Jas @thatsojasminesworld - Tumblr Blog

Vital Signs of Attraction: Part 4

pairing: jack abbot x resident!fem!reader

summary: after a heart-to-heart with McKay about your feelings for Jack the future of your relationship seems just as mysterious as ever. you wonder how you're going to keep it together when you and Jack are alone in Hawaii for the conference.

contains: MDNI! no use of y/n, editing of canon, lil angst, smut, fluff, MEDICAL INACCURACIES!!!

word count:

author's note: sorry this took so so long to write but i hope it was worth the wait :)

Previous Part

THURSDAY 7:00AM

You shove your backpack into your locker, pulling out your water bottle as music blares in your headphones. You had spent all weekend packing and repacking for Hawaii, you must have filled and emptied your suitcase three times before giving up and leaving your entire closet on the floor. Your mind had obviously been on Jack the whole time, trying on outfits that might be too formal, too informal, for a medical conference. You let out a breath, staring into your open locker when a hand touches your shoulder. You jerk around and pull off your headphones.

“Sorry!” Mel pulls back, “sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“No, no, you’re fine,” you sigh with a smile, closing your locker.

“Are you ok? You were kind of…” Mel gestures forward making waving motions

“Yeah, no, I’m just- I’m still waking up,” you say, zipping your dark grey sweatshirt.

“Ok, good.” Mel seems relieved, “I wanted to tell you about this Fort Pitt thing I did over the weekend.”

“Tell me,” you say as you walk towards the hub. Just as Mel starts telling you about her butter churning class, Jack pushes a gurney through the hub, a young boy damp with sweat lays still, his mother gripping the guard rail, pale in the face with fear.

“I got a hot and unresponsive child. I need a room, Dana.” Jack says before calling for you and Mel to glove up and follow.

“Trauma Two,” Dana calls.

“We need a core temp ASAP,” you say as you push into the trauma room, a crying woman gripping the edge of the gurney, you turn your head towards her, “are you Mom?"

“Brenda Azurmendi.” She says, trying to calm herself down.

“And this is?” You look down at the little boy, he can’t be older than six.

“Micah,” Brenda breathes.

“Has Micah been sick with a fever?” You ask, cutting off the little boys shirt with medical sheers.

“Yes,” Brenda heaves, “but he was getting better. Then he got up to go to the bathroom this morning and screamed out in pain,”

“Do you know the last time he urinated?” Mel asks.

“I don’t- I don’t know,” Brenda says.

You press down gently with your fingertips moving upward from his pubic bone. You feel a distinct, dome-like mass.

“Bladder is distended,” you say, catching Jack's eye.

“We need a pediatric foley cath in here now,” Jack nods across the bed to Princess who exits the room to find one.

“Why’s that Mel?” you ask her.

“Could be because an infection or a blockage is causing both problems at the same time,” she says.

“Good,” you nod.

“Uh, airway is patent with low tidal volume,” Mel says, “let's set up for intubation.”

“When did he lose consciousness?” You ask Brenda.

“By the time we got here, I- I couldn't wake him up,” Brenda says.

“Ok let’s get roc and ketamine on board,” you say to Mel who nods, grabbing the meds.

“Almost no tone,” Jack says, shaking his head, “I can do this without meds, easy enough to bag.”

“When the temperature is this high, the muscles can lose their strength,” you say to Brenda, trying to keep her calm and in the loop, “so we're going to help him breathe with a tube,”

“Princess,” you call, noticing the distended way Micah’s abdomen strained, “we need that pedes cath now,”

“None down here!” Princess shakes her head, “Mateo’s running to the ICU to get some,”

“What about a pedes suprapubic cath kit?” You say, starting to get anxious.

“Getting those too,” Princess calls.

“Fuck,” you huff, turning to the supply cart, “what the fuck do we have then?”

Your eyes scan over the material in the cart. This isn’t something this kid can wait on.

“What do you need?” Jack says, coming up beside you.

“I need you to trust me,” you say, already straying to pull out various tubings and bags.

“I do,” Jack says, your eyes meeting for a moment, and the way he’s looking at you makes your hands slow.

“I need IV tubing and a 1 liter IV bag,” you say, and he pulls open a lower, grabbing the materials as you work. You take the nine french cordis catheters, connecting to a three way port.

“Here,” Jack stands back up. You take the secondary IV tubing and stab it into an empty 1L IV bag.

“Jack, ultrasound,” you say, hanging the IV bag to gravity, he hovers the wand over Micha’s abdomen, “let’s see that bladder,”

Jack moves slowly and steadily over the boy's stomach.

“There you are,” you say, as the bladder comes into focus on screen, “advancing into the bladder,” you say, slowly pushing the catheter. It happens almost comically fast. As soon as you push the large needle in far enough you hit the gold mine, literally. Urine rushes out immediately, and your eyes flick down to the IV bag checking the quantity, 800mL.

“Not bad,” Jack says raspy and low, and you shake your head a little, focusing.

“Uh, rectal temp is 104.5,” Perlah says.

“Ice packs to the groin and axilla,” Jack says.

“Perlah, see if we have an Arctic Sun that's not in use,” you say, she nods and leaves the room, “we need all the ice we can get and a pediatric body bag,” you say lowering your voice. You don’t realize Brenda hears you, you don’t notice her leave the room.

“Temp is down to 103,” Mel reads the thermometer.

“102, we take him off the ice,” Jack says, “don’t want to overshoot, cause hypothermia,”

“That’s a really encouraging sign,” You say, turning to gauge her reaction to her son’s temperature drop, but she’s not behind you anymore, “where's Mrs. Azurmendi?”

“She stepped out,” Jordan, one of the new nurses, says.

“Stepped out?” You say, and look at Jack with a furrowed brow. He gives you a firm nod and you turn and walk out of the room.

9:00AM

“Hey,” you call to Dana as you approach the hub, “mom who came in with a little boy, dark hair, flowery sweater, did she walk by here?”

“Yeah,” Dana says, “said she needed some air, headed for the ambo bay,”

“That’s- ok,” you say, turning in that direction. You walk through the sliding doors, spotting Brenda at the top of the driveway.

“Mrs. Azurmendi!” You call after her, but she keeps walking, turning down the corner, “fucking great,” you huff, starting the jog in her direction. You see her stand at the curb, looking into the traffic down the street, a large truck approaching fast.

“Brenda!” you call out, running faster, a knot forming in your stomach.

She takes a step into the street. You get to her just as her foot touches the pavement, grabbing her and pulling her back. You fall back hard, catching her against your body. You feel the pavement scrape your elbow and you take in a sharp gasp at the stinging sensation. You push yourself up, helping her to her knees and she begins hysterically sobbing.

“It’s ok,” you say softly, “you’re ok, let’s get you back inside. Let’s get you back to Micah,”

“It’s my fault,” she cries.

“It’s not,” you say, holding her head against your chest as she clings onto you, “it’s not your fault. Kids get sick,”

Brenda lets out a sad whimper as you pull her to her feet.

“Let’s get you inside, ok?” You say, “it’s freezing out here,”

Brenda nods and wraps her arms around herself, as if she’s only now realizing it’s a cold, November day. The two of you walk back down towards the ambulance bay, you keeping a firm arm around her.

“Dana,” you say as the pair of you approach the hub, “B1 open?”

“Yeah,” Dana says, giving you a sympathetic look. You guide her into the behavior health room and motion for her to sit down on the bed.

“What are we doing in here?” Brenda says, wiping the tears from her eyes, “where’s Micah?

“Micah is with the best doctor in the hospital,” you say, slow and steady, “but it was really loud in there, so I thought we could come in here for a little, is that ok?”

She gives you a small nod.

“Ok,” you say softly.

10:00AM

You push out a B1 after talking to Brenda for almost an hour and let out a sharp breath, walking towards the hub.

“What’s going on with mom?” Jack asks, falling into step next to you. You turn to him before sneaking a look over your shoulder to the room where Brenda sat.

“She tried to walk into traffic,” you say in a low voice, “I grabbed her when she was seconds from being run over,”

“Jesus,” Jack furrows his brow and stops walking, resting a hand on your shoulder, “are you ok?”

Before you can answer Henderson comes up behind you with McKay and Ellis in tow.

“I heard you whipped up a suprapubic catheter at bedside,” Henderson says, clapping you on the shoulder, “that is some real Wild West shit,”

You give a weak smile.

“That one of your tricks, Abbot?” Ellis asks.

“Nope, that was all her.” Jack turns to you, and suddenly his face goes a shade lighter and he grabs your arm, turning you away from him.

“You’re bleeding,” he says, worry in his voice. You twist your arm up to get a better look and he lets go reluctantly. You click your tongue in annoyance, drips of dried blood ribbon down your arm.

“Aw, shit,” you huff, looking down where some blood got on your scrub top, “great start to the day,”

“Come on,” McKay says, nodding you towards an empty room before Jack can even think to speak, “I’ll patch you up,”

“Ok,” you say, following her slowly, “but make it quick, and I want a pink bandaid,”

McKay laughs as the two of you walk into the room, yanking the curtain shut behind the both of you.

“Do we have any bandage wrap down here?” You say, sticking your elbow awkwardly under the sink, “bandaids give me-”

“A rash?” McKay finishes for you, holding up a roll of hot pink bandage wrap.

“Aw,” you say, tilting your head, tone dripping with overblown sweetness, “you remembered,”

“Mhm,” she smiles, handing you a paper towel. You wipe off your arm, gently dabbing the cut which is superficial at the worst. McKay squeezes antibiotic jelly onto her tray and swipes some up with the little wooden stick, applying it to your wound gently.

“So…” she says, like she has something specific she wants to talk about.

“Yes?” You say, drawing out the word, looking over your shoulder.

“Heard you’re going on a little trip next week,” she says, letting that fact hang in the air for a second, “with Abbot,”

You sigh, shoulders slouching down and head rolling forward.

“Yes,” you say, straightening back out, “I am going to a work conference with my co-author / boss,”

“My boss has never paid to take me to Hawaii,” McKay says and you can hear the smirk in her voice as she gently presses a piece of gauze to your skin.

“Jack didn’t pay for anything,” you emphasize, “the hospital did,”

“Oh it’s Jack now?” McKay says, reaching around you for the pink wrap.

“Oh it’s Jack now,” you say in a mocking, high pitched voice, “that’s what you sound like,” McKay laughs as she stretches out a few inches of the bright bandage, you hold it in place at the crook of your elbow.

“I didn’t realize this hospital has Hawaii money,” McKay says.

“He talked to Gloria,” you huff as McKay carefully wraps your arm, “said it would be good for donors and funders, you know how she is,”

“But Gloria doesn’t like you,” McKay says, a knowing smile on her face. You drop your mouth open in mock offense as you turn towards her, arm all wrapped up in hot pink bandages

“She likes my paper,” you raise an eyebrow.

“And what does Jack like?” McKay says, dropping her voice and crossing her arms. You shake your head and roll your eyes. Fine, you’ll play along.

“My body,” you say, voice sultry, making McKay laugh and give a sharp clap in amusement. The two of you giggle like high schoolers talking about a crush.

“Are you… are you seeing him?” McKay asks, brows furrowed, not in judgement but genuine curiosity. The two of you hadn’t spoken about Abbot in this context since the night she stitched you up after you were hit in the head on the fourth of July.

“No- I-” you shake your head, letting out a little breath. “No. No.”

“Nothing has happened since then?” McKay asks.

“Not really,” you sigh and McKay crosses her arms.

“No or not really?” She squints her eyes at you. You open your mouth ready to say no again but you can’t. Because that’s not true. You let out a breath.

“Remeber in, like, late September when I was covering night shift and my ex came into the ER?” You say.

“The asshole who knocked up that other girl?” McKay huffs, “yeah I remember,”

“Well… that night- or morning- whatever there was this moment… or maybe moments?” You twist your fingers together, “I don’t know,”

McKay says nothing, only raising an eyebrow, waiting for you to keep going.

“He- Abbot-” you sigh in resignation, “Jack seemed to get upset when I told the guys about Ryan and what he did and he went to a room to cool down and when we were in there… I don’t know… there was this moment where I thought he was gonna kiss me…”

“But you didn’t kiss him?” McKay clarifies.

“Not then,” you say sheepishly and her eyes go huge, “I would just like to reiterate that I was distraught and had a horrible night and was sleep deprived-”

“When?” McKay cuts you off. You sigh.

“After that shift my car wouldn’t start and he drove me home and I asked him to come inside and he did…” you say.

“Is that a euphemism?” McKay smirks.

“We didn’t have sex,” you say instantly, feeling the blush spread across your face. It all just comes spilling out of you, “we just… we took off all our clothes and got into my bed and I kissed him, just barely, and I asked him to kiss me back but he said ‘I’ll kiss you when we wake up if you still want me to,’ and I did but when I woke up he was gone but he only left to come here to meet with Gloria to get us the money to go to the conference and then the moment passed and it’s normal now again I think.”

“You think.” McKay repeats flatly. “Abbot just got white in the face when he saw you with a little scrape. I think the moment is still very much here, my friend.”

“Cass- I-” you open your mouth to keep talking, as if some good reason might suddenly materialize but nothing comes out.

“Why is it exactly that you can’t see him?” She asks. You can only stare at her.

“I- he’s like my boss- basically- and then what if we do and then everyone will talk about it-” you sputter out.

“Since when do you care if people talk about you?” McKay raises an eyebrow incredulously.

“I don’t,” you sigh, leaning back against the gurney, “I just- he’s… he’s sensitive,”

“Jack Abbot?” McKay almost laughs.

“He is,” you insist.

“Ok, ok,” McKay holds her hands up in surrender, “I believe you, he’s mister sensitivity. But besides the hospital rumor mill, which if I may, is already churning stuff out about the two of you, I haven’t heard a reason.”

“The boss reason?” You say.

“When has that stopped a single person in this hospital?” McKay rolls her eyes, “plus Robby is your boss… and someone who has dated a subordinate more than once…”

“You are being very pushy this morning,” you say, tilting your head to the side.

“You are being very withholding this morning,” she counters, “what’s the real reason?”

The two of you stare at each other in a silent stand off before you finally break.

“Because what if we go for it and it’s a disaster and then we have to work together still and I just-” your hands flop to your sides and your voice drops to a mumble, “I don’t want to lose him like that,”

“You need to stop thinking about this like a person because you clearly suck at that,” McKay says, leaning against the bed next to you, “think about it like a doctor. That kid today, he could have died from a perforated bladder, your weird contraption could have made it worse or killed him, but you trusted your gut and you saved him. You calculated the benefits and risks and did something bold because you thought it could work, not that it would work.”

You sigh, with a petulant, child-like pout on your face.

“What if you and Abbot could work?” McKay nudges your shoulder with hers, “isn’t that… worth the risk?”

SATURDAY 1:00PM

You and Jack fly to Hawaii separately, apparently there was some critical attending related meeting that he couldn’t miss but he insisted on sending you out on an earlier flight. Go see a volcano or a waterfall, he had suggested when you protested, saying you’d be fine waiting and flying out together, but he didn’t budge. You land in Maui and the day is absolutely glittering.

The air is warm and serene and you can smell the salt of the sea as you rest your head against the open car window as you sit in the back of a cab on your way to the hotel. You step out of the car and walk into the lobby, adorned with tropical flowers, and stones the color of the ocean.

“Hello,” a young man smiles at you as you step up to the concierge desk, “Welcome to Hyatt Regency Maui Resort and Spa, my name is Matthew, are we checking in?”

“Uh, yeah,” you smile.

“And what’s the name on the reservation?” Matthew asks.

“I think it’s Abbot,” you say, trying to ignore the flutter in your heart that gives you,“Jack Abbot,”

“Alright,” Matthew types on his keyboard, “I see two rooms under Abbot,”

“Is one of them ADA?” You ask.

“Yes,” Matthew nods, his eyes on the screen.

“Then I’m the other one,” you say.

“Oh I see here, he put a note on the reservation,” Matthew smiles and asks your name, you offer it, “perfect,” he types some more, “and I see we have a credit card on file for expenses while you’re here, also under Jack Abbot,”

“Oh,” you say, a little surprised, shouldn’t it be the hospital card? You drum your fingers on the desk, “no, I- uh-” you reach in your bag pulling out your wallet and hand Matthew one of your credit cards, “can you put it on this one?”

“I certainly can,” Matthew says, swiping and keying in your information. “Alright, you are all set. You are room 432, up on the fourth floor with an ocean view,”

“Thank you so much,” you say, taking your card and roomkey, “um,” you pause, picking at one of your cuticles, “could you tell me the other room number?”

“Yes,” Matthew types quickly, “room 434,”

“Ok,” you smile, “thank you, Matthew,”

“Enjoy your stay!” He smiles. You roll your bag to the elevator bay and ascend to the fourth floor. Once you get to your room you glance at the door right across the hall, 434, you smile to yourself as you push into your room.

8:00PM

You decided to spend your evening alone having a drink at the outdoor bar. You’d slipped on a green linen dress and came downstairs and are now sipping a Mai Tai as the warm, tropical air wraps around you. The rummy drink makes you slip into a daydream, you can’t help but wish Jack was here right now. You’d thought a lot about what McKay said and you’d gone back and forth about fifty times on whether or not she was right.

At this moment you were in camp correct, but decided that you should wait to tell Jack how you felt until after the conference. It just seems too messy to do it while you’re here. Still, it’ll be nice to spend time alone with him together, when you’re not having a breakdown over your ex. When you can just be with Jack. You stir your straw in your drink absentmindedly when a voice interrupts you from your fantasy.

“Are you ok?” The stranger says, resting his hand on the back of the chair next to you.

“Me?” You sit up straight, you must have looked more spaced out than you realized, “no, I’m fine, I was just… thinking,”

“Are you sure?” He furrows his brow, he’s handsome, maybe late forties with chestnut hair and a dimple in his chin, “because I’m a doctor and if you’re not feeling well-”

“There is no way that works on women,” you say, cutting him off and trying to bite back a laugh.

“You know, I’ve actually never been brave enough to try that line but you are… very beautiful,” he says and this gets a real laugh from you.

“I appreciate your candor,” you say.

“I’m Scott,” he says and you tell him your name with a small smile, “you’re not… are you here for the conference?”

You take in a sharp breath through your teeth.

“I am,” you say.

“And…” Scott pauses, seeming to take in the blunder his just made, “you’re a doctor,”

“I am,” you nod.

“Yeah,” Scott scratches the back of his neck, “wow I must look like a huge asshole,”

“Mm, I’d say regular asshole,” you say.

“I recognize your name from the program,” Scott confesses, “you’re treatment of intracardiac air embolism cath aspiration during a mass casualty event,”

“Jesus,” you scrunch your eyebrows, “how the hell do you remember that?”

“I got a thing with names.” Scott says, “I’m just gonna ask before I make any more dumb assumptions, are you… single?”

“I have a-” you pause for a second. Jack’s not really anything to you besides your co-worker but still, even with the other handsome doctor in front of you, you can’t help but wish it was Jack instead.

“I’m not,” you say definitively.

“Lucky guy,” Scott smiles, “well uh, in the case I’ll leave you to it. Maybe I’ll see you on the conference floor,”

“Maybe,” you say, giving him a small smile as he backs away, joining a group of other men who he clearly knows. You sigh, looking down at your almost empty drink.

“There’s a medical conference here,” an older woman behind the bar says, making you look up at her, “he’s probably a doctor… handsome doctor…”

“I’m a doctor,” you say, frowning, feeling a little slighted.

“You’re young for a doctor,” she says, looking you up and down. You give a fake, falsey smile and toss back the rest of your drink.

“I’m a young doctor,” you say, pushing back from the bar and walking out of the room.

MONDAY 7:00AM

Jack’s flight had been delayed making him get in much later on Sunday night than anticipated. Something about this small stall made you feel a little nervous for a reason you couldn’t quite put your finger on. The pair of you had texted a little bit while he was waiting for his connecting flight in California and had agreed to grab a coffee together before jumping into the conference proceedings. You take a quick shower before getting dressed, letting the warm water slowly wake you up. You put on a long, polka dot, mock neck dress, a little black pair of kitten heels, and pull your hair back low and loose. You’re just putting in a pair of gold hoops when there’s a knock at your door.

You take a few quick steps and pull the door open and you can feel yourself start to blush the second you get your eyes on him. Jack is wearing a brown tweed jacket and a cream colored button up tucked into well tailored brown slacks. He looks good. Really good. You’d genuinely never considered him in anything other than scrubs or cargos or some iteration of those two. While you panic-packed trying to come up with outfits that were professional but not stuffy and flirty but not inappropriate it hadn’t even crossed your mind that Jack would also not be in his normal hospital attire. He always managed to look handsome under the harsh fluorescence of the ED in his mismatched scrubs but now… you’re speechless.

“Morning,” he starts with a small smirk because you’re clearly not going to.

“Hi,” you say, moving to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear without thinking inadvertently dropping the door, “fuck, sorry,” you reach for the handle but Jack’s hand is already there, pushing it back open.

“Jet lagged?” He says with a little twinkle in his eye.

“Yeah, something like that,” you say, a small smile tugging on the corner of your lips. A quietness lingers in the air between the two of you, not one of discomfort but rather a moment of slow acclimation, like you’re trying not to snap back together too quickly.

“You ready to go?” Jack says.

“Oh, yeah, I just need my bag,” you turn back into your room. Jack keeps the door open with his foot, he can’t help himself, his eyes wandering down your body. He swallows hard, tugging his collar, the way your dress clings to your waist and falls over your hips is… unfair. God, you look stunning. He thinks you look gorgeous in your scrubs but this is something totally different, you look otherworldly. He slyly adjusts his slacks. He’s been to conferences like this before and knows you will definitely stick out amongst the sea of trousers, button ups, and stuffy business-attired patrons. Fashion has never been something he’s paid any attention to but seeing you like this… he can’t help but feel a little giddy that he gets you like this all week.

Jack knows that the attendants of this conference will be more in his age group or older. Public hospitals where young medical professionals get their start don’t have the funding to send their doctors thousands of miles away. PTMC sure as hell doesn’t. But the way you looked at him when you’d told him the paper got accepted, the fact that you waited to tell him in person, that you wanted to tell him in person… He just wasn’t prepared to let this opportunity pass you by. You turn towards him, shoving some papers in your bag. Your eyes flick back up to him and the way he’s looking at you, with a sort of content longing, makes your stomach flip a little.

“Am I allowed to tell you that you look beautiful?” Jack says, voice low and gravely, keeping the door held open for you.

“No,” you shake your head with a coy smile.

“Then you look terrible,” he smiles back at you.

“I was gonna say the same to you,” you tilt your head to the side.

The two of you wander down to the lobby, waiting in an unreasonably long line for the little cafe, sharing little stories about your journeys here, which devolves into anecdotes of travel horror stories.

“Can I tell you something awful?” You say to him as you step forward in line, inching your way to the front.

“Always,” he says, seeming offended you even asked.

“Once, a while ago, on a flight, this woman passed out and the flight attendants asked if there was a doctor on the plane and I didn’t say anything at first,” you say, a somewhat guilty look in your eyes, “and then like thirty seconds went by and just as I was gearing up to expose myself the guy in the seat next to me sighed really loud and stood up and went ‘yeah, I’m a doctor,’ and he got up to help. I mean if there was really no one else I obviously would have helped but I was exhausted and I didn’t want to…”

“Come on, that’s not so bad,” Jack says, “if it was a long time ago you were what, an intern? A med student? I understand being reluctant to step in.”

“It was the beginning of this year…” you smile, wide-eyed, covering your mouth with your hand. Jack’s mouth drops open a little but there’s a playful glimmer in his eye.

“Oh my god,” Jack shakes his head with a small smile, “you’re an asshole,”

“Me?” You giggle, “what about the other doctor? He was just as much of a doctor as me and he didn’t say anything either!”

“Two asshole peas in a pod,” Jack teases. You don’t even realize the two of you reached the front of the line, Jack making you laugh with his taunting reactions to your story.

“Hi,” Jack says to the girl at the register while you try to stop laughing, tucking yourself behind him, “can I get a small black coffee and a small vanilla latte with almond milk, extra hot?”

Your laughing slows as you realize that he has your coffee order memorized, not even processing that he’s handing the girl his card, too distracted to protest him paying for you, which he knows you typically would have done.

“You know my coffee order?” You furrow your eyebrows the tiniest bit, standing there, dumbfounded. Jack puts his hand on your lower back, slowly guiding you away from the counter so the next person can order.

“You don’t know mine?” Jack raises an eyebrow. You click your tongue.

“Black coffee is easy to remember,” you say knowingly.

“Yours is easy to remember,” Jack shrugs with a small smile.

“Mhm,” you squint at him dubiously, “what’s Shen's coffee order?”

“I’m not sure how that’s relevant,” Jack feigns ignorance, sliding his hands in his pockets.

“He gets the same thing every day,” you smirk, crossing your arms, “it’s printed on the cup,”

“Oh, so you know his order?” Jack smiles, utterly amused by you.

“Iced coffee with whole milk and caramel swirl,” you say with a little shit-eating grin on your face, “and I’m not even on shift with him,”

Jack sighs with adoration, taking a step closer to you, his brown boot bumping up against the toe of your heels. He drops his voice slightly, leaning towards you.

“You and Shen don’t really occupy a similar space in my mind,” he rasps. You can feel your cheeks get hot as you look down to where your shoes touch. Before you can come up with a cheeky reply the barista calls Jack’s name and he turns to grab your coffees. You can’t help but feel grateful for the small intervention because you’re not sure you could have thought of anything else to do besides kiss him at that moment.

The two of you wander in charged silence towards the registration table where a peppy young woman checks the two of you in, handing you both ID badges and paper programs.

“Thank god it’s printed,” you tease, “seems appropriate for your… demographic,”

Jack just shakes his head laughing. You’re right. The crowd here is definitely old. Older. And while it seems to be lost on you, Jack notices more than a few heads turning in your direction. In their defense… how could they not? Look at you. Yet he can’t help but feel protective. You’re his resident. At the same time he relishes in the fact that he’s here with you, feeling almost giddy at the jealousy the other attendants are undoubtedly feeling seeing you at his side. His side.

“So which ones sound fun?” You hold the program out, your shoulder brushing against his. He swallows at the small moment of contact.

“Well,” he clears his throat, eyes drifting down the different talks in the program, “not sure how we could skip ‘Nip and Tuck Gone Amuck: Aesthetics and Plastics Disasters in the ED,’”

“Agreed,” you say with a mock seriousness. The two of you stand shoulder to shoulder, marking the interesting panels with a little star, both trying not to react to the close proximity of the other.

10:30AM

“That was awesome,” you say as you walk out of the conference room for the ‘Novel Agents for Sedation’ talk. The presenter was an anesthesiologist from the California hospital system, she had an acerbic wit, was clearly brilliant, and entirely captivating, “she was awesome. I wanna be her when I grow up,”

“Yeah,” Jack nods, mostly just endeared by your enthusiasm, “she was great,”

“So great,” you sigh with a little smile on your face as you wander towards one of the high tops spread around the lobby.

“What’s next?” Jack asks, nodding towards the program in your hand.

“Oh,” you unfold it, smoothing it out against the table, looking for the talk that you had put a little star next to over coffee, “uh, well the next one we starred is at noon, ‘Keeping Kids Calm Without Ketamine,’” you read from the printed out schedule, “Christ, who comes up with these names?”

“That would be me,” a voice you almost recognize comes from behind you. Shit. You whip around ready to apologize to whichever important person you just insulted and your heart drops to your stomach. It’s the handsome doctor from the other night, and before you can even speak Jack beats you to it.

“Blackwell?” Jack claps the guy’s hand, bringing him into a half-hug.

“Thought that was you, Abbot,” the other guy is smiling at Jack while you try and figure out what exactly to do. For whatever reason you don’t want Jack to know that this guy, who he apparently is fond of based on the interaction unfolding in front of you, had hit on you the other night. What if he tells Jack you flirted back? You were just trying to be polite but this wouldn’t be the first time a man has confused manners for interest.

Jack turns towards you after a moment and introduces you, ghosting his hand over your shoulder, dropping it back to his side.

“We actually met the other night,” Scott says, scratching the back of his neck. Jack turns to you like he’s expecting you to explain but you’re frozen.

“Oh yeah?” Jack says, trying to read your expression.

“You gotta network at these things man,” Scott smiles, “at least, you do if you’re a sellout and get into the lecture circuit,”

“How do the two of you know each other?” You say, wanting to move on, and feeling relieved that Scott spun the way you met into something a little more palatable.

“We did a rural medicine fellowship together at UMass General,” Jack says.

“God, what was it, twenty-five years ago?” Scott winces as if the distance in time pains him. Something about that makes Jack shift in the spot where he stands. Twenty-five years ago. While he was doing a rural medicine fellowship you were busy being three years old.

“I didn’t know you trained in rural medicine,” you say, pulling Jack back from his mini spiral, the length of time between his fellowship and now apparently having no effect on you.

“An army mentor of mine suggested it,” Jack says, “the challenges of rural medicine can be similar to war time medicine, limited resources, remoteness…”

“Forces you to be creative,” Scott adds, “which is why your name on that paper made perfect sense to me,” he claps Jack on the shoulder. That’s how Scott recognized your name the other night, you were already linked to Jack in his mind.

“Man, it was all her,” Jack turns to you, pride shimmering in his eyes.

“You’re such a liar,” you smack his chest, before looking back to Scott, “it was his save,”

“That’s not what I’m gonna say on the panel,” Jack says in a mischievous tone.

“You’re impossible,” you mutter, trying not to blush. A brief pause passes between the three of you while Scott looks between you and Jack.

“Well,” Scott says, trying to break… whatever that was, “it’s a great paper,”

“Thank you,” you acquiesce, taking a small glance at Jack.

“I- uh- I don’t want to keep you guys if you were heading to another talk,” Scott starts, you and Jack cut him off simultaneously, Jack saying yes and you saying no. The pair of you look at each other while Scott lets out a breath like a laugh.

“No, no,” you say again, shaking your head, “you should catch up. I’ll just have to take notes at…” your eyes scan down the schedule looking for something to fill your time while Jack catches up with an old friend, “‘Resuscitate Your Pediatric Resuscitation.’ God that’s awful,”

“Well, doctors aren’t known for their literary creativity,” Scott smiles at you.

“I’ll come find you after,” you nod to Jack, a small smile on your face as you back away, turning and walking towards the next conference room.

“Man,” Scott claps Jack on the shoulder again like he can’t believe his old buddy is really in front of him, “how long’s it been?”

“Oh god,” Jack sighs, “fifteen years? You’re making me feel old,”

“I don’t even know how to do fifteen years worth of catching up,” Scott smiles.

“How’s- uh- Catherine?” Jack says, digging into the recesses of his memory for Scott’s wife's name.

“Ah,” Scott clicks his tongue, “we got divorced a few years back,”

“Oh man,” Jack says, voice low, “I’m sorry to hear that,”

“Yeah, it’s alright,” Scott shrugs, “how about you? You seeing anyone?”

Jack swallows. He’s not sure how to answer that. No, technically he’s not seeing you, but at the same time he’s not interested in seeing anyone but you. So he’s single but not available? He makes himself dizzy with his own caveats, so he just goes for something straightforward.

“No,” Jack says, “not seeing anyone,”

“What? Come on, a silver fox like you, the ladies in Pittsburg must be crawling all over you,” Scott says, hyping up his old friend.

“Nah,” Jack scratches the back of his neck, trying to shake the image of you crawling over him, “it’s uh- hard to make times for things like that,”

“I get it man,” Scott sighs, before shifting a little where he stands, letting out a little breath, “I gotta confess something,”

“Ok?” Jack furrows his brow.

“I may have… made a pass at your co-author the other night,” Scott says, almost wincing. Jack feels his chest get hot, “she was just alone at the bar and in this dress,” he sucks in air through his teeth like the memory of you makes him weak, “I just- I couldn’t help myself.”

Jack only stares, face blank as Scott continues to ramble.

“But she shot me down,” Scott says, blowing a low whistle into the air.

“Oh,” Jack says, his heart starting to steady.

“Whoever she’s with is a lucky motherfucker,” Scott says and off goes Jack’s heart again, thumping in his chest, “I’d like a brilliant, beautiful woman in my life,”

“Who she’s with?” Jack repeats, making sure he’s heard Scott right.

“Yeah,” Scott shrugs, “I asked if she’s single and she said she’s not. Would have been nice to know before I made an ass of myself in front of her but… didn’t have you there to wingman me,” he pats Jack on the shoulder and Jack makes a concerted effort not to wince.

Who the fuck are you with? Surely Jack would have at least heard murmurings through the PTMC grapevine. Your love life had become a particular topic of interest after the whole Ryan incident but you’d never mentioned anyone to him. Then again, would you mention it to Jack if you were seeing someone else? Maybe you’re trying to let him down easy by keeping him in the dark. Jack can’t really think of anything coherent to say, so the first thought just slips out.

“She’s something else,” Jack says, voice low and steady.

“The residents do not look like that at my hospital,” Scott says, shaking his head slowly. He checks his watch and perks up a little, “shit, I gotta run. But we should get drinks,”

“Yeah,” Jack says, not really sure what he’s agreeing to, his mind still on you. Scott pats Jack’s shoulder once more before turning down one of the long hallway corridors.

Jack lets out a deep breath. Maybe this was good. Maybe you being with someone else will finally allow him to move on from what he can’t have. But he has to be sure. He pulls out his phone and sends a quick text.

Jack: I need you to do something for me, no questions asked.

He doesn't expect a quick response, sliding his phone back in his pocket, but it vibrates almost immediately.

Dana: Hello to you too

Dana: What do you need?

Jack stares down at the screen. What exactly does he need? He needs to not beat around the bush. He texts Dana your name.

Dana: What about her?

Jack: Is she seeing anybody?

Dana: Can’t you ask her that yourself?

Jack: D. Please.

Dana: Not that I know of. Let me check with my inside source.

Jack drums his fingers against the table, staring at the screen. He doesn’t care who Dana is checking with at this point. He doesn’t care if the whole hospital finds out. He just needs to know for himself. For his sanity.

Dana: McKay says she’s single.

Dana: You gonna do something about that?

Jack lets out a little laugh at his old friend's forwardness.

Jack: Thanks Dana. I owe you one.

Dana: I’ll settle for a debrief of your trip when you get back.

Jack smiles down at his phone. Maybe there will actually be something good to tell her.

The rest of the first day is relatively uneventful. You told him about the pediatric resuscitation talk over lunch, his heart had fluttered at the thoroughness of the notes you had taken, the pages covered in your slanting handwriting. The two of you sat in the back row for a particularly boring panel on cardiac fashion wear, spending most of the discussion with your heads together, whispering to each other, trying not to laugh too loud. Eventually, Jack pulled you out the back door of the conference hall after he made a particularly stupid joke about ‘wearing your heart on your sleeve.’ He knew you were laughing at him more than the joke itself but he didn’t care. Your laugh is his favorite sound.

Jack tries to convince you to come with him to the steakhouse at the resort that night but you insist that you need to go over your notes before your panel tomorrow.

“I’ll just get room service or something,” you say, trying to ease his mind.

“Whatever you need,” Jack says, his eyes tracing over your face, “but you got it. You’re ready.”

“I’ll just feel better if I go over my notes,” you say, twirling a piece of hair between your fingers.

“Ok,” Jack says softly. You give him a little smile before walking towards the elevators leaving Jack in the lobby with his thoughts. He ends up wandering back to his room not long after you. As he sits at the small table, a half-eaten burger in front of him, he can help but wish that the two of you were going over your notes together. He hates that you feel so nervous, aching to do something to make you feel better.

Jack imagines the two of you in your room, trays of room service scattered around as you sit pressed up next to each other on the loveseat. Maybe you’d just be wearing one of his t-shirts and a pair of panties. Maybe he’d be drawing shapes on your thighs as you practice your talking points. He could press kisses to your throat when you gave a particularly good answer to his hypothetical moderator question, but his lips would probably end up on your neck no matter what you’d say. He could run his fingers through your hair, playing with your soft locks gently as you sigh under the steady pressure of his fingertips. He could rub your shoulders, your feet, anything you needed. He just wants to take care of you.

TUESDAY 1:00PM

You’re pacing in the hallway near the conference room where your panel is starting in thirty minutes. You’d been walking back and forth for about five minutes. Before that it was biting your nail and staring into space. Jack leans against the far wall watching you. Even though you are a ball of nerves he thinks you look adorable. Well, not just adorable. You have on a fitted black blouse, a sleek pleated skirt, and a belt cinching your waist… you look gorgeous.

Jack sighs, pushing himself from the wall and walking right into your path. You practically walk into him when you turn around, making a little oh sound that makes Jack’s heart squeeze. Jack’s wearing a crisp blue button up and a dark grey suit, his outfit not doing anything to quell your nerves. You feel even more worked up at how handsome he looks and now he’s standing so close that you can smell his cologne.

“Hey,” he says, voice low and raspy.

“I’m nervous,” you say.

“I got that impression,” Jack nods with a small smile, “Listen. You are one of the best ER doctors I know, you’re the person I would want around in an emergency,”

“We are in a hotel with the top emergency medicine people in the country,” you roll your eyes, “you could just point to a random person and they’re know more about this shit than me,”

“I didn’t say you know the most about it,” Jack says, making you look back towards him, “just that you’re the best I know,”

“You need to know more people,” you mumble, eyes dropping to the floor.

“Well, maybe, but…” Jack can’t help himself, he takes your face in his hands, making you look up at him, “you’re still the person I would want around,”

“Really?” You say, eyes shining. Fuck. He wants to kiss you so badly.

“Really,” he says, moving his hands from your face, shoving them into his pockets.

“What if someone asks something I don’t know the answer to?” You say, still slightly fidgety.

“I’m gonna be right there with you,” Jack says.

You let out an adorable little sigh.

“I know,” you say.

“I got you,” he says, voice soft.

“I know,” you say again.

And you do know. You know Jack has your back. You know that even in the extremely unlikely situation that someone gets snippy with you Jack will step in. But you don’t want him to do that. You want to be able to handle it. The way that he handles tense and stressful situations, with ease and grace. You just want to make him proud.

10:00PM

‘Atypical Asystole: Procedure Innovation in the ED’ was a hit. You were a hit. Scott says so himself as you, he, and Jack have a late night drink in the lounge. You sit next to Jack on the little loveseat, Scott in a big armchair, caddy cornered to your right.

“Please stop,” you say, your smile hurting your cheeks at the compliments you’re being showered with.

“No,” Jack nudges your knee with his glass, “you deserve it. You were… brilliant,”

“You really did a fantastic job,” Scott nods.

“Thank you,” you say, swirling the ice in your empty glass, “I’m- uh- gonna get another, do you guys want something?”

Jack and Scott both say no, still working on the expensive scotch Scott had bought for a job well done. He’d offered you a glass and you and Jack exchanged a look before a laugh escaped your mouth. You politely declined, scotch isn’t really my thing, you’d said. Jack raised his eyebrows, a small smirk on his face, as if to silently agree. Now, as you wait at the bar for another Mai Tai Jack can’t help but sneak a glance in your direction.

“So,” Scott says, Jack turns back towards him, “tell me if I’m totally off the mark but… the two of you… I’m kind of picking up a vibe,”

“I-” Jack starts, shaking his head, but he doesn't even know what to say to that.

“Abbot, I get it,” Scott says, eyes flicking in your direction briefly, “I kinda got the impression she said she wasn’t single just to blow me off, and maybe I’m over stepping but… you and her just- you have chemistry…”

“Who wouldn’t want to have chemistry with her?” Jack says, his gaze lingering on you for a moment. You turn around and start to walk back towards them, your eyes landing on Jack, your mouth curving into a little smile.

“Did Abbot ever tell you about his CIPA buddy?” Scott holds his glass out towards Jack as you sit back down.

“Oh, god, not this again,” you sigh.

“A fellow skeptic,” Scott nods, teasing Jack, “I was a non-believer too. But I met the guy.”

“You…” you stare right at Jack shaking your head, “you told him to say that, didn’t you? You really need arbor day off that badly?”

“What? No! I-” Jack laughs, catching his head in his hands and gestures to Scott for him to back up his story.

“He told me nothing,” Scott holds his hands up defensively.

“Mhm,” you say, taking a sip of your drink, eyes shifting between the two of them over the rim of your glass.

“Why would he lie?” Scott says with sympathy. You and Jack lock eyes and it’s like you’re having a shared memory, back on that fateful night together when he had asked you the same thing. To impress me, you’d said. Jack gives you a small, knowing smile. You glance down at your drink, heat bursting across your cheeks.

“I- uh-” you shake your head trying to form a coherent thought, “I just… leave it to Jack Abbot to diagnose one of only three hundred cases to CIPA,”

“Don’t worry,” Scott says, “you’ll get your one in a million diagnosis. Just gotta be around as long as we have,”

“Oh yeah?” you smile, “what’s yours old timer?”

“Lesch-Nyhan Syndrome,” Scott says, a smirk on his face like he’s pleased with how much this will impress you. It makes Jack’s throat tighten a little.

“Lesch-Nyhan’s…” you nod slowly, then a small smile spreads across your lips, “that’s impressive. But I can beat Lesch-Nyhan,”

Jack turns to you, his brow furrowed.

“Oh, come on you know this,” you tilt your head towards Jack, “Lemierre’s syndrome,”

As soon as you said it the memory came flooding back. He did remember. How could he forget? The two of you had worked on that case together. Or rather you had dragged him on when Robby didn’t give you the answer you wanted. When you were sure it was Lemierre’s.

“The other attending didn’t believe me, said I was looking for zebras but…” you smile at Jack, “he believed me,”

“Wow,” Scott says, “Lemierre’s is a crazy catch,”

“And she was an intern,” Jack says.

“And I was an intern,” you nod.

“A truly great teacher isn’t afraid to learn from his students,” Scott says.

“Aw, man, come on,” Jack says, pushing aside his friend’s complement.

“Honestly based on your panel today I’d guess you’re a pretty good teacher too,” Scott nods towards you.

“She is,” Jack says, pride swelling in his chest.

“Ever think of doing a teaching fellowship?” Scott asks, “we have a great program at the California Hospital Medical Center,”

“You trying to poach my resident right in front of me, Blackwell?” Jack says, his tone light but you can feel how serious he is.

“I’m just saying teaching could be a good fit for you,” Scott says, holding his hands up in surrender, “doesn’t have to be in California,”

Damn right it doesn’t, Jack thinks. It should be in Pittsburgh. Where you belong. With him.

“I actually like teaching more than I thought, but some of the med students and interns…” you sigh wistfully, “do you remember that intern who tried to do a knee reduction? Arguably the easy dislocation to fix, it’s gotta be, what, preclinical musculoskeletal and anatomy? Year one med school stuff. But he shoved it back so hard he dislocated it to the other side. It was brutal.”

Jack laughs, he remembers that case so clearly. You ran into him in the parking lot during that heat wave in August and told him about it, absolutely giddy. Then something in Jack’s mind clicks. That case was in August… only a month before Ryan came to PTMC in desperate need of a patella reduction. A procedure you’d said you hadn’t done in a long time. A procedure that you said you needed Jack to walk you through. A procedure you had taught to an over zealous med student only a month prior. Jack takes another sip of his scotch, smiling to himself as he swallows.

“Oof,” Scott winces at the thought of a re-dislocated knee, “that’s tough,”

“I’d still like to teach though,” you say, swirling the ice in your glass with your straw, “I was actually talking to Robby about the medical education fellowship at PTMC,”

Jack felt his heart squeeze. That’s his girl.

“Well, I’m sure you’d be a shoe-in,” Scott smiles.

“It’s a pretty competitive program,” you click your tongue. Jack knows he’d do anything to make sure you got that spot but he also knows you deserve that spot based on your own merits. You didn’t need his help, but he would give it in a second if you asked.

“You’d get my vote,” Jack says.

“I know,” you smile at him softly and the two of you just hold each other's gaze for a moment.

“I, uh, should probably call it a night,” Scott claps his hands to his knees, snapping you and Jack out of your little trance, “I got a panel moderation at 8 in the morning,”

“Alright, see you tomorrow,” Jack nods.

“Night,” you say with a small smile. After Scott disappears down the hallway Jack clears his throat.

“You really were incredible today,” he says, you turn towards him, your knees brushing against his.

“Thank you,” you said, “I really- I couldn’t have done all this without you,”

“That’s not true,” Jack says.

“It is,” you say firmly, “how many attendings do you know who would let an R3 do that insane procedure? Or trust an intern's Lemierre’s diagnosis?”

“I knew you could do the procedure,” Jack shrugs with a smile, “and it was a good diagnosis, the imagining, blood work, and labs all pointed to it. Just have to be open-minded enough to see it… sometimes it is a zebra.”

“Fine,” you sigh, the corner of your mouth turned up, “maybe I just wouldn’t want to have done all this without you,”

“You’re something else, you know that?” Jack says, voice low. His eyes flick down to your mouth and he watches your breath catch in your throat.

“Sorry to interrupt,” an overly enthusiastic young woman says, clearly talking to you, making you both reluctantly turn, “but you were on the panel today for innovative procedures, right?”

“Oh, yeah,” you smile, “that was us,”

“That was just a fantastic talk, I just wanted to tell you that, and introduce myself,” she says, almost entirely ignoring Jack which may be for the best as he scratches the back of his neck trying not to laugh at this stranger's outrageously bad timing.

“I’m Nina,” she holds her hand out, you take it and introduce yourself back, standing so she doesn't awkwardly hover over you, “oh, I know,” she blusters, and you give her an endearing smile, “it’s just really nice to see young women leading these sorts of conversations,”

“Thank you,” you say, utterly sincere, “that’s so nice of you to say,”

Nina asks you a few questions about your paper which you answer with the patience of a saint, at least according to Jack.

“Well, sorry if I bothered you, I’ll let you enjoy the rest of your night,” she gives an awkward wave.

“No bother at all,” you smile, “nice to meet you Nina,”

She wanders away and you look at Jack who can’t hold back his laughter anymore. You bring your hand to your mouth trying to muffle your own giggle.

“She was sweet,” you laugh.

“You have fans,” Jack says, a look of utter delight on his face.

“A fan,” you clarify, “one fan,” the two of you still struggling to control yourselves.

“Let’s get out of here,” he says, standing from the loveseat. The two of you ride up in silence and wander slowly towards your separate rooms.

WEDNESDAY 12:00AM

“Hey,” Jack says from across the hall, just as you slide your room key into the slot, “something’s been bugging me and I gotta ask…”

You turn to him, eyes wide and expectant, not entirely sure what was about to come out of his mouth but entirely hopeful.

“You didn’t need me telling you how to do a knee reduction,” he says, his back leaning against his door, “did you?”

You stare at him for a moment. He has that stupid, sexy smirk on his face. He already knows the answer. But you’ll say it anyway.

“No,” you breathe, “I didn’t,”

Jack nods.

“We, uh, both should get some rest after today,” he says.

“Ok,” your voice sounds so small, “night Jack,”

“Good night,” he says, backing into his room. You turn into your own room and lean against the closed door. He was going to kiss you, wasn’t he? You were having a moment.

Jack is just starting to unbutton his shirt when there are three sharp knocks at his door. He pulls the door open and there you are, already changed out of your conference clothes, your hair down, wearing a little gray tank top and a pair of matching shorts.

“Hi,” you say, with a sort of firm assuredness in your voice, your eyes big, determined, and twinkling.

“Hi,” he breathes and you step forward, cupping his jaw in your hands, bringing your lips to his in a deep, longing kiss. His arms wrap around your waist, lifting you against him, stepping backwards into his room as the door falls shut. He sets you down gently, pushing you against the door as you push your fingers into his hair, grasping on his soft curls.

Your lips are as soft as he remembers. So is your skin. He slips his hand beneath the hem of your shirt, stroking the smoothness of your waist with his thumb. Heat swells in his chest as you kiss each other desperately. You part your lips and slip your tongue into his mouth and he lets out a little groan. He can taste the syrupy sweet almond from your drink. He wants to consume you, to be consumed by you…

He pulls you from the door and the two of you walk back clumsily towards the bed, both unwilling to stop kissing the other for even a second. You're fumbling with the buttons on his shirt when the backs of his knees hit the edge of the bed. He pulls you into his lap, gripping your waist, and grinding you down onto his already hard cock. You manage to get the buttons undone, bringing your hands back to his face, his stubble prickling under your palm as you lick his cupid’s bow.

The pair of you are already whimpering and moaning into each other, gripping down on the other with aching ferocity. Jack grabs the hem of your tank top, pulling it over your head, bringing his hands up to cup your tits. He kisses down your neck to your chest before sucking one of your nipples into his mouth. He moans against your hard bud, sending a bolt right down to your core as you grind down on him, desperate for a release.

“Jack,” you whine as he switches tits, licking and teasing your nipple, toying with the other between his fingers, “please, I need you,”

His eyes flick up to you, the look of eagerness on your face making his cock twitch. He stands with you in his arms before throwing you onto the bed, your tits bounce as you land and he can’t help but let out a groan. Your breath is labored as you look up at him expectantly.

“You like it when I tell you what to do?” He rasps as he slowly unbuckles his belt. You both know he’s talking about how you’d ask him to talk you through that knee reduction when you were perfectly capable of doing it yourself.

“Yes,” you breathe. There it is, that stupid, sexy smirk on his gorgeous, handsome face.

“Take off your shorts,” he says, eyes dark with lust. You lift your hips, shimmying out of your bottoms which have a noticeable damp spot right between your legs.

“Jesus Christ,” he runs a hand over his face at the sight of you completely naked, “no panties tonight, pretty girl?”

You shake your head, looking up at him through your dark lashes, resting on your elbows. Jack lets out a breath of disbelief. He rests a knee on the bed, grabbing one of your ankles, pulling you a little closer. He leans forward, spitting down onto your clit, a wet pool of his saliva landing on you making you whimper.

“Touch yourself,” he rasps, unbuttoning his slacks, but your staring down between your legs where his spit slowly drips down your slit. God, he wishes he could take a picture of you like this, “come on, gorgeous, play with that pretty pussy for me,”

He sits on the edge of the bed and you finally look up at him, slowly moving your hand between your legs. He feels his heart in his throat. Your fingers touch your clit, already throbbing with anticipation, spreading his spit over yourself.

“Jack,” you whine, rubbing little, wet circles on your bundle of nerves. Any other night you’d be fully invested into his teasing domination but you’ve waited too long. You need him too badly.

“I know, baby,” he turns away from you for a moment, sliding his pants down his legs, pulling the pin on his prosthetic. You keep touching yourself, the sight of his back muscles rippling as he works his leg off making you more slick. He turns towards you, crawling up your body, his hard, pink cock standing against his stomach. You reach towards him desperately, taking his face in your hand, pulling him into a kiss. You reach between your bodies gripping his shaft and shifting your hips up, trying to catch his tip on your entrance.

“We got time pretty girl,” Jack says into your mouth, you can feel him smiling against your lips.

“We can go slow next time,” you whimper, notching his cock into your slick pussy, making him groan and drop his head to your neck, “I need you to fuck me, now,”

Jack has never been good at saying no to you.

“You’re so perfect,” he bends forward, placing a sweet, sloppy kiss on your lips. He slowly rolls his hips, picking his head up to look down at you. Your eyebrows are scrunched, lips parted, blush spreading across your cheeks… it’s an expression of pure pleasure. He stretches you out achingly slow as you try not to squirm beneath him. His face is perfect, mouth hanging open, eyes desperate, breathing heavily. He can’t believe how wet you are. He’s hardly done anything yet.

“Oh my god,” you breathe as he pushes in all the way. Jack’s gasping out groans, his hands gripping your waist so tight his knuckles are turning white. He tucks his face into your neck, whimpering your name, the feeling of you pulsing around him almost too overwhelming. You reach around him, resting your hands on his broad back, running your fingers over the bumps and ridges of his muscles.

“Fuck, you’re so tight,” he moans before slowly pulling back his hips, making you gasp. He presses into you again, slow and hard, stretching you out so good you feel like you’re on fire, warmth already spreading in your stomach.

“Been thinking of fucking you again for so long,” he groans, “wanted more since that first time,” his cock filling you completely, “pussy sweeter than I remembered,”

“Jack,” you whine, “needed you so bad since then-” he thrust inside you hard, making you gasp, losing your words for a moment, “touched myself thinking of you,”

He groans and takes your face in his hands, kissing you like a man desperate to make up for lost time, his mouth slotting against yours perfectly.

“Play with your little pussy thinkin’ of me, pretty girl?” he says into your mouth, feeling the hum of your moan on his lips.

“Every time,” you whimper.

“Yeah, yeah,” Jack grunts, your words, the image they conjure, going right to his cock, “good girl… pictured you every time I fucked my fist,”

The heavy thudding of his cock deep inside you over and over in tandem with his filthy words makes you gasp and whine against his mouth, both of you unable to stop kissing the other. Jack’s hard stomach rubs against your clit with every thrust and you dig your nails into his shoulderblades as you feel your orgasm building. He pulls back from your lips and takes in a sharp breath through his teeth at the painful pleasure of you scratching down his back. His hips rock at a deep and aching pace, but you feel almost frantic in your desire for him and can’t help but want him fast and hard.

“I-” you whimper, trying to articulate your thoughts, the waves of pleasure from his fat cock stretching you out making it hard to form a full thought. You give him the best you’ve got, “more,” you squeak.

“More?” Jack says, cupping your face in his big hand as he looks down at you, entirely endeared by your desperation, “what do you need baby? You need me to fuck you fast and hard?”

“Yeah,” you moan, wrapping your hands around his wrist.

“You’re gonna kill me,” he smiles down at you. He pushes his cock fully inside you making you let out an adorably sexy oh. Jack hooks his arms under your legs, your knees resting in the crook of his elbows. He sneaks his hands behind your back, pulling you to sit up a little. His cock flexes inside you, making you gasp as he arranges you just the way he likes. He gets you up on your elbows, your faces so close together that you can’t help but tilt your chin up for a kiss. Jack lets out a small breath like a laugh at your eagerness.

“Jack,” you say in a whiney huff, “not funny,”

“No baby,” he unhooks one of your knees from his arm and takes your jaw in his hand, giving you a hot, aching kiss sliding his tongue in your mouth, licking up your sweet taste as you moan beneath him. He sucks on your bottom lip before pulling back, “not funny,”

You let out an annoyed little whine, shifting your hips around like will get him to start fucking you, really fucking you, again. As bad as he wants to tease you all night, the way you’re looking at him, the way your pussy is squeezing him, how can he do anything other than exactly what you want?

“So pretty,” Jack whispers almost to himself, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear. He pulls his hips back before snapping them forward, driving his cock into you over and over at a dizzying pace. You snake your hands up and around the back of his neck, gripping down on his curls like he’s your only tether to reality. Your tits bounce with every drive of his pelvis as he pistons his hips, slapping against your ass over and over. The room fills with the sounds of quick smacks and the whimpers and moans that you and Jack make.

“Fuck-” you say, breathy and blissed out, “you feel so good,”

“Show me how you touch yourself when you think of me,” he groans, feeling his orgasm starting to coil tight in his stomach.

“Think of you every time,” you whimper, not having the wherewithal to remember that you had told him that already.

“I know, beautiful,” Jack smirks, as you move your hand down to your clit, making quick circles with your fingers, “you’re so good for me,”

Jack pumps in and out of you, breaking up the noises you make into a rhythmic stuttering of moans, each thrust punctuating the sweet sounds falling from your lips. He rests his forehead against yours, his hips not slowing for a second, your pussy aching at his tireless fucking. Your ass starts to get flushed where his hips smack into you again and again. The pressure in your core is building faster than usual, it feels entirely overwhelming.

“Oh, fuck,” you say, your fingers slow down and you drop your hands to clamp down on the duvet. He keeps fucking his cock into your wet pussy, unable to look away from your face, blush spreading across your cheeks, mouth open as moans, whines, and profanities fall from your lips. Your whole body starts to shake hard, and you tilt your head back onto the mattress, making a sound almost like a cry. A rush of warmth runs down his legs, he looks away from your face to wear he’s filling you up over and over, and sees a wet sheen on his thighs.

“Oh my god,” he groans, “makin’ a fuckin’ mess on my cock- fuck- you’re perfect,”

“Jack,” you squeak out, wrapping your arms around his shoulders, grabbing onto him desperately. You feel the sticky mess you just made but you don’t care. His hips stutter for a second but you notice, “I want you to fill me with you cum,” you whisper into his ear. He lets out a guttural groan at your words.

“Oh fuck-” Jack moans, “I’m gonna come-”

“Fuck your cum in my pussy- please-” you whine, grabbing his face in your hands, pressing your mouths together with devotion in a wet, hot kiss. Jack whimpers your name, moaning against your mouth, his hips spasming, losing his pistoned rhythm as he comes deep inside you. The two of you gasp, holding each other so close it’s hard to catch your breath. He nuzzles his face between your neck and shoulder, placing sweet kisses on your skin.

“Jack,” you say in almost a whisper.

“Mhm, he hums against your throat.

“We’re all wet,” you say and stills for a moment before he pushes himself up on his elbow. You look up at him with a shy smile as he brushes your hair behind your ear.

“That might have been the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen,” he says, his voice low and gravely. You let out a small laugh and tuck your face into his arm, blushing.

“Well, now we have to deal with the ramifications,” you say, sitting up and shifting off of the very large wet spot on the bed. You both just sort of stare at it for a moment before you speak again.

“You wanna come to my room?” You say with a cheeky smile.

The two of you are tucked into your bed after a quick rinse in Jack’s shower. He had so graciously helped you wash off, rubbing the body wash over your soft skin as he sat on the bench, paying particular attention to your tits and ass. You of course returned the favor, running your soapy hands across his broad chest and strong shoulders as he beamed up at you. After running across the hallway giggling like children, you wearing only Jack’s t-shirt, pushing him in his travel wheelchair clad only in his boxers the two of you climbed into your bed.

“You know,” Jack sighs, the pair of you lying on your sides facing each other, “I meant what I said earlier,”

“That I’m a good girl?” You tease, not really sure what he’s talking about. Jack bites back a smile, wrapping his arm around your waist, pulling you flush to him.

“I think you’re perfect,” he says, voice low and tone entirely serious.

“Jack,” you breathe, “I am not perfect,”

“I meant it more like,” he takes in a deep breath, “perfect for me,”

You take in the tiniest breath, lips parted, eyes sparkling with adoration. Heat floods your chest at his words.

“I think you’re perfect for me too,” you whisper, brushing a curl off his forehead, “who knew you were such a romantic?”

“Mhm,” he smiles, “you gonna let me show you?”

10:00AM

Jack wakes up before you, the warm breeze drifts through your open window as sunlight dapples across the room. You’re still firmly wrapped in his arms, tucked underneath his shoulder just how you were last night as the two of you drifted to sleep. You look so precious like this it makes Jack’s heart swell. He’s done wasting time, now that he has you he’s not letting go again. You shift against him as if you’re trying to get yourself closer, he curls his arm tighter around you as you move your hand up his stomach to his chest. Your nose scrunches as you let out a squeaky little moan as you try to wake up.

“Morning beautiful,” Jack says, his voice still hoarse from sleep.

“You’re beautiful,” you groan, pulling yourself up so you’re laying chest to chest, snaking your arms beneath his shoulders.

“Oh yeah?” Jack laughs as you bury your face in his neck.

“Mhm,” you hum and it’s like he can hear you smiling. He runs his fingertips over your back, drawing little shapes across your smooth skin, making you shiver.

“Feel good?” Jack says, moving his hands up and down the column of your spine.

“Mm,” you mumble, “so good,”

Jack presses his nose to your hair, breathing in your sweet, addicting smell. He feels you laugh against him.

“Did you just smell me?” You mutter into his neck and Jack laughs into your hair.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he says. You push yourself up, resting your chin on his chest. Your eyelids are still heavy with sleep, your lips the tiniest bit swollen from kissing last night, you’ve never looked more beautiful.

“Hi,” he says, wrapping his arms around you, rolling you onto your back, making you giggle.

“Hi,” you smile, cupping his cheek, rubbing your thumb across his silver stubble. He leans down and connects your lips in a sleepy kiss. Your palm is warm against his cheek, the tips of your fingers brushing against his curls. Your mouths move slowly against each other as he holds you close, drawing circles on your shoulder blade with his thumb. He pulls back, cupping your face and you nuzzle your cheek into his palm.

“I wish we could stay in bed all day,” he says, stroking your jaw with his thumb.

“And we can’t because…?” you tilt your head, fluttering those damn eyelashes, making Jack’s heart squeeze.

“I told Scott I’d go golfing with him and his buddies at eleven,” Jack sighs with genuine chagrin.

“But you’re terrible at golf,” you giggle and he can’t help himself, taking your chin between his fingers and placing a sweet kiss on your perfect lips.

“I tried to tell him,” he says, running the tip of his nose along the slope of yours.

“No, you should go,” you say, threading your fingers in his hair, “when was the last time you saw him? You get me whenever you want,”

“Yeah?” The corner of Jack’s mouth curls up, his hand sliding up to cup your cheek “whenever I want?”

“Mhm,” you hum with a smile. You lean up, taking his bottom lip between your teeth, pulling him down into another kiss. He sighs into your mouth as you move against each other with slow passion. You lick against his cupid’s bow, slipping your tongue into his mouth, making him groan and pull you tighter against him. The two of you make out lazy and unhurried, like you have all the time in the world, and Jack’s golf outing aside, it seems you do. Jack kisses the corner of your mouth, moving down to your neck, placing hot kisses down your throat.

“Jack,” you sigh as he kisses down your body.

“Mhm?” He mumbles against you, licking and sucking one of your nipples into his mouth.

“You’re gonna be late,” you say as he moves his lips to your other nipple, rolling it around with his tongue, with you trying not to completely fall apart. He’s only barely started to touch you.

“Mhm,” he agrees, kissing down your stomach, settling himself between your legs. He takes your thighs in his hands, pushing them apart, your pussy already glistening for him.

“Don’t you-” you’re cut off by a sharp gasp leaving your throat as Jack licks a long, flat line right up the center of your core. He drags his tongue over you with intention, licking up every drop of your slickness, moaning against you, the vibrations making you squirm. He sucks your clit into his mouth and you arch your back off the bed in eager responsiveness.

The dull thudding in your center shoots all the way down to your toes. You force yourself up to your elbows, and my god it is certainly a sight to see Jack Abbot in between your legs. His dark lashes fan across his freckled cheeks, his curls unkempt from sleep and your activities last night, his big hands squeezing down on your thighs which are hooked over his broad shoulders. His tongue is everywhere as he makes out with your pussy, hot and sloppy and breathless. You let out a little squeaking moan as he swirls his tongue around your clit, pressing down just where you need him.

“Jack,” you whine, slipping your fingers into his salt and pepper hair, pulling lightly on his curls. He hums in contentment, taking greedy swallows of the glisten spreading across your slit. His cock is achingly hard at the taste of you and now that he’s dipped his tongue into your slick sweetness he doesn’t think he’ll ever get enough. He starts fucking his tongue in and out of your hole as you whimper beneath him, thigh squeezing around his head.

“Oh, fuck,” you whimper as he makes slow swirls on your clit, desperate for you to come on his tongue. The way you’re gripping down on his hair, your thighs trembling around his head… he knows you’re right on the edge. He grips down on your hips, lifting your ass clean off the bed, rocking you up and down against his tongue. He flicks his gaze up to you, your eyes squeezed shut, cheeks flushed, your hand on the headboard grabbing it so hard your knuckles are white.

“Jack- I’m-” you tighten your fingers on his curls as sucks on your clit with passionate devotion, “I’m- I’m coming- I-”

Your whole body trembles, hips spasming around his head as Jack continues to make out with your dripping pussy, licking up everything you’re giving him.

“Oh,” you whine, biting down on your finger as you come against Jack’s hot tongue. He holds your hips steady as you try and catch your breath, placing a sweet kiss on the inside of your thigh before slowly kissing back up your body.

“You are the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen,” he mumbles against your neck, making you giggle and blush like a teenager. He takes your jaw in his hand and kisses you softly, the taste of you lingering on his lips as you moan against him. He pulls back, eyes tracing over your face with tender longing. You rest your hand gently on top of his.

“I’ll be right here when you get back,” you say softly.

“I know,” he says.

4:00PM

The open day of the conference is usually reserved for networking, board meetings, editorial board recruitment but you’ve opted to skip that, sitting by the crystal blue pool. Your phone buzzes next to you, you smile before you even reach for it, already knowing who it’s from.

Jack: This is torture.

You: it is not torture

Jack: The golfing part is.

You: can’t you just forfeit or something?

Jack: I can’t be a bad sport.

You: only a secret bad sport?

Jack: Exactly.

You: is it almost done at least?

Jack: We should be back there around five.

You: well…

You: let’s get dinner after, just us :)

Jack: We already have a reservation

You: ???

You: when did you do that??

Jack: I made it before we even got here.

You feel a little blush spread across your cheeks. He had thought of taking you out to dinner without even knowing what would happen between the two of you.

You: this was your plan all along ??

You: you seduced me!

You: on purpose!

Jack: You came to my room last night if memory serves.

You: :O

You: because you seduced me into it

Jack: I did.

This makes you giggle a little. Clearly he’d been wishing for something to happen as badly as you had, only he had the foresight to do something about it.

You: what were you going to do at dinner if we hadn’t gotten together ln?

Jack: ln?

You: last night

Jack: I was going to tell you how I feel about you.

You grin down at your phone, squeezing it so tight it almost slips out of your sunscreen-y hands.

You: how do you feel about me?

Jack: I’m still going to tell you tonight.

You: i hope it’s good

You:🤞🤞🤞

Jack: You’re ridiculous.

Jack: Of course it’s good.

You: i feel good about you too :)

Jack: I’m glad.

Jack: What have you gotten up to today?

You angle your phone above you, snapping a picture of your body clad in a dark cherry swimsuit, skin shining with the glisten of your sunscreen. You know what you’re doing. Your tits are on fully display, your nipples pressing against the fabric, your hips and waist curving perfectly.

You: [Attached: 1 image]

Jack: Jesus Christ.

Jack: I’m forfeiting.

Jack: I’m coming back right now.

You: you didn’t drive

You: scott took you

Jack: Fuck me.

You: later ;)

You: promise

7:00PM

Jack had texted you again close to five, begrudgingly telling you he’d now be back around six. He instructed you to start getting ready and he’ll come get you after he showers and cleans up. You’re standing in your bathroom swiping on lip gloss, you purse your lips looking down your body with a little smirk. You look good. You’re wearing a red and white halter dress and little white sandals, your hair is pulled out of your face in a little slick back bun. You rush to the door when you hear Jack’s three sharp knocks.

“Wow,” he says as you pull the door open. His eyes wander down your body as you blush under his intense gaze. He looks incredibly sexy, he’s wearing a brown and white striped polo and brown slacks.

“Am I allowed to tell you that you look beautiful now?” Jack smirks, his hands in his pockets. You blush, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear and nod. Jack takes a step towards you, crowding into your space. Your eyes are fixed on his lips as he brings his hand up cupping your jaw while the other snakes around your waist, pulling you flush against him while pushing you back into the room. Your hands rest on his biceps as your noses brush together, breathing in each other like it’s the only air in the room.

The door clicks shut and Jack bends into you, closing the gap between your mouths, both of you inhaling sharply at the contact. Jack’s hand is gentle on your cheek, stroking your soft skin beneath his thumb but his other hand snakes down until he’s roughly grabbing a handful of your ass making you moan into his mouth. God, he loves how responsive you are for him.

Jack pulls back and you let out a small huff, instinctively leaning towards him to try and kiss him again. He smiles, holding your face in place with his strong hand.

“As bad as I want to fuck you right now,” he says, hearing yout breath catch in your throat, “you gotta let me take you out on a real date. I’ve wanted it for too long,”

“Oh, so it’s a date now?” You tease but he can see the blush spreading across your cheeks. Jack pinches your ass making you squeal.

“Yeah, it’s a date,” he says, rubbing his hand over your ass where he just nipped you.

The pair of you walk hand in hand to the steak house at the resort, getting sat in a little corner booth. Jack orders a really nice bottle of red that he of course pours for you before filling his own glass. You look radiant in the candlelight of the dining room, Jack has to look away for a moment.

“So,” he says, turning back to you, “Scott told me he made a pass at you the other night,”

“Oh god,” you sigh, rolling your eyes.

“Told me you said you’re not single,” Jack says, his eyes dropping down to your mouth.

“No,” you say, voice low.

“No you're not single?” Jack looks at you through his dark lashes.

“Not for him,” you say, leaning forward, brushing your lips against his. Jack lets out a sharp breath against your mouth which you catch with a kiss, soft and intentional. He feels like the air has been punched out of his chest.

“I’m waiting for someone to tell me how he feels about me,” you smile. Jack mirrors your smile, soft and earnest. He says your name, low and raspy, taking your hands in his, you can feel how his palms are a little clammy.

“You are… one of a kind,” he says, “you’re brilliant, you’re beautiful, selfless, funny, honest, curious,” your heart is squeezing at his sweetness, “you’re the most stubborn person I know,” you laugh, feeling the blush spread over your cheeks, “I love how stubborn you are, you’re- you’re so steady in your purpose and you never give up even when everyone around you has. You’re my favorite part of work, you’re such a fucking good doctor… you just… you make everything better…”

“Jack,” you say, voice soft, tears of happiness welling in your eyes. You take his face in your hands and place a tender kiss on his lips. You pull back, your foreheads resting against each other’s, stroking the stubble on his jaw.

“Be with me,” Jack whispers.

“Yes,” you say back before kissing him again, soft and sweet.

THURSDAY 9:00PM

The next day the two of you went to various talks on opioids, sepsis, and pediatric emergencies, sneaking glances and touches throughout the day. At noon Jack dragged you back to his room and had you for lunch. The two of you are deliriously giddy. Now, in the darkness of the night you and Jack are walking towards the pool. Jack insisted that the two of you go swimming after you sent him that picture while he was golfing. The blue water is lit up, reflecting teal ripples over you both. Jack dips the toe of his prosthetic into the pool.

“God, it’s freezing,” he says and you roll your eyes.

“You’re not funny,” you say but you can’t help the smile that spreads across your face.

You pull your white cover up over your head and Jack feels his throat tighten a little. You have on a burgundy one piece, the front cutting low to your sternum. You turn towards him letting out a little giggle at his ogling.

“You’re so gorgeous,” Jack says, grabbing your hips, dropping his lips to your neck.

You make him sit at the edge of the empty pool, taking off his prosthetic for him and placing it carefully on a chair before he turns, dropping his foot in the pool before sliding into the crystal water. You jump in after him, the pair of you swimming around like children, splashing and chasing each other until you both get tired.

Now, the pair of you float towards the shallow end, Jack holding you firmly in his arms, your legs wrapping around his waist.

“I feel kinda bad…” you say, breaking the quiet.

“About what?” Jack furrows his eyebrows.

“I don’t know, it’s dumb” you shrug. He squeezes down on your hips gently.

“Tell me,” he says softly.

“I just feel like- we’re using the hospital's money for this and it’s kind of just… it just feels more like a vacation with you than a work trip.” you say, twisting your fingers into the wet curls on the back of his neck.

“Which, don’t get me wrong…” you smile, leaning forward, brushing your lips against his, “I’m very much enjoying,” you say against his mouth, giving him a small kiss before pulling back, a small crease forming between your eyebrows, “but didn’t the hospital need the money for… I don’t know… paying nurses overtime? Or something for the greater good? I feel kind of like an asshole for taking it.”

Jack swallows. He knew he’d have to tell you about paying for the entire trip himself eventually. He hated that he lied to you… but he hates that you feel bad more.

“I need to tell you something about that,” Jack says, tightening his grip on you almost instinctually, like he’s scared you’re gonna pull away, “and it might make you upset,”

“Ok,” you say, your voice sounding terribly small.

“We didn’t take money from the hospital,” he says. Your brows furrow not in anger but genuine confusion.

“We didn’t take money from the hospital for what?” You ask. You unwrap your legs from around his waist, standing, and his heart twists a little… but you’re still pressed against him, still with your arms around his neck, that makes him feel a little better.

“For this trip,” he says, eyes scanning your face, “Gloria wouldn’t give me the money,”

“The hospital didn’t pay for this,” you say, trying to make sure you understand.

“No, they didn’t,” Jack says. He feels like he’s watching the pieces click together in your head.

“You did,” you say. Your arms slide off his shoulder and you take a step back.

“I did,” he says, the skin where your arms had just been resting feels raw and cold.

“You paid,” you confirm.

“I paid,” he nods.

“And you didn’t tell me,” you say, a twinkle of sadness in your eyes.

“No,” he says, shame burning in his chest.

“Why?” You breathe.

“I didn’t want you to pass on this opportunity because of money,” Jack says, “you deserved to come here. I could pay, so I did,”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” You ask.

“I thought you’d say no,” Jack murmurs.

“Well,” you huff a little sigh, “you’re right,”

“I’m sorry,” he pleads, “I really am. I let my feelings for you cloud my judgement. I can’t- I can’t even make the excuse that I would have done it for any of the other residents because I wouldn’t. You’re special- you’re so special to me. I’m so sorry I lied to you- I-”

Jack is cut off by your mouth on his. One of your hands is on his cheek, the other tangling into his wet curls. He wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you flush against him, right where you belong. Your lips move against his with aching slowness. After a moment you pull back, breathless.

“Do not lie to me again,” you say, looking at him with conviction.

“Never,” he says, running his hands up and down your back. You soften under his touch.

“I’m not-” you sigh, “I’m not always good at letting people take care of me,”

“I know,” he says, voice sweet and soft, “I didn’t want to scare you off with a corny, grand romantic gesture. I know you prefer a more intimate moment,”

You take in a tiny breath, your mind flickering back to that night your ex came to the hospital, swinging back into your life like a wrecking ball. You had told Jack you didn’t like overblown romantic overtures. And he remembered and took it to heart. Sort of.

“Forgive me?” he says, eyes filled with warmth.

“I’ll forgive you,” you place a small kiss on his lips, “but you have to tell me how much,”

“How much?” He furrows his brow.

“How much this cost you,” you say. Jack tilts his head to the side in a silent protest but you nod, prompting him to tell you. He sighs.

“Something like ten thousand,” he says. Your mouth drops open.

“Ten thousand,” you repeat.

“Yes,” he nods.

“Dollars?” You say, your voice pitching up with disbelief.

“Yes,” he confirms. You breathe out a laugh.

“Jack,” you shake your head but you can’t hide your smile, “that’s insane,”

“It’s just money,” he shrugs.

“You have to let me pay some of it back,” you say. He clicks his tongue in disapproval.

“No,” he says. As you open your mouth to protest again Jack brings up his hand, clamping over your lips, “no,” he repeats, “nod if you understand.” You furrow your brows in frustration but he knows you’re not really angry, then you slowly nod your head up and down. Jack moves his hand to cup your cheek.

“Do not make this a habit,” you say, poking his chest.

“First and last time,” Jack says.

SATURDAY 10:00PM

You’re asleep on Jack’s shoulder. The plane is cold so you’d snuggled up against him and fallen asleep shortly after take off. Now, you’ve got his arm around you and his jacket draped over you, exactly where he wants you to be. He had tried to convince you to blow the rest of the conference off on Friday, citing the fact that you’re not even here on PTMC’s dime. But you had countered with the idea that this conference was even more precious now, knowing that you were here using Jack’s hard earned cash. He begrudgingly agreed even though he’d much rather spend the day on the beach with you than in a stuffy conference room with you.

The truth that you both knew was he’d be happiest wherever you were, so you spend the day listening to talks on emergency ENT challenges, head CTs, and EKGs. You certainly didn’t forget to thank Jack for his generosity, pulling him into a tucked away meeting room and getting on your knees. The way you sucked and choked and gagged on his cock truly had him believing that the stupid lectures were a better way to spend the day. Especially after he came in your mouth and you stuck out your tongue, showing his creamy cum as it dripped onto your bottom lip before you swallowed every drop.

Missing out on the beach didn’t matter. He would take you back. He would take you anywhere you wanted to go so long as he got to go with you. The pair of you had stayed up late Friday night, tucked into bed and holding each other, talking about what your plan would be once you got back to Pittsburgh. You flirted with the idea of telling no one. You both knew that there was definitely a betting pool going on in your absence, hell, there was probably one going on while you were still there. Jack had confessed that this plan might not work because he panic-texted Dana to ask if you were single. You only laughed at this, kissing the corner of his mouth, enchanted by his sweetness.

Jack had clearly been leaning towards a hard launch, suggesting a plan of kissing in the middle of the hub during shift change like it was no big deal. You strongly opposed at first saying I can’t make out with you in front of Robby, that’s so weird, it would be like my dad was watching. This got a laugh from Jack who clarified he didn’t plan on frenching you at the nurses station, just a sweet little kiss. Like this, he’d said, gently pressing his lips to yours for three seconds. Show me again, you said, and he smiled before obliging you with another tender kiss.

The two of you didn’t come up with a firm plan, partially because you got a little distracted after Jack’s kiss demonstration and it quickly devolved into you bouncing on his cock, whimpering above him while he sucked on one of your nipples, rolling around the other one with his fingers. Jack got his wish of getting to tease and milk every orgasm out of you he could manage. He fucked you on his fingers, on his tongue, a combination of both, the pair of you stopped counting after you’d came seven times. He became almost insufferably cocky after he made you squirt again so you made him sit in a chair at the end of the bed and watch you as you fingered yourself, moaning and whimpering his name, whining how his fingers stretched you out so much better. He couldn’t resist and fucked you again.

So, there was no plan. Jack didn’t really care. He didn’t need a plan as long as he had you.

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