force any information you weren’t willing to give up. And you had made it clear that you weren’t ever going to meet, so what was the point? He couldn’t pretend that he wasn’t the slightest bit of disappointed by that fact, but he refused to let it cloud his relationship with you.

It got you talking about your jobs one afternoon, almost three months in.

JACK I don’t think I could ever do pedes. I tried it during my MS days, but it’s way too boring for me.

YOU Hey, watch your words, old man.

JACK Oh I know you’re not calling me old man, kid.

YOU Keep running your mouth and I will keep calling you that.

JACK Okay, sorry. It’s way too… Advanced for me.

YOU OK, now you’re just being patronising.

JACK Alright, let’s just say it’s not for me. Don’t get me wrong, I do like kids. But there’s something about how busy the ER gets that keeps me coming back.

YOU And that’s fine. I love pedes because it’s so much calmer. The ER stresses me out. And well, kids can be really sweet. It’s just like night shifts are not for me. They sound brutal, I don’t know how you do them.

JACK My therapist thinks I find comfort in the darkness. I like nights. Don’t you?

YOU OK Batman. I like sleeping through them.

JACK I can’t argue with that.

YOU Damn right you can’t. I’m sorry, Jack, no matter how much I like you my bed will always be my #1.

His heart skipped a beat at that. You liked him, you had said. Then he shook his head, mentally berating himself. No, you had merely meant platonically that you liked him—nothing more than that. You had made it painfully clear that you wanted this relationship to stay professional, despite his unconscious attempts at flirting. He couldn’t help it! You were just too easy to compliment.

JACK That’s hurtful, you know?

YOU You can handle it.

JACK I’m not so sure, I might need some reassurance now.

YOU I think you’re being a baby. But, sure. [ATTACHMENT: 1 Photo]

What you had sent had Jack choking on a breath, his eyes flitting over the phone screen in rapid movements. He could feel the beating of his heart as he took in the view before him. What you had sent him was a picture of your chest, your skin revealed by the top buttons of your shirt being unbuttoned, and your throat adorned by a silver chain. It wasn’t even that revealing—Jack saw plenty of undressed guys at work every night—but something about the thought of you posing for him to see this made his stomach tighten.

JACK You must be an amazing nurse because I’m suddenly all better.

Maybe he had read you wrong—or, well, right. Maybe you did want something more with him, despite what you had said. Or, were you only sending that because you felt pressured by him? Oh god.

He rubbed a hand over his neck, closing his eyes. Had he been too forward, too much? Had he made you  feel so uncomfortable you felt you had to play along with him in order to still receive the money? The knot in his stomach wasn’t from happiness anymore, but now from worry. He silently cursed himself. You had made it so clear to him and still he kept walking that line between flirtatious and platonic because he couldn’t keep his damn feelings in check. Sure, he was a flirt by nature, but you managed to draw it out of him so easily, and he wanted to with you.

Jack decided to try to keep himself in check from now on, despite how difficult it would be.

———

Today was the day: the day you started at your new job.

You were slightly nervous, seeing as this hospital seemed much better than your last and you really wanted to keep this job, so you couldn’t fuck up. Despite their ER being nicknamed ‘The Pitt’, you were impressed by their stats and by the few members of staff you had met at your interview. And besides, you weren’t going to be working in the ER, but in the paediatrics department.

A message from Jack and you smiling at your phone. Somehow, he knew you would be nervous for this without even having to tell him anything. That’s how well he knew you.

JACK Hey kid, good luck today. I know you’ll knock it out of the park.

YOU Thank you, Jack.

The message ended up not being needed, since your first day went swimmingly. You decided against telling Jack that, though, because any praise or encouragement was more than welcome from him.

To be honest, anything he sent was more than welcome. Usually it was banter, a flirty comment here and there that never failed to put a smile to your face and made you question the nature of your relationship, or some updates from his work and the occasional gossip about his colleagues. Sometimes it were heavier things, like things from his past that made you frown with sympathy for him, because no one deserved to have gone through all that. But it never got heavier than that.

That’s why it came as such a surprise when he called you in the middle of the day when you were at work, his breathing uneven and words clipped with a cadence that you didn’t usually hear from him.

“Hey, I— I’m sorry, it’s… fuck!” he started, then coughed. “I’m bothering you—”

You immediately put down what you were doing, rushing to go into an empty room. “You’re not bothering me, what’s up?”

“I—I just, fuck. I can’t—” He was breathing heavier now, sounding as if he was gasping for air but unable to take any in.

“Oh shit, Jack. Jack, listen to me. Just breathe. Hey, focus on me,” you tried, calming your voice to the one you usually used for patients in distress. Jack needed you, and that was all you needed to know for you to enter a deep state of focus.

“I can’t breathe, I can’t—”

“Yes, you can,” you interrupted him. “Listen to me, I know you can do this. Just focus on my voice. Breathe in…and breathe out. Slowly. And again. In… and out…”

There were several minutes of silence, the only sounds being Jack’s breathing on the other side of the line. They were ragged, heavy and deep, with quiet sobs accompanying them every once in a while. You waited patiently, a steady presence for him to lean on. You only wished you could do more for him.

When the breathing had gotten quieter on his end you dared speak again. “Jack, how’re you doing?

“Uh, better. Not great.” His voice sounded like full of gravel, thick with unshed tears and sobs that he seemed to be choking down.

“Okay, that’s something,” you said. You took a breath before asking, “Why don’t you tell me what’s going on?”

Jack sniffled. “I, uh, had a pretty bad dream. From the war.”

Ah.

“I was back there, and, um, I was getting shot at and, uh, shit, and—” His voice was getting unstable again, his words quivering as he got worked up again. You interrupted him before he had the chance to.

“Hey, it’s okay, you don’t have to explain more,” you said.

You heard a small laugh come out of him. “I just, fuck, all I could think about when I woke up was you.”

His voice sounded pained and heavy with memories of his time as a soldier and you could only imagine the trauma he carried with him from it. A stab of pain shot within you in empathy for him. A sudden urge to be there, physically, with him to be able to hug and hold him better.

“Listen, Jack, it’s OK,” you said, trying to stop any oncoming protests from him.

It didn’t work. “I’m sorry,” he breathed. “I know this is far beyond what our agreement was—”

“I don’t mind, seriously. I like being here for you.” You said the last part especially slow so that he could really understand how much you meant those words. You don’t even think you had known how much you meant them before that moment, but now you did.

“Oh, thank God.” He let out a relieved laugh, before sucking in a breath. “Don’t know what I would’ve done if you turned me down.”

A smile spread across your lips. “I would never do that.”

He cleared his throat and let out a small laugh. “I think I’m good to go now. I need to try to get some more sleep, and you should… go back to work?” His words were clipped and dismissive, as if he wasn’t telling the entire truth.

You frowned, but nodded. “Are you sure? Please, I don’t want you saying that just to not worry me.”

“I— thank you. But I am seriously alright,” Jack said, and you chose to believe him. “I’ll send the money later. Thank you.”

That made you pause. “Don’t you dare,” you said quickly.

“What?” came his shocked reply.

“Jack, you know I care about you,” you said, your shoulders relaxing. Did you really need to spell it out for him? “Let me be here for you, without the money.”

There was a small moment of quiet where you feared he wouldn’t respond. When he did, his voice was smaller, somehow. “Okay—I will talk to you later?”

“I can’t wait,” you chirped, smiling.

———

Jack was confused.

The way you had spoken to him and cared for him, without the expectation of money, made him feel all warm inside and as if your relationship had grown outside of your agreement. Maybe it wasn’t such a crazy thought to have. Jack found himself smiling more since he had begun talking to you and even imagining meeting you in real life, despite that you had said that would never happen on the very first day. He had to respect your wishes, because he was nothing if not a gentleman.

No longer was he only losing sleep because of the nightmares from the war, but he also found himself thinking about you. When he closed his eyes, all he could think about was how you would look and all he could hear was your voice, talking to him in that sweet way of yours. It kept him up, thinking about you, but he found that he didn’t mind one bit. Especially as it seemed that you were just as eager to talk to him as he was to talk to you.

YOU I’ve been thinking.

JACK Should I be worried?

YOU Thinking about you.

JACK Okay now that sounds more promising. Can’t say I don’t think about you either.

YOU I’m relieved to hear that. Well, I’ve been wondering what you look like.

JACK Wow is my sparkling personality not enough? You need to see my handsome face as well to satisfy your needs?

YOU I don’t know if I would describe your personality as sparkling.

JACK You didn’t deny about the handsome face part.

YOU I haven’t seen it yet so I can’t really judge, can I? That was sorta the point.

JACK No you don’t want to see this old face. Surely it’s got nothing on yours.

YOU I wouldn’t be so sure. What Jack, are you shy?

JACK I don’t get shy.

YOU Time to put your money where your mouth is, then. I’ve heard your voice and if you look anything like how you sound I’m sure I won’t be disappointed.

A warmth that had nothing with the actual temperature in his apartment spread across his body, feeling it colour his cheeks. How could you say those sort of things and not expect them to affect him? There was no way you weren’t aware at this point, but the thought that you were aware and still did it made his cheek grow even warmer. Fuck, what were you doing to him? And he hadn’t even seen you or met you! Not that he would ever do the latter thing, anyway.

JACK Jeez I knew you were a charmer but not like this.

YOU That isn’t a no.

JACK Fine. But only if you also send a photo of yourself. This is an equal partnership you know.

YOU That sounds fair, but you first since I asked first.

JACK If you insist. [ATTACHMENT: 1 Photo]

It felt as if the beating of his heart thundered in his throat as he stared at the three dots on his screen. Despite his usual confidence, Jack was scared. He knew that he was good looking, if all the comments he had received over the years was anything to go by. But he felt an unusual sense of nervousness at the thought that you would finally see what he looked like and reject him—which was ridiculous, but still he couldn’t help it. He wanted so badly for you to think he looked good, because the alternative was too scary.

YOU You have freckles.

JACK How did you know that’s exactly what I wanted to hear?

YOU Sorry, I just wasn’t expecting it. It suits you.

JACK Thanks? I hope.

YOU Yes, it’s a compliment. Thought you wanted more of them. Now take it.

JACK Wow bossy. I kind of like it.

YOU What can I say? I have many sides.

JACK I can’t wait to see them all. Now you go.

YOU Since you asked so nicely. [ATTACHMENT: 1 Photo] Can’t wait to hear all your compliments now.

Fuck, Jack thought as he stared at the photo you had sent. He felt the threads that kept him together so carefully start to unravel, because it couldn’t be, could it? But he knew he was lying to himself, trying to convince himself that what he was seeing wasn’t true. There was no doubt about it, it was you. The same nurse he had caught a glimpse of in the hallways a few days ago at the Pitt. He had thought you were handsome, his eyes following your movements, and of course Robby had teased him about it.

But now that it meant that the guy he had been talking to and grown closer with over the better part of three months, who he was effectively dreaming and thinking about every free moment he had, who could put a smile to his face much easier than anybody else he knew, and who he had made peace with never meeting, was the same guy he was looking forward to seeing on the rare chance he’d come to the ER. Which meant that you could be meeting, which he was sure you did not want. Sure, you could have been flirting with him this entire time, but you had made it painfully clear that you did not want to meet up.

YOU Jack? Hello? OK, I was only joking, you know?

Fuck, what was he supposed to do with this now? He couldn’t ignore you and he couldn’t lie about the fact that he knew you worked at the same hospital as him.

A reminder popped up on his phone that his SWAT shift was starting soon and he cursed. He didn’t have time to think through what to say to you, but figured he would respond later when he was free. Jack thought that he could use the time on his shift to figure out what to respond with.

———

Fuck.

That was the first thought that flew through your mind. 

First it had been because of finally seeing Jack’s face because, unfortunately, he was unfairly attractive despite his older age. Second, it had been because he wasn’t responding to any of your messages.

What the fuck was Jack thinking, leaving you on seen like that? You had sent your picture, just like he had, and then he didn’t respond? Did he not know the effect he had on you? This was something that could easily send you spiralling, and it would have, had you not been called in for work.

It was looking to be a busy 4th of July, but without any other plans you might as well work and earn some extra pay. If nothing else, it would also keep your mind off of Jack and his lack of reply.

You had finally seen the looks of him and he was the very picture of handsome silver fox, someone you would dream about had you met them for real. The fact that the sarcastic and funny guy you had gotten to know the last three months was someone this good looking sent your mind spiralling somewhere too far for you to reach right now.

So, you did the only thing you could: put on some gloves and got to work.

You had been right, it was a busy day. Other than the normal chaos of a holiday, it was unusually hot today and Westbridge hospital had been closed down as well, so the PTMC was taking the brunt of it. It was difficult to keep track of everything amidst the chaos. A the beginning of your shift, you had gotten a call from the ER that they had a baby Jane Doe who needed tending, and despite your dislike for the ER you had gone down to check on her every once in a while throughout the day.

However, as you went down slightly after 12 PM, you were met with a sight you had not expected. You had just checked on the baby when you went to the reception to talk to Princess. Despite not working in the ER, it was difficult not to become friends with the other nurses here, as they were more than chatty and sometimes friendly..

A team in army uniforms, ‘POLICE’ written over their chests, rushed inside from the ambulance bay with a gurney carrying another one of them between them all. A figure you recognised as Dr. Robby moved to them immediately, looking to the man who was holding the ventilator balloon to the patient.

You followed his gaze and swore your heart stopped.

He was rattling off the words, looking increasingly stressed. “Intubated neck wound, sats not great. We were diverted here.” Then he turned to the reception, and you hoped against everything that he wouldn’t notice you. Luckily, he seemed to only briefly glance up and shout, “Is there a trauma room open?”

Princess pointed to a room to the right. “Trauma 1,” she replied.

As they all went into the trauma room, you felt your breath return to somewhat normal, the initial shock settling for something else. You had to be seeing things, right? It couldn’t be him.

But however much you tried to convince yourself, you knew you were wrong. Despite only having seen one picture of him, you knew you would recognise that man anywhere. It was the same salt and pepper curls, the same faint constellation of freckles smattered over his face, and that same voice. The voice you had so often heard on your calls with him and more often than not in your dreams about him, as well. And the fact that he was dressed in a SWAT uniform. It all checked out. There was no doubt on the matter. It was Jack.

You still had to make sure, however, so you turned to Princess and cocked your head to trauma room 1. “Who the fuck is that?” you asked.

She tilted her head to the side. “Who?”

“The guy in the military uniform.”

Her answer confirmed both your worst fears and your greatest hopes. “Oh, that’s Dr. Jack Abbot. He’s the attending on the night shift.” She glanced at your face, smirking smugly. “Smoke show, right?”

“Right. OK. Fucking great.” You nodded, absentmindedly, before turning to go back upstairs.

Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck.

You swore inwardly with every step that you took up the stairs. What were the chances, out of all the hospitals in America, or even in Pittsburgh, that Jack had to work at the very same as you? Technically, he had been working here longer than you, but that fact didn’t matter. All that mattered was that the man you had tried but effectively failed to get out of your head, was some kind of boss to you. Not directly, of course, since you answered to the paediatric department. But every once in a while, against your will, you would be called down to the ER when they were short-staffed, and that would put you under Jack.

You dragged a hand across your face, groaning. You couldn’t believe your luck, that the man you were practically dreaming about and definitely flirting with was your once-removed boss. Would you need to get HR involved? No, nothing had happened. Yet, a small part of your brain supplied helpfully. But you and Jack had agreed to never meet, so what you would do with this information now was as of yet unclear to you.

That was also when you remembered the fact that Jack had avoided answering to the photo you had sent him. You had never thought of yourself of ugly or anything of the sort, but maybe you just weren’t his type? Maybe that was the reason he hadn’t replied. The thought of then having to see him in person, knowing of all the times you had flirted with him and must have embarrassed yourself, mortified you beyond anything else. You weren’t sure if you could live with knowing the answer.

But not knowing was so much worse, you realised, and against your better judgment you stormed back down to the ER in search of him. You grabbed hold of the first nurse you saw, which happened to be Jesse.

“Hey, is Dr Abbot here?” you asked, trying to sound more cool than you felt.

He blinked at you before nodding. “I think I saw him go into Central 7.”

“Great, thanks,” you threw over your shoulder as you rushed in the direction.

Without allowing yourself a moment to hesitate, you threw open the door and pushed away the curtains. There, shirtless and tall, stood Jack Abbot in all of his glory. He had his back turned to you, showing off the broad muscles that rippled under his skin as he moved, as well as the constellations of freckles that extended across his shoulders and down his arms. God, he was in good shape, was the first thought that popped into your traitorous mind. The second being that there was a wound on his left shoulder, but that fact catalogued itself somewhere in the back of your brain in favour of the view of a shirtless Jack in front of you.

“Jack?” you said, before your brain had time to catch up with the fact that you were currently seeing him shirtless, of all things. “Oh, shit—” Here’s to first meetings, you supposed.

He turned around with a frown before his brows lifted in shock. “Yeah? Oh.”

You bit your lip, crossing your arms over your chest. Jack looked just as good from the front as he did from the back. You had to physically shake your head to rid your thoughts, focusing instead on meeting his eyes. God, he had a steady gaze, you realised. It was difficult not to feel put on the spot underneath it.

“Maybe I should be calling you Dr. Abbot, instead?” you asked, although rather unkindly.

Jack only nodded dumbly, his mouth still hanging open slightly.

You grimaced. “You know, for a man who can never seem to shut up you’re being unusually quiet.”

“Uhuh, well,” he croaked, his voice unusually unstable. Then he let a small smile lift the corner of his mouth. “I am just a bit caught off guard. What are you doing here?”

“I work here. Well, in pedes upstairs.” You gestured upwards, scoffing as if it was obvious.

“Right,” he replied, those beautiful hazel eyes narrowing at you. “What are you doing down here? Thought you said the ER stresses you out.”

“It does,” you said, frowning slightly. You were surprised he remembered that detail you had mentioned in passing. “You remember that?”

“Yeah, of course.” Something about those simple words twisted something in your stomach. The casualness that he said it with, as if it had been obvious that he would remember the small things you told him.

You cleared your throat, coming out of your thoughts to answer his earlier question. “Got an abandoned baby that I was called down to check on. The better question is what you’re doing here? As far as I’m aware, it’s not night.”

“Good solve, Sherlock.”

Even in person, Jack was quick to answer with a witty remark. Gods dammed his wit and his sarcasm and his humour. He was just as attractive in person as he was over the phone, if not more, and his intense stare made you want to avert your eyes. Was it always this intense, or did it just feel extra so under the circumstances?

“This is less than ideal,” he finally said after clearing his throat.

“Yeah,” you breathed out. You took in his shirtless torso, quickly looking away so that he wouldn’t notice your staring. “Do you want me to come back? Give you a moment?”

“No,” Jack replied with a small smile. He was sitting down now and putting forward medical supplies and bandages. “It’s okay.”

To avoid whatever that meant, you focused on the task his hands were doing, which also meant you had to keep your thoughts in check, because damn, even his hands were attractive. You cleared your throat. “What happened to you?

“Oh. Bullet grazed my vest,” he said simply, his eyes on his hands, as casual as if you had asked him about the weather.

“You got shot?”

“Shot at,” he corrected, eyes flitting up to yours. “It’s no big deal. I can take care of it myself.”

As Jack said that, you saw him reach a cotton swab with a lotion over his shoulder, struggling to get the angle right. After a few minutes of craning his neck, you sighed and stepped forward, relaxing from your tense posture.

“Let me help you,” you said, beginning to put on a pair of gloves.

His head turned in your direction as he grimaced, his hand gesturing as if to wave you away. “No, don’t worry about me, I’m fine.”

An eyebrow raised in his direction. “Now who’s the one being too stubborn to accept help. I’m a nurse, let me do my job.” You stepped around him, holding out your hand for him to give you the swab.

“A nurse in paediatrics,” Jack pointed out, but relented with a small sigh. The brief brush of your gloved fingers meeting his ungloved one caused shivers to travel up your arms, almost as if you had been shocked by electricity.

You scoffed. “That doesn’t matter. A wound is a wound.”

You began cleaning his wound, carefully inspecting him for any sign of discomfort. Instead, you only found how much more handsome he looked up close. You could see the small wrinkles on his forehead, the way his eyes stayed dutifully ahead of him, and his posture was as straight as a soldier’s. Not the only thing that remained from his war days, you thought as you sneaked a glance at his right leg. But it didn’t make him look old, no. He looked like a weathered man, with tons of stories held inside that pretty head of his.

Your thoughts went back to the conversation at hand, sighing as you swapped the cotton swab for another. “Y’know, I never pegged you for one to look down on other areas of medicine,” you mentioned.

“Sorry, I don’t,” he said, shrugging a bit as if bashful. “I’m just still surprised that I’m actually seeing you right now. That we’re finally meeting.”

You tilted your head. “You don’t sound so surprised.”

It took a second for him to answer, and it was with a grimace you could only half see has he turned his head away from you. “Well, I knew you worked here.”

You paused in your movements. What? “And you didn’t say anything? How long have you known?”

“Only found out when you sent your picture,” he admitted, craning his neck to meet your eye. “I recognised you.”

“What?”

“It’s hard to forget a face like yours.” Jack’s smirk was infectious and you had to fight your own from forming as he then shook his head. “Sorry, that was inappropriate.”

“No, um,” you cleared your throat, “what do you mean by that?”

Jack shrugged sheepishly. “Just that I noticed you, even before knowing that you are, well, you.”

“Oh,” was your only reply, continuing to clean his wound. “Well, I hope that’s a good thing.”

“Very.”

You could almost hear the smirk in his voice, that tone that you had gotten painfully familiar with over the past couple of months. And God was it a blessing to be able to see it now in person, finally witnessing how it made his eyes scrunch up in delight, wrinkles forming around them, and it made him look exactly as self assured as you had pictured during your long talks.

You ignored it in favour of putting down the cotton swab and beginning to dress his wound, clearing your throat at the same time.

“So, care to tell me the story behind this?” you asked, just to get away from his burning gaze.

Jack looked down into his lap, his smirk dropping. “Geniuses thought today was the day to rob a goods warehouse. Didn’t think about how long it would take to load the appliances. They panicked. All hell broke loose.”

You narrowed your eyes at him, applying the wound dressing. “Why do you do this?”

“My therapist said I needed a hobby,” he said as he shrugged.

You scoffed. “Thought that was the reason you reached out to me, remember?”

“I can have two hobbies.”

Your hands smoothed out the dressing before you removed the gloves and stepped around Jack, shaking your head. “Not if one is putting you under active fire.”

“Careful, it almost sounds like you care.”

When you looked at him you saw a tiny smirk playing on the edge of his lips. You averted your eyes from them, raising an eyebrow and humming a reply. As you turned around to walk away, Jack’s hand shot out to grab your wrist.

“Listen,” he started, letting go of your hand. You already missed the warmth from his skin. “I wanted to say sorry.”

“For what?” Your voice was carefully devoid of any emotion that he had managed to stir up in you.

“For not answering, earlier.”

You merely hummed as a reply.

His eyes looked up to you, now shadowed by a hint of guilt and sadness, not unlike the eyes of a puppy. It made something twist inside you, a twinge of guilt suddenly shooting inside you from the knowledge that you were the cause of it. “It wasn’t cool of me, I didn’t mean to worry you.”

“You didn’t worry me,” you said, way too quickly.

He ignored your words, still keeping that damned eye contact. “I should have just responded right away, but I wasn’t sure what to say. Or do. You said you didn’t want to meet, so…” He chuckled, sounding a bit unsure of his own words.

You tilted your head to the side, crossing your arms over your chest. “So, what, you figured you would keep it secret that we worked in the same hospital? Just so we’d never meet.”

“I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable,” Jack explained, a pleading tone now sneaking into his voice.

You sighed, rubbing a hand over your face. “Jack, I’ve told you. You could never make me uncomfortable.”

Something in his eyes lit into a spark. “Really?”

“Please,” you chuckled, glancing to the side with a hint of a smile. “The fact that you were ever worried… is kind of attractive.”

The words were out of your mouth before you could stop them. You closed your eyes in frustration and berated yourself. It was one thing to flirt over text, because that gave you plausible deniability. But admitting he was attractive after he had effectively ignored you for the better part of the day after had had finally seen your face, was something else. If he really wasn’t interested and you hadn’t chased him away yet, you would surely have done it now.

However, when you looked back to Jack, meeting his gaze, all you could see was the mirth in his eyes.

“You think so?” he asked, and that smug smirk was back on his face.

Your eyes narrowed at him, taking in the way he was leaning slightly forward and looking up into your eyes, all open and honest. There was something in the way he was looking at you that made your stomach twist, but not in a bad way, as if he knew something you didn’t. You didn’t know what, but it felt like the air had suddenly gotten heavier in the room, your shoulders tensing and lips pressing together.

That smug smile on his face made you roll your eyes. “Fuck off, you know you’re good-looking.”

Jack’s head tilted to the side, but his eyes never left yours. “Hmm, is that so? And do you find me that? Good looking?”

He was enjoying this more than he should. “Perhaps,” you said and shrugged, despite yourself. “Although I must say your picture does not quite make you justice.”

“Now, that’s a compliment.” His smile had widened, reaching his eyes as well and the sight was almost too much for you.

“I do know how to give compliments, y’know,” you said with a scoff.

“Would love to hear more of them,” Jack replied with small nod.

You gave him a meaningful glare. “Don’t know if your ego could take it.”

At that, his smile widened into a grin. “I can take more than you think.”

Your narrowed eyes met his smug ones and you had to fight the urge not to smile. He really had a reply to everything, this man. Then your eyes flitted down to his body, noticing the army pants he still wore, remembering how good he had looked in his SWAT uniform earlier.

“In that case,” you started, “you fill out that uniform quite well.”

“You should see me as a flight attendant,” Jack said. He didn’t miss a beat, his eyes still trained on you, eyes flitting all over your face.

“Mmm, bet.” When you noticed he wasn’t saying anything else, but merely staring at your face, you spoke again.“Jack.”

He nodded. “Mhm.”

“You’re staring.”

“I’m just looking,” he said, but he was definitely staring.

You lifted an eyebrow at him, taking in the way he was staring at you. More than once, you had noticed how his eyes flitted down to your lips and that made your stomach fill with warmth. “No, you’re looking at me as if…”

“As if what?” he asked, head tilted but that smile on his face that told you he knew exactly what you meant.

“No, forget it,” you countered, ever so stubborn.

Jack stood up, now looking at you from your eye-level. “Tell me.”

You tried to discern whatever he was trying to say behind those eyes, but all you could see was a hint of teasing and hopefulness in them, as if wanted you to say exactly what you were thinking. Could he really want the same thing as you, even after all this time?

You furrowed your brows but finally said what was on your mind. “As if you wanna kiss me.”

“Would that be so bad?” His smile formed into something kinder, softer, as he took a step closer. 

You shook your head before your mouth had a chance to catch up. “No, not really.”

“In that case, may I?” he asked, as one hand reached out to caress your cheek, the other landing on your small back. Your arms uncrossed themselves to grab his arms and the nape of his neck. You couldn’t help the laugh that escaped you at his question—the fact that he even had to ask.

“We’re at work,” you whispered, despite wanting to relent and press into him with all that you had.

Jack closed his eyes in frustration, forehead pressed against yours. He was so close, yet so far away…

“Fuck,” he muttered. Despite all his feelings for you and the desire to do nothing else than press you up against a wall right there and then, he still had some sort of decorum and professionalism in him. But when he gazed at you, looking so handsome in his arms, his resolve started to dissolve bit by bit. “I’m not on the clock, though.”

“But I am.”

Jack bit his lip as he looked away, swiftly stepping out of your grasp and going over to close the door of the room before he pulled the curtain closed as well. Then he stepped closer to you, the question written in his eyes as clear as days. You couldn’t help but grin at him, at the slight flustered breath as he leaned in closer.

“You’re such a dork. C’mere.” You saw his eyes soften as they traveled down to your lips.

“Thank god,” was all he said as he leaned in and met your lips with his.

Jack’s skin was warm as he pressed closer to you, his lips moving against yours with a hunger and firmness you weren’t expecting. The way he moved his hands over your body made you groan into his lips which only made him grasp you harder. He felt heavenly against you, the way his warmth seeped into yours.

You grasped the nape of his neck, deepening the kiss by pushing against him. It was hard to ignore his shirtless torso as well, so you made sure to run your hand down his back, noticing the shivers that erupted in your fingers’ wake. He let out a low moan at that and you made sure to file that information away for future use. When you pulled away, his full blown pupils were staring into yours with smirk on his lips.

“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that,” he breathed, his lips venturing further south as he placed small kisses against your chin, your throat, down to your collarbone.

You let out something that was a mix between a laugh and a moan. “I think that broke the rules of our agreement.”

“Fuck the agreement,” Jack said as he met your eye properly. “I want you, with or without it.”

Your smile turned crooked. “Does this mean you’ll stop paying me?”

“No, you should be prepared to be spoiled even more,” he replied, his own smirk widening.

“You don’t have to, Jack,” you said, meeting his gaze with a meaningful glare.

Jack merely stepped even closer, incasing you in his strong arms, his lips lowering to your ear as he whispered, “I want to.” And looking into those eyes of his, you think you finally believed him when he said that.