“And I'm sick of being sick for this whole fucking place to witness. And I’m living a sick life that most people call privileged. And they’re kinda right but I’m still sicker than I can cope with.”
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~~ Writing Fanfiction... ~~
☆-Name: Anne
☾-Age: 20
☆-Sexuality: Bisexual
☾-Pronouns: They/them
☆-Boundaries: I’m heavily pro-Palestine, do not follow this account if you support Israel in any fashion. And you will be blocked without hesitation if you are a minor!
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I am so late to this but I'm just gonna go out and say it - Ethan Choi and Crockett Marcel would be the perfect candidates for the enemies/rivals to lovers trope and I'm honestly surprised that there are so few works on the two of them.
Ethan: Maybe, because you’re good-looking, you’re used to getting away with things. But, I want you to know that your actions have an effect on others, and you are a horrible person, and you not understanding you’re a horrible person doesn’t make you less of a horrible person.
Double penetration for Crockett it's what he deserves 🥰 any AU bc he's literally perfect in all of them 🍑
If Crockett were asked, he wouldn’t be able to pinpoint the exact moment that he and Jimmy decided they wanted Ethan. Somewhere along the line, friendly chats turned to flirty voices turned to a stolen kiss in the supply room turned to this, here and now, where Crockett is getting fucked within an inch of his life.
Beneath him, laying down for Crockett to straddle his hips, is Jimmy. This is a position he knows well, loves even, but it’s so much more this time. As Jimmy slowly grinds upward into him, Ethan has two lubed fingers fit in beside Jimmy’s not insubstantial cock. He feels fuller than he’s ever been, and this isn’t even all he’s getting. The knowledge that Ethan is going to fuck him at the same time as his husband makes his own dick twitch, precum beading at the tip and spilling onto Jimmy’s stomach.
“Take a deep breath,” Ethan warns as he removes his fingers. “Let us know if you need to stop.”
Crockett nods and waits. Even Jimmy stills as the head of Ethan’s cock presses against his rim. It takes a few seconds for him to begin to push inside, at which point all the oxygen leaves his lungs. It burns slightly, but isn’t greatly painful. It’s so much. It’s life changing. He thinks he might see God as Ethan slowly pushes in until his hips are flush with Crockett’s ass, and he has the both of them inside him.
“Motherfucker,” he manages to say.
Jimmy laughs and asks if Crockett is ready for them to move.
“Yes, yes please.”
When they both begin to obey, any coherent thought he might have had flies out the window. All he can think about, all he can know, is the feeling of their cocks inside his body. It only takes seconds for him to come, making a mess of Jimmy and clenching tight enough to draw delicious moans from both of the men fucking him.
“S-sorry,” he stutters, still overwhelmed. “Keep going?”
He can practically feel their eyes on him as they slowly continue to build up a rhythm. Crockett’s oversensitive, overstimulated, and it’s so much he thinks he might genuinely be having some spiritual experience by virtue of them fucking him,
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It’s dark when Crockett and Nat finally get back to Med, and late enough that Lolly should be at home, having dinner. She isn’t though, Crockett notes as he allows himself to be led to a treatment room from the ambulance bay. Her little pink puffer jacket is hanging on the back of a chair by the computers, and he knows Sarah would never take her outside without it, especially not in this weather.
He’s suddenly hyper-aware of his own coat, bright blue but stained red, just like his hands are, and he stops abruptly, letting Maggie walk on without him. The coat’s squeezing his lungs, making it harder for him to breathe, and he’s sure that it’s only a matter of seconds before his lips are the same shade as the fabric that’s killing him.
“Crockett?”
Maggie notices him, finally, and he can tell from her reaction that he’s not dying. Still, he can’t understand why his lungs have suddenly stopped working, and why every breath takes more effort than the last.
“Too tight,” is all he manages to get out as he tugs at the zip. It won’t undo, and the more he tries, the more it seems to resist him.
“Hey, you’re okay.” She moves closer to him, holding a hand out to offer her help. “Let me.”
He nods, and watches as she unzips the coat in one smooth motion, then pulls it off him just as easily.
“Lolly, she- she’s little.” He gestures helplessly at the bloodstains, and Maggie nods.
“I’ll find somewhere for it where she won’t see, okay?”
He thanks her as best he can when half of his mind is still trapped in the back of that van, then watches as she walks away and leaves him standing alone in the middle of the ED. There’s a room ready for him, and he can see Monique standing outside it, looking around for him, but he can’t get himself to move.
It feels like forever before Ethan appears in front of him, though logically he knows it’s been a minute at most, and it’s the safest he’s felt since Jim pulled a gun on him and Nat. Ethan’s eyes are red-rimmed, and just the thought of the man he loves crying because of him makes Crockett’s heart ache.
“I didn’t know if I was going to see you again.”
“I’m here now.”
Ethan pulls Crockett towards him, one hand resting between his shoulder blades and the other on the back of his head, gently running his fingers through his hair. Crockett tries to resist - he can’t touch Ethan, not when his hands are still sticky with blood - but being this close to him feels more like home than anything else, and within seconds his head is in the crook of Ethan’s neck, and his hands are hovering just a few inches from his back. It’s as much as he can do, but it’s enough.
Neither of them wants to break the embrace, but eventually Ethan does, urging Crockett to go and get checked out. Monique’s still standing in the doorway of the treatment room, waiting expectantly, but she knows to give Crockett space.
But he does as Ethan says, and makes his way over to the room. Monique tries to get him settled on the bed and hooked up to the monitors, but he just thanks her and tells her she can go. He’s fine - he knows he’s fine - but his hands are still dirty, and everything about the sensation of the dried blood is getting to him.
There’s a little sink in the corner of the room, as there is in every treatment room, and he gets to work washing his hands, the same way he does before surgery. He doesn’t have a brush, so by the time he’s done there’s still blood caked under his nails, too difficult to remove without it, but he feels better, even with the way his shoulders don’t feel quite right.
“Daddy!” A voice interrupts his thoughts, and he realises he’s been watching the water wash down the sink for at least a couple of minutes. It’s clear now, but last he remembers, it was still brown from the blood.
Lolly’s hovering by the open door, and as soon as Crockett sees her, his face breaks into a smile. He’s not sure how much she knows, if anything, so he simply picks her up and carries her over to the bed with him, wincing at the strain on his shoulders.
“Lost?” She points to Jay, who’s waiting by the nurses’ station, and Crockett just smiles. She still remembers him from a couple of months ago when she went missing while they were Christmas shopping, so as far as she knows, Jay helps find people when they’re lost.
“Daddy wasn’t lost. I just had to do a special surgery outside the hospital.”
She frowns. “But Jay?”
“He’s just here because the person having the surgery was a bad guy, and it’s his job to make sure the bad guy doesn’t do any bad things, yeah? But everything’s okay, ma belle.”
This answer seems to satisfy her, so she turns her attention to the embroidery on Crockett’s scrubs, carefully running a finger over each letter.
“Doctor Daddy,” she announces with a smile.
“Is that what that says?”
Her curls bounce up and down as she nods. “Yeah! Doctor Daddy.”
She’s grinning up at him, the gap where she lost her first tooth somehow even cuter than it was that morning, and Crockett finds himself on the verge of tears. He hasn’t even been her dad for a year, but she was his first thought when he was shoved in the back of the van with a gun in his face. She was the thing that kept him going throughout all of it - he had to make it out for his baby. He wasn’t going to leave her and Sarah again, the way he had all those years ago. He couldn’t do that to them.
“Hey sweetheart,” he says, his voice catching in his throat. “Why don’t you go and find Papa and get some food, yeah? It’s almost dinner time, and you’re probably gonna get pretty hungry soon if you don’t eat.”
“Okay! Love you, Daddy.” She kisses his cheek then jumps down off the bed, barely waiting for a response before running off to find Ethan.
It’s only once Crockett’s sure she’s far enough away that he finally lets himself cry.
Prompt by anon: Maybe a sick fic prompt for charcel where Ethan hasn’t been feeling well and nearly faints onto Crockett, and Crockett looks after him.
Rating: T (for occasional swearing)
Word Count: 852
A/N: I apologize for how late this fic is, but I still hope you enjoy it! It’s also posted on Ao3 here.
It was a chilly day in December when Ethan shuffled into the ED around 7 am, having slept in until 6:30 and skipped his morning workout. That should have been his first notion that something was going wrong, in addition to the fact that he’d taken a nap the day before and had been having cold shivers for the last few days. Taking a sip of his coffee, Ethan suppressed another shiver, feeling lightheaded from the fact that he’d skipped dinner the night before to go to bed early and had also skipped breakfast, choosing to just grab a coffee on his way in due to being late.
“Dr. Choi? I need a second opinion on one of my patients, do you mind?”
Ethan turned to see who had spoken, though the southern accent was an easy giveaway. He had to squeeze his eyes shut as he did so, the movement making his dizziness worse, noticing the look of concern that flashed across Crockett’s face as he steadied himself against the counter.
“You okay, sugar? You’re looking a little faint,” Crockett asked with a frown, making a mental note of the slight sheen of sweat on the other man's face as well as how shaky his hands were.
“Y-yeah. I’m fine, just got a little dizzy, that’s all,” Ethan mumbled as the dizziness lessened, and he was finally able to look up at Crockett.
“Did this come on all of a sudden? Or have you been feeling off the last few days?”
“The lightheadedness started this morning. But I guess I’ve been feeling off the last few days.”
“Off? Off how?” Crockett asked in confusion, tilting his head as Ethan ignored his question, and tried to push past him.
“Can we just check on your patient and stop worrying about me? I’m fine,” Ethan huffed as he tried to walk past Crockett, his head spinning once more as the taller man caught his arm.
“Hey, talk to me. You look like you’re about to pass out,” Crockett stated firmly as he looked at the other man, his hand moving slowly from Ethan’s arm to loop around his waist when Ethan’s eyes rolled back and he fell forward into Crockett’s arms.
“Shit. Can I get some help in here?!”
“Ethan? What the hell happened in here Dr. Marcel?” April asked with wide eyes as she helped get Ethan up onto a gurney before wheeling him into Exam Room 1.
“I’m not sure, he was just looking a little off and then he passed out,” Crockett explained as he started to hook Ethan up to the monitors, letting out a small sigh of relief when the other man slowly started to open his eyes.
“Hey sugar, don’t make any sudden movements, I don’t want you passing out again,” Crockett explained, nudging Ethan back down when the man tried to sit up, moving to hook the bag of saline up to the IV he’d made in Ethan’s left arm.
“You’re dehydrated and running a fever. What in hell made you think to come to work was a good idea today?”
Ethan frowned at Crockett’s words and gave a half-hearted shrug as he leaned back against the pillows.
“I dunno, I was feeling like shit last night and this morning, but I didn’t want to bother anyone with it. I didn’t really expect anyone to care anyways,” Ethan explained as he watched Crockett move around the exam room to gather the supplies for a blood draw.
“That’s clearly the dumbest thing you have ever said. It’s obvious to me that everyone here cares about each other. Y’all seem to have such amazing camaraderie that I actually get jealous of how much of an outsider I feel like,” Crockett admitted as he drew the blood for tests before he hooked the IV back up.
“People here do care about you y’know. I mean...I care about you,” Ethan admitted, though he wasn’t sure if it was the fever that was finally making him admit his feelings for the other man or how comfortable he felt being taken care of at that moment.
Crockett cracked a smirk as he grabbed a cool damp cloth to brush the sweaty hair off of Ethan’s forehead before he sat on the edge of Ethan’s bed.
“I care about you too sugar, which is why I got worried when you passed out. Which, by the way, you didn’t have to do just to get my attention, you know that right? Asking me out for dinner would have sufficed,” he teased with a grin before he dropped a soft kiss onto Ethan’s hair before he moved to get up, raising an eyebrow when Ethan’s hand wrapped softly around his wrist to halt him.
“S-stay? We can talk about this more when I’m not fever drunk,” Ethan mumbled as he pressed his cheek against the pillow with a yawn, a ghost of a smile crossing his lips as Crockett moved to sit back down in the chair next to the gurney.
“I’m not going anywhere sugar. Now, get some rest, you deserve it.”
If someone told Ethan a month ago that he would be having the dirtiest, messiest, best sex of his life on the floor with Crockett Marcel, he wouldn’t have believed it. Crockett’s arrogant, self-centered, annoying, and a liar, and Ethan never really considered himself to be into men anyways. Besides that, he had kissed April. And that doesn’t account for how many times he’s argued with Ethan about patient care, flirted with him, or taken not-so-discreet sips from a flask on his lunch hour. Even if Ethan did already know he was attracted to men, he really wouldn’t have thought that he’d ever have sex with Crockett in a million years.
But here they are.
Crockett’s struggling to stay up on his knees, drooling onto the hardwood and his torso wet with cum from the first orgasm of the night. He’s a picture, really. As much as he likes to mouth off, it’s so easy to shut him up. Just put a cock in his mouth, and he’ll not only give some great head, but he gets off on it too, covering himself with fluid just from his own lazy wrist and getting his throat fucked.
This whole thing is just messy. Besides the drool and cum, there’s lube dripping down Crockett’s thighs from using a little too much, and as his hands skid on the smooth floor for purchase and he tries to stay still enough for Ethan to keep fucking him, there are tears on his cheeks to catch the light in the prettiest way.
The only word that comes to mind to describe the most obnoxious surgeon Ethan has ever met right now is slutty. There’s no other way to put it. He gets off on the roughness, moans like something out of an adult film, begs Ethan to do things that no one has ever asked him for in the past.
Ethan winds up with one arm under Crockett, holding him up with his forearm across his hips and trapping him in place, the other pressing down on the back of his neck to stop him from squirming. There’s power in this too, he thinks. Crockett might let him do anything.
On that exact note, Crockett makes this high pitched noise and the muscles in his abdomen go firm and tense. “Fuck, please,” he breathes, sounding for all the world like he’s run a marathon. “Ethan, Ethan, please-”
He doesn’t know why he does it. Some dark impulse inside of him, borderline desperate to see exactly how much Crockett is willing to take right now, makes him. He works his jaw and spits on him, watching the thick saliva drip down his back, making it’s way to the little space between his shoulder blades.
Like it’s the push he’s been waiting for, Crockett’s body tightens up like a vice, and he makes the most broken sound as he comes on the floor. It’s a pathetic little dribble now. Almost cute, in a word. But it doesn’t matter because Ethan hasn’t come yet, and when he fucks him a little harder through the way Crockett goes tight around him, his only response are more moans.
