Xeno

As they’d watch you raise a brow at Brendon before huffing a quiet, “Don’t be such an arrogant asshole”

Only to see you send him a wink before he’d leave. 

Watching how his eyes would soften at the sight of you. 

It had all begun to make sense now. As those in the Pitt would pick on the little things. 

The little facts that alluded to your connection with Brendon. To the point they couldn’t believe how they were so blind to your relationship.  

How you’d never speak badly of him when he wasn’t around. 

How he’d check in with you every now and again. 

How your exact coffee order would appear just when you needed it. 

By all accounts you were overjoyed and so completely fulfilled by your home life. 

It simply left your coworkers wondering…

How did you manage to make Park the Shark so soft hearted for you...and why?

Whilst going over some notes, sipping on your coffee, Santos had wandered up to you. Leaning upon the desk as she peered at you. 

Those passing, stop by as they hear the question leave her lips.

Curiosity getting the better of them. 

“So…why Shark?” 

You glanced up at her, arching your brow in question. A little taken aback to see Santos, Javadi, Mohan and Whitaker all looking at you. 

“Uh–”

“Yeah,” Javadi nods, before asking, “If he’s so considerate why do you fight with him during consults?” before muttering, “Not that we blame you for that…”

You let out a soft laugh. 

Ever since the revelation you had been fielding questions like these. 

Left and right. 

“Well–that’s just kind of the way our relationship started back in college…” you had said. A soft smile gracing your features as you get taken in by the memory of how you had first met. 

…

Brendon Park wasn’t smooth by any means. 

In fact, when you had first met him. 

He was all jagged edges and rough remarks. 

You had only known him through word of mouth, through mutual friends, using the term friend loosely. You had crossed over a few times through shared classes. 

But had never once had a conversation with him. 

Always trying to be the best. 

Always with something to prove. 

Keeping everyone at an arms length, at a distance. 

Due to his drive to be the best. He failed to remember to be nice. 

He saw no benefit to it unless it was being nice to the professors and demonstrators.

But even that didn’t save them from his steely gaze at times. 

Most conversations that revolved around him wouldn’t go any further than simply describing Park as cold blooded. 

Ruthless. 

Blunt. 

Earning him the name Shark. 

A name that would stick with him through the years. 

And in the midst of med school. You did not have the time or energy to put up with his bullshit. 

Never once thinking meeting him would lead you to the life you had now. 

If someone had told you years ago. 

That the man you had called an arrogant asshole upon your first meeting just before being forced to work together on a project. 

You would’ve brushed them off. 

You would’ve told them they had to be fucking lying. 

That there would be no way in hell you’d ever be with a guy like Brendon…

Disgruntled as you worked alongside him. How he’d be curt in his responses. Clipped. Brusque. 

But little by little you had chipped away at his steely facade. 

The way you’d make little jokes, for no one's benefit but your own. 

Little references slipping into the conversation, even if he didn’t understand them, you’d simply laugh at your own words. Amused as a smile would form on your features. 

How you were so unapologetically you. 

Fearless. 

Smart. 

Funny. 

And beautiful. 

I can't stop this feeling Deep inside of me Girl, you just don't realize What you do to me

Whatever it was. 

You had made his head spin. Had made him crave your company. 

You had him hooked. 

To the point that Brendon. 

Who usually had nerves of steel, were now as brittle as the bones he was aspiring to fix. 

Had asked you out once the project was completed. 

Not ready for his time with you to be over.

Hopeful. Watching you. Waiting for what was to come. 

…only for you to squander it, not cruelly. Not in any way menacing. 

Just a plain and simple turn down. 

Stating that. His cold nature was something you couldn’t imagine being with. 

And instead of pestering you. 

Instead of insisting it wouldn’t be an issue. 

He had taken it well. 

…

“You rejected Park?” Mohan asked. The others hang onto your every word. As more and more began to listen in. 

“Well, yeah–he was kind of a douche back then–” you shrugged. 

Santos scoffed, sharing a look with Whitaker before meeting your eye once more, “Back then?” 

“Trust me, the way Brendon is now is nothing compared to the way he used to be,” You huff out a small laugh. 

Knowing full well he only kept up the clipped facade when coming down, a running gag that had circulated amongst those from the surgical department. 

Simply enjoying poking a little fun at those in the ED. 

Knowing full well that within the OR, Brendon was professional as can be. Was thoughtful and never once demeaning with his immediate colleagues. 

“Anyway–he took what I said seriously…” you continued your story. 

…

Had instead taken your words to heart. 

Had taken what you said. 

And channeled that into being better. Into recognising his own patterns. Into noticing how his brash behaviour was hurting his own life. Was stalling him from achieving. 

In trying to be the best, he failed to be good. 

This wasn’t to say he was instantly nicer. Instantly the friendly easy going guy. He was simply trying to be better. 

Life had carried on. Assessments came and went. Coffees guzzled to try and pull through those all nighters. Hours poured over studying. 

When one evening, while Brendon had been walking home after picking up a pizza, ready to get stuck into studying once more. 

He had stopped short. 

Catching a glimpse of you seated beneath the moonlight. Your face turned up to the sky, eyes shut as you breathed in the crisp cool night air. 

Usually Brendon wouldn’t fuss. 

Wouldn’t think anything of it. Would simply keep walking, mind his own business…

But for some reason. 

As though pulled by the magnetism of you. 

His feet moved. Until stopping before you. 

“Do you mind if I sit?” his voice deep, rounded off with a slight hesitance. 

Blinking as you met his eye, head tilted in question. 

And for whatever reason.

One Brendon wasn’t willing to question. 

You nodded wordlessly, shuffling over slightly to let him sit next to you. 

Any sense of arrogance had long since melted from his demeanour. Something you had noticed over the weeks. 

How he had tried to be better around his peers. Actively learning instead of ridiculing – unless he was toe-to-toe with an absolute idiot. 

You had noticed it all. 

And maybe that was why, as he opened the box of pizza, asking so gently “Do you want some?” Not expecting anything in return. 

Maybe that was why you hadn’t stormed away. 

Why you had instead stayed seated beside him. 

Talking mindlessly. 

About anything and everything that crossed your minds. 

Just letting the hours pass by in your company. 

A friendship had begun. 

Whilst you wagged a finger in his face, half heartedly joking, “Now don’t go catching feelings for me” 

…Not for one moment thinking that it would be you who would be catching feelings for him…

Soon those jokes you used to make for your own amusements now managed to make a laugh rumble from within his chest. 

With evenings spent studying together, soon shifting to binge nights as you made him sit through your favourite films, even if they were random animated children's films Brendon wouldn't have as his first pick.

Like why was there a movie about a fish pretending he kills sharks? and what is with the Mafia shark mob?...

You had made him watch through your treasured box sets. And he watched happily beside you.

Brendon might not have understood it all. But he enjoyed it nonetheless.

Soon he began to understand the references you made. 

Beginning to make his own. 

Just to feel a warmth bloom in his chest from the sight of your smile. 

In shared classes you’d both begun to save a seat for the other. 

During those early morning lectures he would be in the prime spot, with your exact coffee order waiting for you. 

A gesture he brushed off as the least he could do. 

How the gentle brush of his fingers against yours whilst he passed the coffee to you would send sparks through you. 

Yes. 

It was true. 

That the very person you had once deemed as an arrogant asshole upon your first meeting. Was now etching himself into your heart.  

Growing closer and closer with you, revealing the most intimate details of his life. Why he felt like he had so much to prove. Why he felt the need to keep everyone at arm’s length. 

He let down his guard. 

Letting you see a side to him that was vulnerable and open.

It was a true privilege.

Being able to be his safe space. 

With his step into being vulnerable, he had made you feel comfortable to let down your walls. Had made you feel supported. And never judged. 

…

“So did he ask you out again?” Javadi interrupted. 

Whilst Santos groaned, “Let her talk–”

You chuckled slightly, amused by their deep intrigue. 

“Neither of us really knew where to go from there–I had already clearly stated that I wasn’t interested. So he didn’t want to ask me in case it came off as pressuring, and I can be very stubborn. Especially back then. So we were at a bit of a stand off.”

“So then what happened?” Whitaker probed. Fully enthralled by your story. 

“It had all changed when we went to this party…” 

…

You can’t say that a college party was something you loved going to. 

In houses too small, with far too many people. 

Cheap perfume in the air, swirled into the scent of beer and the heat from moving bodies. 

All conversation drowned beneath the loud beating music. 

Your senses flooded by the sheer overwhelming amount of things happening around you. 

It was safe to say you preferred a nice night in, curled up onto the couch with whatever show you were fixated on at the time playing on tv. 

But your friends had insisted you come. 

And in turn you had insisted on dragging Brendon to the party. 

Leading to you, nursing a red cup filled with whatever beer Brendon had managed to snag for you. Just trying not to throw it up with each sip. 

Friends now lost in the crowd. 

Lights dim as brightly coloured flashes strobe around the room. 

You stand beside him, making little jokes as you people watch those around you. 

“Didn’t realise Scotty was such a fan of Irish river dancing,” he joked, voice low, eyes scanning the crowd to point out things he thought you’d find funny. 

The alcohol makes your laughs louder, makes your smile wider. 

And makes your eyes wander. 

Tracing the features of Brendon’s face. 

Was he always this handsome…

Noticing the sharpness of his jaw. 

The clarity of his blue eyes. 

The fluffiness of his hair atop his head. 

…so fluffy you just wanted to reach out and card your fingers through those brown locks–

“Heyyy, Y/N” 

Your attention was snapped away from admiring Brendon. 

“You’re-you’re looking good tonight”

Adam, you think his name was–you couldn’t quite remember. Maybe it was Alan? Whatever, this guy you think you shared a physiology class with had sauntered up to you. Pretty sure that his name was Adam. 

His eyes scan you from head to toe. With a small lick of his lips. Wolfish smile upon his lips.

His intentions, well and truly out there plain to see. 

Brendon had tensed up beside you. 

Whilst you looked at the guy expectantly. Unamused, brows settling into knitted confusion, “Can I help you?” 

Tone so uninterested. 

You might as well have said, fuck off. 

“Why’re you hanging out with this asshole?” he had jabbed a finger to Brendon’s chest, “I can show you a better time–might even make your pretty face smile”

He had grinned so widely, words slurring at the edges. With a confidence he had no right to possess. 

Brendon had raised a brow. 

It took everything within him to not simply slap the guy’s hand away. To not rip into him and bite back. 

But he clenched his fist, he buried his discontent. 

Eyes flickering down to you. 

Not once anticipating your next move. 

Shoving your cup into Brendon’s hand, you stalked up to the guy, jabbing a finger to his chest. Your words punctuated with each jab. 

“Watch what you say you shithead,” you said sharply.

As the guy practically growled beneath your comments. 

…

“You didn’t!?” Santos said in utter shock. 

Whilst you nod with slight smug satisfaction, “Oh yes I did” 

“He sounds like an asshole,” she added. 

“He was,” you agreed, before saying, “Now where was I?...”

“The guy was totally about to do something he’d regret,” Dana offered, passing by, without looking up from what she was doing. 

Amused by your story, even if it wasn’t the first time he had heard it, it never failed to make her grin. 

Snapping your fingers, “That’s right, he called me a–”

…

“Fucking bitch–I’m just saying you could do better than Shark–all he fucking does is brood–”

You shove him back, anger bubbling through you, unable to keep a lid on it as the cheap beer weakens your inhibitions. 

“He’s a lot fucking nicer than you!” You retaliated. 

And just as you’re about ready to throw hands with the guy, Brendon’s strong arms curl around you, pulling you away, while others hold back the other guy. 

You struggle against his grasp, shouting over your shoulder back to the asshole. 

More than ready to finish the fight that had begun to brew. 

Senses coming to a shock as the muggy evening air envelopes you. The sense that summer was beginning to set in. The way Brendon’s arms hold you so completely. 

So assuringly. 

Calming your senses. The rushing of anger coursing through your blood now fading, morphing into something different. 

Something you had worked so hard to ignore over the past few weeks.  

When you hold me In your arms so tight You let me know Everything's alright

Brendon’s hands shift, letting you go slightly only to clasp your shoulders, ducking slightly to meet your eyes. 

“Okay, calm down spitfire,” he said soothingly, not condescendingly, just steady. Before asking, “You okay?” 

Eyes softening as he gazes at you. Concern filtering into his features. 

Nerves set on fire. Fizzling beneath your skin. 

Whether that was from the adrenaline from being about 2 seconds from punching the other guy. 

From the alcohol in your system. 

Or from the way that with one look from Brendon had made you feel so lightheaded and dizzy. 

For any number of reasons you had leaned in. Eyes fluttering shut as your lips collided with his. Noses bumping slightly. 

His eyes widening for just a fraction. 

You had caught him off guard. 

Completely stunned by your action. 

And before you could pull away, his hands drifted to cup your cheek, whilst the other traced around to the small of your back, pulling you closer to him. His eyes closing as he soaks in the feel of you. 

The scent of him invading your senses, subtle and yet so addicting. 

The slight saltiness of his lips. 

Your hands shifting to reach around his neck, threading through the hairs on the nape of his neck. Just as soft as you had imagined.

Finally acting on the impulse you had pushed aside. 

Finally acting on the desire to kiss him. To cross that line between friendship and the something more you were craving from him.   

I'm hooked on a feeling I'm high on believing That you're in love with me

Pulling away breathless. 

Barely parted, mere inches from each other’s face, your eyes peered into his. 

“I think I’ll take up the offer on a date if it still stands?” you asked cheekily, a glint in your eye. 

While a smile curled at his lips, pressing a soft kiss to the soft skin of your cheeks, huskily mumbling with such revere, “The offer never left” 

…

“...And that was how Brendon and I got together,” you said with satisfaction. 

“I did not expect that,” Javadi stated, eyes wide. 

All of their mouths agape. 

Stunned. 

Mohan furrowed her brow, “You mean to tell me that you rejected him only to become friends with him and then practically get into a fist fight over him?”

“Uh yeah–but I like the way I tell the story just a bit better,” you remarked with a smile. 

Langdon comments, “I would never have imagined it was you with the short temper”

Throwing your hands up in slight defense, “Hey, you know. Nobody’s perfect. And if I can add that that guy definitely had it coming” 

Before they can dig any further you’re all pulled away as Robby stops to stand by you, sending everyone a raised brow, a silent question as to what they were all doing. 

Causing them to disperse immediately beneath his gaze. 

Before he turns his eyes to you. 

“What did you do to make practically the entire ER stop?” he asked, a slight twitch at the corners of his lips. 

Shrugging, with a grin you replied, “Just told them how I met Brendon.”

He clicks his tongue in understanding, “Ah yes. How you called him an asshole upon first meeting?”

Nodding you tidied up the notes, averting your gaze. 

“And did you mention why you called him an asshole?” he asked pointedly. 

Feigning ignorance your replied, “I don’t know what you’re talking about”

“I distinctly remember Park telling me that you had called him an arrogant asshole because you had rounded the corner only to bump into him spilling coffee all over yourself” 

You bit the inside of your cheek. 

“And that you practically seethed at him…even if it wasn’t really his fault”

Not once meeting his eyes. 

“Did you happen to say that?” 

“What they don’t know won’t hurt them,” you retorted. 

“Right,” he nodded in false agreement. 

Whilst you claimed, finally looking up at him, “If you’d have been there you would know that it was his fault”

He huffed out a laugh with a shake of his head, “And you called him the asshole”

You sighed, muttering lowly, “Fucking liar”

Before shooting him a glare, “Don’t even think about telling the others–if you do, then you’re not invited to the next barbecue we host,” you threatened. 

“Oh, I’m so scared,” he mocks lightly. 

“Fine, your loss,” you said innocently, “I’ll just have to tell the kids that Uncle Robby just didn’t want to see them.”

“You wouldn’t”

“Oh yes I fucking would,” you smirked. Full well knowing that you had won. 

“This ain’t over,” he says pointedly before walking away. 

With a satisfied grin, “I think it is” 

Dana stops to stand by you with a knowing look, “You wouldn’t do that”

Laughing lightly, you whisper to her, “Yeah, I wouldn’t. But Robby doesn’t know that”

She shakes her head with a laugh, before patting your shoulder. 

Smiling softly, you went back to work. Comforted by the memory of how you met your now husband. 

It may have been a rough start. 

But with time it had completely softened and settled into a peaceful comfort. 

Like a sharp piece of glass, with pointy edges and rough surfaces, dropped in the midst of the ocean, as the waves rolled over it, as time passed, it had polished over time. 

Before becoming a piece of sea glass so smooth it would make anyone look at it in awe of its glinting beauty. 

That was the way yours and Brendon’s relationship was. 

You had made it through life’s toughest problems. And had come out stronger together. 

As Brendon stops by at the end of your shift, his hand instantly grasps at your bag shedding its weight from your shoulders, while his other hand moves to hold yours, lifting it to his lips with a gentle kiss. 

Your heart melted once more by his thoughtfulness. 

His consideration and kindness. 

All reserved for you. 

And the three little sweethearts waiting for you both at home. 

Wrapped up in a mass of hugs and happy hellos, whilst Brendon lifts both Frankie and Finn, bright giggles ringing out in the house. 

While you wrap up Lenny in your arms. 

How serious Brendon took the bedtime routine. Making sure each of your kids were doted over and given his full attention. 

That they knew how loved they were. 

Reading them a bed time story before tucking them into bed, as you both press a goodnight kiss to their foreheads. Murmuring softly as you wish them pleasant dreams. 

And as the quiet of the night would embrace you both, Brendon would sigh, arms curling around you pressing sweet kisses to your face. Sighing as he breathed you in. 

Having missed you. 

Even if you had only been apart for a day. 

He always longed to have you close, to only be within arm’s reach of you, just so that he could show you just how much he loved you.

Because his love for you was endless. As deep as the sea. 

And so unbelievably grateful that you had given him a second chance all those years ago.

Now in a home so filled with love, laughter and joy. 

Neither of you could fathom that it had all begun by you calling him an arrogant asshole…

An arrogant asshole who had become the love of your life.

It was funny the way things worked out. 

And you wouldn’t have it any other way.

…

Well, not exactly. 

You might’ve enjoyed landing at least one hit on Adam. 

But everything else. 

You wouldn’t change a single thing.

Park the Shark, well and truly had your heart.

Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoyed. It was super fun exploring more for these two!! (I am now inspired to possibly write a third part, going a little more into Brendon being a good dad to his trio of kids - definitely picturing playing tea party vibes) I just loved the idea of it sort of being enemies to friends to lovers just ughhh!! (Dana and Robby have totally heard this story before and they find it amusing each and every time) loved writing this one so I hope you enjoyed! (May or may not have had hooked on a feeling stuck in my brain whilst writing🫠) Let me know what you think! ✨ Comments, Reblogs and Likes are welcomed and appreciated 💕 Feel free to check out my Pitt Masterlist here!

𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐨𝐬 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘬 𝘪𝘴 𝘴𝘶𝘤𝘩 𝘢 𝘴𝘪𝘮𝘱 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘶

-> 𝐮𝐫.𝐟𝐚𝐯.𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐤 𝘩𝘦 𝘣𝘦𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘣𝘦😼 @𝘵𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘴𝘢𝘯𝘵𝘰𝘴

𝐛.𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐤 𝘴𝘰 𝘧𝘶𝘤𝘬𝘪𝘯 𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘥 𝘰𝘧 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘴𝘸𝘦𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘵 ❤️❤️❤️

𝐞𝐦.𝐰𝐚𝐥𝐬𝐡 𝘺𝘰𝘶’𝘳𝘦 𝘣𝘦𝘳𝘳𝘺 𝘤𝘶𝘵𝘦 𝘮𝘳𝘴. 𝘴𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘬😻

-> 𝐮𝐫.𝐟𝐚𝐯.𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐤 𝘯𝘰 𝘦𝘮𝘮𝘺 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵’𝘴 𝘶 😽 @𝘦𝘮.𝘸𝘢𝘭𝘴𝘩

𝐯𝐣𝐚𝐯𝐚𝐝𝐢 𝘐𝘔 𝘖𝘕 𝘔𝘠 𝘞𝘈𝘠𝘠𝘠

_________________________________________________

_________________________________________________

𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦𝘥 𝘣𝘺 𝐦𝐞𝐥.𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐢𝐭𝐬𝐝𝐚𝐧𝐚𝐞𝐯𝐚𝐧𝐬, 𝐜𝐚𝐬𝐬𝐦𝐜𝐤𝐚𝐲, 𝐮𝐫.𝐟𝐚𝐯.𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐤, 𝐝𝐫_𝐫𝐨𝐛𝐛𝐲, 𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐨𝐨𝐨.𝐝, 𝐲_𝐠𝐚𝐫𝐜𝐢𝐚 & 𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘴

𝐯𝐣𝐚𝐯𝐚𝐝𝐢 𝘵𝘰𝘥𝘢𝘺’𝘴 𝘰𝘶𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘧𝘵. 𝘺𝘶𝘮𝘮𝘺 𝘵𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘵𝘴 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 @𝘶𝘳.𝘧𝘢𝘷.𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘬 𝘈𝘈𝘈𝘈𝘎𝘏 𝘎𝘖 𝘚𝘌𝘌 𝘏𝘌𝘙🤩🌼🧁 #𝘱𝘣𝘶𝘳𝘨𝘩𝘧𝘢𝘳𝘮𝘦𝘳𝘴𝘮𝘢𝘳𝘬𝘦𝘵

. . . .

𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐨𝐬 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘣𝘦𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘨𝘰𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘯 𝘮𝘦 𝘢 𝘣𝘰𝘹 𝘵𝘰𝘰 𝘷𝘪𝘤

-> 𝐯𝐣𝐚𝐯𝐚𝐝𝐢 𝘪 𝘨𝘰𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘢 𝘧𝘦𝘸 𝘱𝘪𝘦𝘤𝘦𝘴 @𝘵𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘴𝘢𝘯𝘵𝘰𝘴

-> 𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐨𝐬 𝘴𝘰𝘰𝘰 𝘣𝘢𝘴𝘪𝘤𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘩𝘰𝘭𝘦 𝘣𝘰𝘹 @𝘷𝘫𝘢𝘷𝘢𝘥𝘪

𝐮𝐫.𝐟𝐚𝐯.𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐤 𝘪𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘴𝘰 𝘯𝘪𝘤𝘦 𝘮𝘦𝘦𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘷𝘪𝘤𝘵𝘰𝘳𝘪𝘢 🫶🏼

-> 𝐯𝐣𝐚𝐯𝐚𝐝𝐢 𝘺𝘰𝘶’𝘳𝘦 𝘭𝘪𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘣𝘦𝘴𝘵 💅🏽 @𝘶𝘳.𝘧𝘢𝘷.𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘬

𝐝𝐞𝐧𝐧𝐲_𝐰 𝘧𝘰𝘮𝘰 𝘪𝘴 𝘴𝘰 𝘧𝘶𝘤𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘭😿

𝐜𝐚𝐬𝐬𝐦𝐜𝐤𝐚𝐲 𝘞𝘏𝘈𝘛 𝘉𝘖𝘖𝘛𝘏 𝘐𝘚 𝘏𝘌𝘙𝘚? 𝘐 𝘕𝘌𝘌𝘋 2 𝘒𝘕𝘖𝘞

𝐦𝐞𝐥.𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘴𝘰 𝘧𝘶𝘯 𝘵𝘰𝘥𝘢𝘺!!😊

-> 𝐯𝐣𝐚𝐯𝐚𝐝𝐢 𝘣𝘦𝘴𝘵 𝘧𝘢𝘳𝘮𝘦𝘳’𝘴 𝘮𝘢𝘳𝘬𝘦𝘵 𝘣𝘶𝘥𝘥𝘺 😝 @𝘮𝘦𝘭.𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨

𝐬𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐫𝐚𝐦𝐨𝐡𝐚𝐧 𝘪 𝘤𝘢𝘯’𝘵 𝘣𝘦𝘭𝘪𝘦𝘷𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘥𝘪𝘥𝘯’𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘮𝘦 𝘶𝘱 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘶 𝘵𝘳𝘢𝘪𝘵𝘰𝘳

-> 𝐯𝐣𝐚𝐯𝐚𝐝𝐢 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘥𝘪𝘥 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘥𝘪𝘦? @𝘴𝘢𝘮𝘪𝘳𝘢𝘮𝘰𝘩𝘢𝘯

_________________________________________________

Your day goes by in a haze. Work was the same as always but you’re distracted.

You’ve been distracted a lot recently.

The last few months have felt heavy. Not only has work been overwhelming but your husband, Brendon, well, that’s been the heaviest part.

Between both of your jobs becoming busier, you both haven’t had much time together.

You both used to have ample time in a week to meet up for lunch, go explore downtown, go out to dinners, have date nights, and everything in between. But lately these things have become dry, especially in the bedroom. 

During your five years of marriage, this has never been a problem. Not to this extent.

You didn’t think much of it until it had stopped completely. Some days you were too tired or other days Brendon was tired too or busy working and not home as much. 

The few times you had been eager to be under him, it never made it past a heavy makeout and some groping. 

You acknowledged it had been a combination of you both not being up to it but then your mind began to wander.

Recently you had been trying to get things back to how they were only to have your advances turned down. Brendon either acted oblivious, was asleep before anything happened or ended up working late.

You thought it had been a mutual disinterest at the time but now?

 You’re not so sure.

Was it you?

Maybe he was bored of you?

He did spend a lot of time at the hospital these last few months. And again you guys hadn't had sex in maybe a month or two?

No, no Brendon wouldn’t do that.

Right?

Maybe you could really initiate it. Buy new lingerie, get your nails and hair done.

That could work.

Hopefully it did.

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

The next day is your day off and you decide to put your plan into action.

You get your hair refreshed and styled first. Then you go to the nail salon and pick out his favorite color.

Perfect.

Your last stop was a lavish lingerie store in downtown Pittsburgh. The selection was a bit overwhelming but then you find a winning piece.

It accentuated your breasts and made your ass look fantastic. A bonus was that it matched the color of your nails.

He wouldn’t be able to resist.

Once you’re home you fix your hair a bit and apply a light makeup before changing into the lacy material.

—-

About thirty minutes later you hear the front door unlock from your spot on the bed. You adjust your hair and sit on the edge of the bed, leaning back on your hands.

Heavy footsteps make their way down the hall towards the bedroom.

Brendon steps through the doorway, scrubs in disarray and a slight frown on his face.

“Hey baby” you say gently.

He briefly looks up as he drops his bag by the dresser.

“Hey.”

You’re taken back a bit.

Hey?

Just hey?

You knew things had been a bit rough these last few months but this is the most distant he's ever seemed.

Like he just acknowledged a roommate and not his wife.

You don’t let the dry greeting deter you.

You stand up and walk up to him.

Running your hand up his bicep and the other up on his shoulder.

“Everything okay Bren?”

He huffs a bit sarcastically “Is it ever?”

Ouch.

You bring your hand from his bicep to his face.

“Maybe I could help you relax, hmm?”

You see a ghost of a grin but as soon as it’s there, it’s gone.

“That’s nice but not tonight.”

He gently moves your hands off of him and walks around you to the walk-in closet.

You stand in the same spot for a moment. Your heart drops into your stomach and a chill runs down your spine.

What. Just. Happened.

Is this it?

Does he not find you attractive anymore?

Is he….

Is he gonna leave you?

You hold back the tears and make your way to the ensuite bathroom and lock the door.

Gripping the counter and leaning against it, you look into the mirror.

Don’t cry, don’t cry, don’t cry.

One tear falls, and then another. 

Then another until you can’t stop them from falling.

You hold both hands over your mouth to quiet the sobs that rack your body.

You back up until you meet the wall and slide down.

Your chest heaves from the sobs and agonizing pain in your heart.

He’s gonna leave me.

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

Brendon cracks his neck as he walks back out from the closet, scrubs discarded and now changed into fresh pajamas.

He sees your side of the bed empty but then sees the bathroom door closed and hears the shower running.

He lets out a sigh and gets into bed as he waits for you. All he wants is to get some rest and have you cuddled up against him. 

Brendon knew things had been a bit strained lately and he felt a bit guilty for not being as present in your relationship like usual but things were starting to get better at work and he hoped you guys could get back to normal now. 

Today has been rough like the last few months but things would change come his next shift.

He just needed to recuperate from today and then he’d have a good talk with you and apologize. Maybe take you out for dinner and a movie.

He smiles at the thought.

——

It’s been over an hour before Brendon still sees you’re not in bed.

He goes up to the bathroom door and presses his ear against it.

The shower is still on.

Weird.

He can’t hear anything else.

“Sweetheart,” he knocks lightly “you good in there?”

No response.

“Baby?” He grabs the door handle to open it but he finds it locked.

Panic starts to seep into his veins.

“Baby please open the door.”

He’s still met with silence.

Brendon’s heart starts to race as he reaches a hand up on the top of the door frame and grabs the spare key sitting there for emergencies.

Once he has the door open he looks around and then towards the shower.

His blood runs cold.

“Sweetheart!”

He runs to the shower where your naked form is sitting, slumped inside against the wall.

He practically rips the glass door off its hinges as he gets into the shower still fully clothed.

On his knees he grabs you by the shoulders and turns your face towards his.

He’s met with puffy, red rimmed eyes staring back at him.

“Hey, hey what’s wrong baby? Are you hurt? Did you fall?”

His fingers press gently but quickly around your head looking for any blood, bumps or injuries.

You slowly shake your head.

“M’fine” you mumble.

He furrows his eyebrows at your quiet words.

“You’re gonna have to do a lot better than that to convince me. C’mon let’s get you out of here. It’s freezing.”

He scoops up your cold body and sits you on the counter by the sink.

He grabs your favorite fluffy towel and wraps it around you, rubbing his hands up and down your arms to help warm you up.

His heart breaks at your sad demeanor.

“Baby,” he lifts your chin up to look at him “What happened? What’s wrong?”

Tears build in your eyes and your chin trembles.

“Please don’t leave me.”

Then the tears fall as you lean your head into his shoulder.

Sobs rack your body and Brendon holds you, tears building in his eyes.

“Leave you?” He asks confused

“Why on earth would I do that?”

“Y-You don’t want m-me anymore.” You manage to say between the tears.

“What?” he leans you back and gently holds your face in his hands.

“Why wouldn’t I want my wife?”

“You’ve b-been distant. I th-thought maybe we could just have s-some fun tonight but then you didn’t want me a-and I’m scared you don’t want m-me at all. That you want someone else..”

The words completely shattered Brendon’s heart.

Had he really withdrawn from you that much that you felt he didn’t love you anymore?

That you thought he’d leave you? 

For someone else?

Fuck.

He had to fix this, quick.

“Sweetheart, look at me.”

Your tired eyes meet his.

“First, hear me and hear me clearly. I’m never leaving you. I fucking love you. So damn much.”

He takes a deep breath.

“Second, I’ve not been honest these last few months. Gloria has been making big cuts. Letting go lots of staff, including surgeons and attendings. I heard my name was up on the list of potential ones to go. It got to me and I’ve been hauling ass every fucking day for my job. I didn’t want to admit that I was scared. I’m supposed to support you and give you everything. Give you the world…I couldn’t let you down.”

A tear falls down his cheek and without thinking you reach up and wipe it away.

“Lastly, I’m so fucking sorry. I’m sorry I let all of that affect our marriage and make you think I didn’t love you. That I’d leave you. I swore in my vows I’d love you forever and I meant that. Every word.”

You sniffle and take a shaky breath.

“Then why’d you turn me down tonight?”

“I was so upset earlier over everything. I found out I’m for sure not getting let go but I was angry. Angry my name was even brought up for it to begin with. I didn’t want to take that out on you in any form, especially sex. But I think I already did with the lack of it over these last few months. Which again I’m sorry. I just was so overwhelmed with everything and didn’t want to force things and fake it with you. I never want that for us.”

He closes his eyes, willing himself not to cry in front of you.

Then he feels you wrap yourself around him.

“Brendon. I love you. You could never let me down. Even if you did lose your job, I wouldn’t think less of you, be disappointed in you or love you any less. I know that stuff can be scary but next time please just talk to me. This is a marriage. I’m here for you as much as you’re here for me. I can’t support you and be there for you if you don’t let me in. If you’re not in the mood for a conversation or sex or anything, just tell me. I’ll always understand. But I really thought you were gonna leave.”

He shakes his head rapidly.

“God no, baby. Never happening.”

“Good. Because I don’t think I’d survive it.”

He grabs your face and kisses you slowly.

“Also I know I didn’t say it earlier but you did look hot as hell. I’m sorry I ruined that for you.”

You chuckle a bit.

“You can make it up to me later Bren. Right now I just want to get in bed and cuddle my husband.”

He smiles brightly at you.

🦈

“Are you out of your mind?!”

Brendon rolled his eyes at your tone on the phone, while he walked with your daughter through the hospital hallway.

He forgot to pick her up from the kindergarten like he promised, being an hour late. She didn’t mind though, she was eager to spend some time with her dad.

“As far as I can remember, I’m not.”

“I’m coming to the hospital. Not gonna be easy on you!”

You ended up the call, Brendon looked at the phone and just shrugged.

“Daddy, can I have an icecream?” Your little girl fluttered her lashes sweetly at him, holding his hand.

He smiled down at her and nodded. “Of course, princess. I’ll get you some.”

Sitting in his chair, spinning in it, she giggled softly, enjoying the frozen thing, while he looked over some papers of the patients he had that day.

Feeling the rise of his hair on the back of his neck, he knew that you were about to storm into his office.

And he was right.

Not bothering to knock, you opened the door swiftly. Cheeks flushed, your blouse slightly unbuttoned as you liked it to wear, your eyes found your little girl.

“My poor baby.” You huffed and instantly went for her, hugging her tight, while giving Brendon a scolding glare.

He stood there leaning against the small table, his lips in the tight line, arms folded on his chest.

“Daddy got me an ice cream!” Your daughter grinned in happiness, she was so oblivious to the tension between adults.

“Mhm, how sweet of him.” You huffed, running a hand through your hair.

“She was still playing with other kids when I arrived at the kindergarten, so…” he shrugged.

“That’s not the point, Brendon. You promised to be there on time. Not to make her wait and for the teacher to call me.” You stood up, narrowing your back to throw daggers at him by your glare.

“Sorry, I was on a case.”

“Sure. You always are.”

Your daughter furrowed her small brows. “Be nice.”

You let out a shocked gasp while Brendon smirked softly.

“Excuse me, little lady?”

She scoffed. “You are mean, mommy.”

Glancing up at Brendon with wide eyes, you were red with anger. And he was having the time of his life.

“What about a sleepover at my place, hm? You can have a night for yourself, and me and the princess will have a movie night.” Brendon took a step towards you, holding your gaze.

“Yes! Yes! Mommy, please say yes!” She chanted like a crazy animal and you tried so hard to put on your hard facade, to be stoic and unmoving.

But then— “Fine.” You let out a sigh.

🦈

Your little one threw a fit over a missing stuffed animal, so Brendon called you in the evening and you came over.

Ringing the bell, he opened immediately, in his home attire with his hair ruffled from the shower. It was a funny sight from the usual slick one he wore to the hospital.

“Hey. Come in.” He pressed his lips into a small smile and you stepped into the hallway.

“Here’s the little rabbit she’s missing so much.” You chuckled with a shake of your head.

“Yeah, thanks… she was really insufferable, crying like a dying cat…” he hummed, taking the toy from your hand, brushing his fingers with yours.

“Uh, I can imagine, really.” You stood there awkwardly.

“But she fell asleep when you were on your way here, so…” Brendon rubbed the back of his neck with a little guilty expression.

“Ah. Well, that’s okay. She’ll be surprised when she wakes up in the morning that her favourite rabbit is somehow in bed with her.” You nodded, looking to the ground.

“You want some tea, coffee…?” It was unusual to ask you that, because your meetings were usually full of angry fire due to your painful split.

You were never his wife, there wasn’t a time for that when you fell pregnant so quickly after you two started dating. It was an accident but you decided to give it a shot. Apart from bed you weren’t compatible, he was always in hospital, taking courses to be better in his career while you were at home, your own life postponed because you nursed your daughter.

But hell, you missed being devoured by him.

“Tea is fine.” You whispered and smiled a little, taking off your shoes.

Settling in the living room, you shifted uncomfortably into the seat on the couch, taking in the scattered toys around the space. The one you used to live in.

Brendon was back with two mugs, placing them on the coffee table, taking a seat next to you.

“She’s fast asleep but managed to snatch that stuffed animal from me.” He laughed softly, glancing at you.

“The usual.” You murmured amused, taking the mug into your hands and sipping the tea.

Silence stretched through the room, only the tv in the background was on.

“So… how are you doing?” He decided to ask, clearing his throat.

Rubbing the rim of the mug, you shifted a little. “Well, good.”

“Just good?”

“What do you want me to say, Brendon?” You shot him a glance.

“I don’t even know…” he shrugged, averting his gaze to the tv.

“I should probably go.” You placed the mug on the coffee table with a thud and got up but he mirrored your actions, standing in front of you.

His tall and huge figure towering over you, making you so small.

“You can stay the night.” He took a step closer causing you to take a step back.

“We both know that it’s a terrible idea.” You muttered, hands flexing at your sides as you held his predatory gaze.

His hand reached up to your hair, to brush a strand from your face. “No, we both know it’s the best idea. The one that worked truly great for us before.”

With his words your back collided with the hard wall, knocking the breath out of your lungs, the heat in your cheeks growing.

“You know that you’re free to leave. To let go, to keep your distance.” His voice so low, so close to your head, his breath fanned over your face. “But I guess you don’t want to.”

“Bren—“ you choked out, stopping midway when his fingers grazed your jaw.

“Shhh… let me make it up to you. I acted badly today, leaving our princess in distress, waiting for me. And I made you upset. Unacceptable…” whispers against your lips, you just let out a soft hum of agreement.

Brendon lifted you up to his chest with his arm, while you wrapped your legs around his waist, kissing him softly but urgently, his other hand in your hair holding you close.

Carrying you to the bedroom you had many memories of, he placed you gently on the bed, hovering over you, having your face cupped in his large hands.

“I missed this.” His confession tugged on your heartstrings and you sighed softly.

“Me too…” you hummed, there was no point to deny it.

“Really?” His thumb brushed under your eye.

“Yes.” You breathed out, staring into his eyes.

“Give me a sec. I’ll check on our tigress and I’ll be back.” He pecked your nose and quickly got off you to get into the bedroom of your daughter.

You propped yourself up on your elbows, dazzled by the faint smell of his scent that was lingering through the air. It was a bad idea. You’re gonna regret it. But for tonight you decided to put your worries to the side.

Brendon peeked through the door, finding your daughter sleeping soundly, without any doubt of her waking up soon.

He was back in no time, closing the door behind him, locking them with a soft click.

Then he turned around to take a look at you just lying there, waiting for him quietly.

Taking a few steps to the edge of the bed, he climbed on top of it, his weight dipping into the mattress, overwhelming you with his huge presence.

With a hitch of your breath, you reached out to his shirt, bringing him closer to kiss him. Brendon melted into your mouth, a soft whimper escaping his throat.

His hand worked its way under your shirt, touching your hot skin on your side, causing you to flinch in excitement.

“Still so sensitive…” he muttered in between the kisses and you giggled.

Helping him out of his shirt, you admired his torso, he was so muscular, even more now than before. Your mouth was absolutely drooling over the sight of him.

Brendon noticed, a cocky smirk lifting the curves of his lips.

“Like what you see?” His hands were working at the hem of your bra.

“You know I do.” You bit your lip with a redness in your face.

He was starting to grow impatient with how many layers of clothes you had on. His eagerness almost ripped your shirt when he pulled it over your head, your bra hastily pushed to the side, revealing one of your breasts. Being like a hungry beast, he leaned down, grasping your chest into his hands, playing and kissing you.

Your back arched with a small gasp escaping your throat.

Erection strained his sweatpants, his hips buckling into yours, you could feel how much he wanted you.

“Bren, please… don’t tease…” you whimpered, fingers running through his hair.

“You’re straightforward as always…” he muttered, his tongue trailing down your abdomen, his hands already pulling down your pants along with your underwear.

Almost losing his breath when he spotted how soaked you were, he waited no more and delved into your velvet folds, tasting your aching pussy, giving you those kitten licks he knew you loved.

“Fuck…” you yelped, eyes wide.

“Shhh… can’t wake up our little one.” A mischievous smile flashed across his lips.

You only huffed, brows falling down in frustration.

Getting up on his knees he took off his sweatpants and you were in absolute awe when he revealed he’s not wearing any underwear.

“You’re unbelievable, Brendon.”

Your voice made his cock twitch, his size matched him so fucking well, you started to wonder if he’s gonna fit after that long time.

Giving himself a few strokes, precum dripped down his foreskin, you breathed out with the urge of running your tongue through it.

“I need you so badly, darling… I’m so hard, it’s painful.” He groaned, and you reached with your hand to get a hold on him, sitting up in the process. The way he stood tall on his knees was perfect for you to be face to face with his tip. Licking your lips, you watched your hand pumping him softly, trembling with joy.

“Not gonna last like this…” he placed his hand over yours, stopping you midstroke.

Lifting your gaze to look up at him, he could feel the rush through his balls at how sexy you looked.

“Can I… give it a little taste?” You asked, not caring about his answer, kissing the underside of his cock, making him twitch and grunt.

“Jesus Christ…” Brendon was so down for you, moaning pathetically when you finally wrapped your lips around his shaft.

Caressing the top of your head, it was like a sign that was saying good girl.

You already regretted your decision, because your jaw was at its limits while you weren’t even halfway through his length. A soft gagging sounds vibrated through him and he was holding back the instinct of slamming into your throat immediately.

“S-stop, darling— stop…” he rushed you to pull away from him and you listened, a trail of saliva was the only thing connecting you to his dick when you took a deep breath, tears were pricking in your eyes.

“Bren…” you whimpered.

“It’s okay, baby. We don’t have to… let’s enjoy ourselves, shall we, hm?” He patted your cheek with a wide smile, of course he loved to see you like this, ruined and needy, but this wasn’t the point of the night.

Reaching for a pack of condoms, he took one and swiftly pulled it down his size.

You were trembling with the heat you felt between your legs.

“On your back and your legs up.” He commanded and you obeyed.

Moving his absurdly huge body to navigate his tip to your folds felt unreal. Rubbing his length through your slick lips and then smoothly pushing through your walls of heaven? Brendon almost passed out from how you hugged him immediately, sucking him in in the most delicious way.

On the other hand, you gripped your thighs, eyes wide and you wanted to look down, between your bodies. A shriek left your mouth, when you felt the stretch, it was becoming unbearable.

“Oh, can you feel this?” Brendon huffed out, his hands pressing your legs to your chest, to make you even more breathless.

“Bren— I can’t—“ you choked out a desperate moan.

“You can take it, shhh…” he murmured, slamming back into you, your insides loosening a little, but still you could feel him even in your throat.

“I wish you could see how you look right now…” thrusting into you, he tried to talk, but the way you were clenching with need was exhausting him from doing so.

“Bren—“ you were moaning his name like a prayer, bodies doing all those slick lewd sounds as you were covered in sweat along with your juices of arousal. The bed was creaking, the danger of waking up your daughter was high, but somehow none of you could waste a breath to think about it.

His weight pushed you into the mattress more, he was pressed down onto you, each thrust knocking the breath out of your lungs.

You tried to reach to his back, but you had strength to make it to his shoulders where you grazed his skin with your nails.

Brendon held your fluttering gaze, he noticed how you were fighting your consciousness.

“Eyes on me, baby. Come on, don’t run from it, darling.” He whispered through his gritted teeth, his balls slapping your ass.

“Shit, Brendon— I—“

He could see how you were surprised by the intensity of your climax. It came out of nowhere, hard.

Milking his cock to the oblivion, he wasn’t strong enough to resist and he faltered in his movements, spilling his precious pearly cream into you through the latex barrier that was in between your sexes.

Having his hands at your sides to hold himself up, he was shaking, his muscles slowly giving up. Carefully he slipped out of you, passing beside you to catch a breath, while you stared into the ceiling.

“Jesus, Brendon, what have we done…” you chuckled from the afterglow of the release.

Cupping your cheek, he brought you closer to him, wrapping his arms around you.

“I missed this…” he breathed out into your hair, his nose nuzzling into your temple.

You snuggled closer, enjoying the way he smelled just right. Like he was yours.

“We have to figure it out between us… I can’t lose you again.” Brendon was staring into your eyes, the depth of his own was maddening.

The reality dawned on you, this was a mistake.

But…

You didn’t regret it.

Not with him.

It was meant to be.

“Okay.” You mumbled, pressing your head to his chest, listening to his heartbeat, praying for this moment to never end.

🦈

Once you made it to the bathroom, you were barely able to stand, Brendon helped you. You also noticed your pussy leaking with something and you scooped a little bit on your fingers.

He had his attention on his now softened dick, pulling down the used condom.

“Brendon…” your scared, faltering voice brought his glance at you.

“Babe…” he was breathless when he inspected the plastic thing being broken and that fluid on your fingers was his cum.

You just stared at yourselves, silence thick in the room.

It was exactly like that moment years ago before you fell pregnant with your daughter.

🦈

It wasn’t on purpose.

When he was young, he was so deadset on becoming a surgeon that everything else became an afterthought. He maintained relationships here and there (he wasn’t a saint) but by the time he was an attending none of his girlfriends managed to keep up with his relentless schedule, demanding workload, and emotionally reserved nature.

Truly, he doesn't blame them. He wasn't exactly carving out the time for them either --- too focused on being the best and too single-minded in his career to put any relationship as a priority.

Long story short – good surgeon, bad boyfriend.

And then he woke up and he was 40 years old with a very pissed off mother.

When he reluctantly asked his friends about it, the warnings were immediate and repetitive.

Dating in the modern century is different now. The women are different. Difficult.

Too demanding. Too clingy. Too much.

By the time Yolanda sidelined him quietly with a proposition, he was already dreading the worst and preparing himself to disappoint his mother for the first time in his life.

You were a welcome (gorgeous) surprise.

Yolanda’s friend of a friend of a friend that she set him up with. Something about a ‘sweetie-pie that could just soften you up, big guy’.

What she failed to mention was the noticeable difference in years between the two of you.

He was never one to go for someone young just to compensate for a void in his life or make himself feel better about getting older. Even though he saw the appeal, it was never a requirement. If you had asked him before the date, he would’ve thought dating someone younger was more trouble than it was worth.

But watching you beam as he waits for you by the door of the café he had reserved a table for today’s date, holding a fresh pink bouquet of flowers just because Yolanda mentioned that it was your favorite, he couldn’t help but wonder if he was too confident with that assumption.

“Flowers on the first date? You’re winning me over already.”

He couldn’t help but frown in confusion, remembering a coworker's quip about not coming on too strong. Already feeling an unfamiliar feeling of minuscule panic creeping up his throat. “Is it too much?”

Your eyes widened, head shaking, “No! No, they're beautiful. It’s just – men don’t really – it’s less of a thing now.”

He hums, deciding that that was stupid. Especially when he saw just how beautiful the flowers looked when you held them --- like they belonged in your arms. He opens the door for you. “That’s a shame.”

You laugh, head back and so carefree. It warms something in his belly. “Yes. Yes, it is.”

The two of you continued a casual conversation as you lined up for your orders, an official introduction of sorts. Thankfully, it wasn’t as awkward as he dreaded, your cheerful disposition perfectly counteracted his restrained one.

He couldn’t help but notice you intimately checking out the pastries bar but not ordering any when you got to the counter. Thankfully, he was quick enough to take note of those that caught your eyes for longer than half a second, ordering it along with his drink and swiping his card for both of your orders.

As he pulled back a chair, he noticed the few seconds of shock on your face before you sat. A small touch on his bicep and a bashful ‘thank you’ had him concluding that this was also no longer ‘a thing’ in this generation.

If he were honest, he'd admit he was dreading this. It's been a while since his last proper date. He wasn't sure if he could muster up enough topics to keep the conversation going or accidentally say something rude or stupid that would turn this date into a humiliation ritual.

But you were pleasant company and a surprisingly great conversationalist. Picking up where he was prone to awkward silences. You carried the conversation with an ease that he admired. To his surprise, the conversation shifted from one topic to another, and by the end of the night, you somehow even managed to get him actually interested in the New York sports team you were dedicated to. A sport he had never given a thought to his entire life.

“You live in Pittsburgh.”

“So?” you giggle at his obvious accusation.

“Now, that’s just treason.”

That got an adorably loud laugh out of you that embarrassingly puffs out his chest – he knew he wasn’t exactly the funny type so to have you genuinely throwing your head back at his banter felt good.

Three drinks, 6 pastries, and too much caffeine later, he realized it had already turned dark outside and your friend (probably Yolanda wanting all the details) was already texting you incessantly about dinner.

“So, how much do I owe you?”

He looks down at you in confusion as he helps you put your jacket on.

“For what?”

A respectful palm gently leads you by the curve of your back and into his car, which was parked just a few feet from the café.

“Lunch.”

He shuts the door, still confused even as he pulls out of the curb.

“I asked you out, it’s on me.”

“Technically, you didn’t ask me out. We were set up.”

He rolls his eyes at that, huffing out a laugh. Cheeky brat.

“I’m the man. I pay for dinner.”

“That’s very old-fashioned of you, Brendon.”

“Well, I am 15 years your senior, baby." It doesn’t escape him how you press your legs together at that statement. Interesting. “I get to be old-fashioned, don’t you think?”

You turn your body fully toward him, blessing him with a shy, sweet smile.

“Old-fashioned enough to not to kiss on the first date?”

He takes a deep breath, pressing on the gas.

“Old-fashioned enough to ask first."

‘Busy morning and tied up in surgery this afternoon. I’ve got about 30 minutes for a call at 11:30 if you're free?’

‘Sounds perfect. Can’t wait <3”

“👍”

“What’s this?”

You flip the thick piece of paper back and forth as if the words were written in hieroglyphics.

He watches you register what he had just done.

“Tickets. For the Knicks game this weekend.”

You stare at him as if he just popped out a second head so he sighs and continues. “You said you loved them on our first date.”

“Brendon.”

“It’s the Eastern Conference Finals.”

“Brendon.”

“What?”

“It’s in New York.”

He cocks his head at another pair of tickets sitting on his coffee table.

“Those are our plane tickets.”

“You bought plane tickets?!”

“Can’t exactly walk there, sweetheart.”

“You bought Knicks tickets, plane tickets, and planned an entire trip without telling me?”

“Well, such is the nature of a surprise.”

You actually let out a snort of laughter before jumping into his lap on the couch pressing kisses and ‘thank you’s’ on whatever skin you could reach. “You’re ridiculous.”

“You haven’t even heard of the restaurant reservation yet.”

Or the fact that he somehow tracked down a friend of a friend of a friend who is somehow dating someone working game day operations just to make sure the kiss cam landed on the two of you during half-time.

And they said he wasn’t a romantic.

It took Park 3 months in your relationship to realize … you have never truly slept over his place.

When you mentioned on your second date that you were a virgin and that you planned to wait until marriage, he was – for the sake of honesty – taken aback.

Not that there was anything wrong with it and you had bashfully admitted that you were willing to do some 'other stuff' as long as you didn’t go 'all the way'. Something about a vow with the women in your family that the only man who should be able to touch you is the one who is willing to commit.

It makes sense, in theory. But they never took into consideration that the man who plans to worship the ground you walk on is a stressed-out orthopedic surgeon in a trauma center whose only source of relaxation is in between your thighs.

So, yeah. He was a bit taken aback. And frustrated.

But he respected it.

(He was too far gone for you to let this minor complication stand in his way.)

Sucked it up like a man, met your parents, swore to them that this relationship would end in marriage once you were ready, and now added meditation to his workout routine so he wouldn’t pop a boner every time you lounged around his place in just his shirt.

“What are you doing?”

He asks from the en-suite bathroom’s door, finally ready for bed after a long day of bullshit in the hospital only to find his girlfriend quietly trying to book a taxi from his bed.

“Oh! I figured you’d be too tired to drive me back home so I was just going to book a car.”

He frowns in confusion. Quickly walking to where you were lounging in his bed to grab your phone and cancel it.

“Wha – hey!”

“I think we’re past asking permission to stay over.”

You open your mouth to protest before hesitating, choosing instead to crawl to the edge of the bed so you can sit by where he was standing. The fresh smell of his soap, body wash, and clean skin lights your skin on fire.

“I don’t have my skincare stuff in here,” you weakly protested.

He hummed, hands petting the back of your head.“Let’s go buy it tomorrow after brunch. It’s my day off.”

You beamed, gasping in glee. “Really?”

"Really." He can’t help but chuckle at your delight – so pleased with a couple hundred dollars of products. Seems he wasn’t doing quite a good enough job spoiling you, he plans to change that starting tomorrow. “Anything else I should know before our first official sleepover?”

You rubbed your cheeks into his hands like a cat before shyly nodding.

“I know you’re having a hard time with the … abstinence thing,” you pout your lips up at him, your chin digging firmly on his navel which definitely didn’t help.

He clears his throat, taking a beat to look up at the ceiling and collect himself before letting his hands cup your cheeks, “I’m a grown man, babydoll. I can handle sleeping next to my woman without pouncing on her.”

“I trust you, Bren,” you insist earnestly. “But it doesn’t mean I want to frustrate you any more than I already do.”

“Hey, where is this coming from? I’ll behave,” he pokes the tip of your nose to lighten your mood but you only bit your bottom lip in even more hesitation. “Or is there another reason?”

He wouldn’t want to push you if you were truly uncomfortable.

“The thing is,” you groan, cupping the hands holding your face. “I can only sleep naked.”

If he had to go back to the bathroom for five minutes to listen to the calming meditation exercise his therapist recommended to him, it would be something the two of you agreed to take to the grave.

“Alright, my eyes are closed, babydoll.”

He prepared as best as he could.

Lights are off, sleep mask on.

Now he just needs to not think about his girlfriend sleeping naked beside him for the entire night. His adorable, sweet, angel of a woman who is not wearing a stitch of clothing on her bo –

“Thanks for doing this, baby.”

He sucks in a sharp breath when he feels you press a kiss to his cheeks.

He grips the comforter so tight he swears his nails ripped through it. “Warn a man next time.”

Your giggle disappears under the duvet. He makes it a point to put a pillow between the two of you – for your sake and mostly his.

It’ll be fine. Everything will be –

-- fucked! He is so fucking fucked.

The nudity wasn’t the challenge – difficult, yes but manageable with the proper monk-like focus. What you have failed to disclose was that you slept like a possessed octopus. Something he himself only found out when he felt your entire body weight on top of him at 2:47 in the morning.

Once he felt the swell of your chest on his ribs his entire body instinctively flinched so quickly, he almost developed a cramp.

“S-Sweetheart,” he whispered, trying to see if he could jog you out of your sleep gently to save him from the suffering of having to push you back.

To his horror, you just whined, grabbing even more tightly to his biceps as you dragged your body up the length of his so you could push your face in the juncture of his neck.

The contrast of the warmth of your skin on his, the small puffs of air a siren’s call on his ear, and the plump of your lips grazing his neck as you sleepily mumble mindless nothings was torture to his already frazzled sense of self-control.

He grips his bedsheet tightly, knowing his willpower would snap if his hands ever got ahold of you.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

“’luv yu’, Bren.”

He sucks in a breath. What the – did you just say – “Babydoll?”

“So nice to me,” you whimper the words on his neck. “Love you so much.”

That felt like a jagged knife of guilt to his heart.

The shame and responsibility you felt for what he could only believe other lovers saw as a drawback or a burden. It must’ve been a heavy weight to carry for his sweet girl.

He swears you won’t have to carry it anymore as long as he is here.

He holds his breath for 10 seconds and lets it out for 5. He thinks about surgical risks, antibiotics, anesthesia regulation, and proper post-op instruction. Thinks about Gloria on his neck, the pressure to live up to their expectation as the upcoming Chief of Surgery. He thinks about Robinavitch’s jealousy even though the both of them knew the pressure Brendon was in would eventually fling the ER attending from the roof he so often escaped to.

Anything and everything to keep his mind clear and disciplined as he refuses to be another weak man who resents your boundaries.

With a deep breath he finally gathers you in his arms, curling around you until his body threatens to swallow you whole.

Saying instead the words that always seemed to get stuck between his heart and his tongue whenever you looked at him. Reminding himself to repeat it tomorrow before you could say it first.

He’s an old-fashioned man, after all.

“I love you, babydoll.”

'Going to the gym but i'm gonna be busy all day. Text me '911' if it's an emergency and my assistant will track me down.'

'Go it. I'm planning to cook you steak for dinner tonight, can I use your kitchen?'

'DON'T SEND ME MONEY. It's my treat.'

'I know your fingers are hovering Brendon Park. Don't!'

'Fine'

'Fine <3'

'Check your jewelry box. I slipped a spare key to my place there.'

'Okay <3'

'Wait what.'

“Hi, babyyyy,” you jump into his arms as he drops his work bag unceremoniously on the floor.

Your text that said you were going to spend your day off going to the grocery store and preparing him a steak dinner genuinely was the only thing that pushed him through a long day of surgeries and consultations.

He lets you rope him into a kiss, sitting the two of you down on his couch as you continue to map out his face with your mouth.

“Missed you so much,” you mutter in between kisses. He smiles at your earnest confession. “Say you missed me too.”

You press a finger on his chest, and he glances down at it as if unconvinced. You squawk in offense and try to get off his lap but not before getting caught in his arms and flipped into the couch.

“You’re all I ever thought about all day, sweetheart.”

You hum, running your hand on his hair. “That’s a dangerous habit, doctor.”

“Don’t worry. I’m a professional.”

With one last deep kiss he lets you out of his arms and back into the kitchen. He prepares to stand up and set the table but you pressed a hand into his chest with an explicit instruction to go shower and relax.

“It’ll be ready when you’re out.”

By the time he was done, you were already getting the wine out of the chiller. “Oh, by the way, some important-looking envelope from your bank arrived.”

You point a finger at the side table by the door. He opens it, his eyes moving carefully with each line.

“Babydoll?”

“Yeah?”

“Can you give me your landlord’s bank details?”

A pause, he turns back to see you staring at him in bewilderment.

“Uh, what for?”

He drops the letter on the coffee table before walking towards you. “I need it to set up an auto-pay in my account.”

You blink up at him as he casually presses a kiss on your lips before sitting at his seat beside yours.

“Are you … moving?” You ask even though you had to admit how incredulous it was. Why would he switch his immaculate penthouse to your subpar building? Is he buying the building then?

“No, for your apartment, honey,” he continues patiently, taking your hand.

Your eyes widened, finally getting what he is implying. “What?! Why – you don’t have to do that! I-I know I complain a lot but I’m fine really!”

He presses a kiss on the back of your hand. “I know, sweetie. But I’m planning on moving you with me by the end of the year, and I want that transition to be as smooth as possible for you.”

Your mouth opens and closes in shock as he drops two bombs on you at once.

“Are … are you asking me to move in with you?”

He slices a piece of his steak before feeding it to you.

“By the end of the year,” he reiterates casually. “At least that’s the deadline I gave my realtor.”

You audibly swallow the barely chewed steak, pushing it down with large gulps of wine.

“I … I don’t want to make it seem like I-I’m a gold digger or something.”

His face hardens at that. “Don’t say that.”

“I’m serious. People talk.”

“Let them talk,” the reprimand was there but it was gentle. “I know why you’re here.”

That softens you.

“Because I’m funny and a good lay.”

You almost snorted your wine into your nose and he finally smiles hearing you laugh. He raises an eyebrow as if to say ‘see?’.

“Brendon –”

“Hey,” he takes your hand, pulling you closer and letting the chair screech in protest. “You’re allowed to like the things I do for you. I work hard, I make good money. And I’d rather spend it making you happy than letting it sit there in the bank.”

He holds your hesitant eyes, only letting a victorious smile appear on his face when you let out a resigned sigh.

You stand up and he automatically pushes his chair back so you can sit in his lap.

“Okay. Thank you. I love you and I will move in with you by the end of the year even though you technically didn't ask.”

“You’re welcome,” he whispers on your lips. “Also, that was your new credit card in the envelope.”

“A-Are you hurt?” She tried to sound serious, demanding that he answer her, but her concern was evident- fearful that her father might have gotten hurt.

Something tightened in Sukuna's chest -just slightly- at the question. Of course that would be her first concern... Just like you, her beautiful mother, always worried about him.

“No, brat,” he finally answered with a lazy smirk, one sharp nail brushing aside her bangs before ruffling her hair, “it’s not my blood.”

Her eyes narrowed, processing this information until she pointed a small finger at his forearm where a vivid red pattern stood out against his black tattoos.

“Does that mean it belongs to someone else?”

Sukuna's laugh was dark and low, edged with something dangerous, “Someone who fucked with the wrong pers-…”

“Bad language tax,” she replied automatically, but the reprimand was distracted, secondary to her question.

“Put it on my tab,” he sighed, “but yeah… your old man had to take care of a bad guy.”

Her ice cream cup clinked softly against the table as it nearly slipped from her tiny hands just as she gasped. Her entire little body stiffening, the mug wobbling in her grip. Her eyes went huge, mouth forming a perfect O. She whispers under her breath loud enough for him to hear, “Papa… is a superhero???”

Sukuna laughed at that, “Not even fucking close,” he said, red eyes shimmering with amusement, “but the bastard had it coming.”

She gasped dramatically at the swears, then immediately giggled- as if what he just said didn’t even phase her, “You said more bad words,” she whispered, “Mama's gonna be mad.”

“Your mother has heard worse,” he said, mouth quirking up at one corner.

“If you’re not a super hero, then what are you, papa?”

Sukuna's eyes darkened, “I'm the thing heroes fight against,” he said simply. “the monster that lurkes in the shadows.”

She frowned, “But monsters are bad,” she declared, “and you’re not bad. You protect mama and I.”

The certainty in her voice -the absolute, unwavering faith- made Sukuna's chest tighten again... The very feeling he'd thought long dead until you had somehow revived it, and this small extension of himself had brought fully to life again.

“The world's not that simple, kid,” he said, more gently than anyone who knew him would believe possible.

She nodded, “Like how you tell me stealing is wrong, but then you stole the last cookie yesterday?”

Sukuna’s expression went blank, not expecting that to be her example of how the world isn’t simple, “That's… different. My house, my cookies.”

She gave him a cheesy grin before laughing- this moment where she was confronting the violent reality of who and what her father was. “I think,” she announced, reaching out fearlessly to touch a particularly vivid splash of blood on his shirt, “that you're like the dragon, Sylus, in my book!”

Sukuna raised an eyebrow, genuinely curious, “How's that?”

“He’s scary and breathes fire and everyone's afraid of him,” she explained, tiny hands flying in the air now with pure excitement, “But!! That’s because he is protecting his treasure.”

Her eyes never left his, “We're your treasure. Me and mama! So you have to be scary sometimes to keep us safe! You’re a special kind of hero!”

Something dangerously close to emotion threatened to close Sukuna's throat. This child -this impossibility- making sense of him in ways adults never could. Accepting the violence and the blood as just another aspect of protection…

“Sure, something like that…” he managed, voice wavering ever so slightly.

She nodded once, decision made, “Then it's okay.” She patted his cheek with small, sticky fingers, leaving a smear of pink ice cream among the blood. “But mama is going to be mad about the shirt. It's white… erm, well… was...”

Sukuna snorted, the tension of the moment broken by her practical observation, “Your mother's seen worse.”

“Worse shirts?” she asked innocently.

“Worse everything,” he muttered, straightening to his full towering height, “now finish your ice cream while I clean up.”

As Sukuna discarded his shirt he looked back at his little girl…

A hero. What a fucking joke…

Bruce noticed. Of course he did.

He raised an eyebrow, drying his hair with the towel. “What?”

You set the coffee down carefully. “You… have hair.”

He glanced down at himself, almost self-conscious for the first time in years. “It grows back when I stop shaving. The suit chafes otherwise.” He rubbed a hand over his chest, looking vaguely embarrassed. “It’s been a while since I let it. I can shave it if—”

“No,” you said quickly. Too quickly. “Don’t. It’s… nice.”

Bruce paused, then a slow, amused smirk tugged at his lips. “Nice?”

You crossed the kitchen, unable to stop yourself. Your hands slid up his chest, fingers threading through the soft hair there. It was thicker than you expected, warm from the shower, and felt ridiculously good under your palms.

“Really nice,” you murmured, voice a little breathless. You leaned in and pressed a kiss right over his sternum, then another, then another, working your way across his chest like you were discovering new territory.

Bruce’s breath hitched. His hands settled on your waist, thumbs stroking your sides through your robe. “You’re… very enthusiastic about this.”

“I’ve never seen you like this,” you admitted, kissing lower, right over his heart. “It’s… hot. You look like a real person. My husband. Not the polished billionaire or the statue in a suit.”

He let out a low, surprised laugh, but it turned into a soft groan when your lips brushed one of his nipples. His fingers tightened on your waist.

“Careful,” he warned, voice rougher now. “You keep doing that and I’m going to forget I’m supposed to be resting.”

You looked up at him, eyes sparkling with mischief. “Maybe I don’t want you to rest.”

Bruce’s eyes darkened. He cupped your face with one hand, thumb brushing your bottom lip. “You’re going to be the death of me, Mrs. Wayne.”

“Good death,” you whispered, rising onto your toes to kiss him properly.

The kiss started sweet but quickly turned heated. Bruce pulled you closer, one hand sliding into your hair, the other slipping under your robe to rest warm against your bare back. He kissed you like he’d been starving for it — deep, slow, full of all the love and want he usually kept so carefully controlled.

When you broke apart, both breathing harder, he rested his forehead against yours.

“I love you,” he said softly. “Even when you’re ogling me like I’m a science experiment.”

You laughed, pressing another kiss to his chest, right over the soft hair there. “I love you too. Especially when you’re all… natural like this.”

He groaned, half-embarrassed, half-pleased. “You’re ridiculous.”

“But I’m your ridiculous,” you corrected, kissing lower, lips brushing over his abs. “And I’m keeping you exactly like this for as long as you’re benched.”

Bruce’s hands tightened on your waist. “You’re going to kill me before I’m cleared for duty.”

You looked up at him with a wicked little smile. “Worth it.”

He pulled you back up for another deep kiss, hands roaming your body with that perfect mix of reverence and hunger. The robe slipped off one shoulder. His fingers traced the curve of your waist, then higher, thumbs brushing the underside of your breasts.

You shivered, pressing closer, feeling the warmth of his chest hair against your skin. It was softer than you expected, and the way it brushed your nipples when you moved made you gasp softly.

Bruce noticed. Of course he did.

He smiled against your lips. “You really like this, don’t you?”

“Shut up,” you mumbled, kissing him again to hide your blush.

He chuckled, low and warm, and lifted you effortlessly onto the kitchen counter. His mouth moved to your neck, then lower, kissing and nipping gently across your collarbone. One hand slipped inside your robe, palming your breast, thumb circling your nipple until you arched into him with a soft moan.

“Beautiful,” he whispered against your skin. “My beautiful wife.”

You tangled your fingers in his hair, holding him close as he worshipped you with slow, deliberate kisses. The world outside the penthouse didn’t exist. There were no missions, no galas, no Batsuit waiting in the cave.

Just Bruce. Just you.

Just the two of you, tangled together in the morning light, rediscovering each other in the quiet weeks of his recovery.

When he finally pulled back, lips swollen and eyes dark with want, he rested his forehead against yours.

“I love you,” he said again, voice rough but sincere. “More than the suit. More than the money. More than anything.”

You smiled, cupping his face. “I love you too. Hairy chest and all.”

He laughed — bright, genuine, the kind of laugh that made your heart feel too big for your chest.

“Brat,” he murmured fondly, kissing you once more.

The coffee went cold on the counter. The city kept moving far below.

But in the warm glow of your kitchen, Bruce Wayne held you like you were the only thing in the world that mattered.

And for once, the detective didn’t need to solve anything, and he already had everything he needed.

a/n : this is unbearably self indulgent because I like body hair. Just wait till I start writing about biceps 😊

it wasn’t new to have patients rerouted. but it wasn’t something they’d ask for. especially by someone this kid's age. if his condition was worse, they would’ve taken him to Presby. no hesitation. 

“his name?”

“Henry— didn’t get the last. we were trying to get his heart rate down, his adrenaline was high.“ the medic explained. “besides his request to come here, he didn’t talk much after that. I assumed he was still in shock from the pain.”

“and the neighbors didn’t say anything else? where his parents are or where they work?” robby needed something. the medic shook his head. “not to me.” his head turning over to his partner. “Pzsonyi— did the couple tell you anything about the parents?”

“said they were doctors.”

and he was adamant about coming here.

“that should narrow it down. not like we have a hospital full of those—” robby said sarcastically. “we got it from here.”

robby turned and walked towards where the nurses were. the blonde already fixed on him as he approached.

“you good?” dana asked as she watched over the rim of her glasses.

Robby’s hands went behind his neck as he blew out a breath. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

he then looked over his shoulder where the boy was across the floor of the department. “the 11 year old patient that just came in” his head gestured back. Dana’s eyes following. “would you be able to work your magic and get his emergency contacts? came in without anyone. according to the EMT, his parents work here.”

the charge nurse's eyes pinched a bit. 

"they work here?" 

Robby shrugged. “I’m not for sure,” Dana gave him a look, rolling her eyes.

“one of the medics said his parents were doctors and the other told me the boy was insistent on coming here. It’s a long shot but I could only assume.” robby scratched his beard. Dana gave him a nod. “I’ll see what I can do.”

His hands clapped together, grasping one another as he gave her a tight lipped smile. A silent thank you before he turned to leave. heading over to where Henry was.

Jesse was with him. A smile on the boy's face despite his damp cheeks. 

“Henry, right?” robby started as he grabbed some gloves. blue eyes stared back at him, then a nod. a quiet ‘yes sir’ given.

it was a small movement. the corner of Robby’s mouth lifted up. 

Respectful.

his attention turned to Jesse. “500 mg of acetaminophen, 350mg of ibuprofen. and let’s get him in for xrays.” Jesse nodded as he gets the meds ready.

“We’re gonna get a hold of your mom and dad, Henry– let them know you’re here.” robby circled back to the patient. The attending watching. The boy’s lips parting before licking the bottom. almost as if it was on the tip of his tongue and he decided against it. “Okay.” 

“I hear they’re doctors here, any chance I might–”

“Robinavitch.” Dana peeked in. Robby glanced up. The charge nurse's head tipped the other way. “a word.”

Robby gave Henry’s shoulder squeeze. “I’ll be right back, in the mean time, Jesse here,” hand motioning to the tall male nurse, “aaaand” Robby’s head swiveled. eyes catching two of his students.

Student and first year resident.

“Whitaker. Ogilvie.” 

the two turned when they heard their names. Robby signaling them over.

“Dr. Whitaker and Dr. Ogilvie,”

“Student Doctor.” James interrupted with a finger up. Robby paused and nodded. “Right– are going to assist.” 

“Dr. Robby, we don’t–” whitaker’s words fell short as the older man delivered a shoulder pat. “You got this.” gloves snapped off as he sailed out. The blonde was standing in the hall with pressed lips, tablet held to her chest, and an amused glint in her eyes.

“Did you work your magic?” 

A smile stretched across Dana’s face. “I feel like you’re gonna regret asking me.” she laughed. “I did— and you’re never gonna guess who mom and dad are.” 

Robby eyed her. “Who?”

Dana flickered her sight a few feet away to where the boys were. her finger pointing to the younger one who sat on the hospital bed.

“you’ve got a baby shark in there.”

Robby blinked. then let out a laugh.

not a nervous one and not an amused one. It was one someone gave when they were just given information they couldn't fathom. Or really, didn’t like. Almost like not wanting to hear what they were just told even if they asked for it and now they were suffering the consequences.

that kind of laugh. 

“of course they are.” hands rubbing his eyes as he fell back onto the heels of his feet. “Are we sure?” he squinted as he crossed his arms over his chest.

Dana grinned. “Oh, I’m sure.” 

“Did you already let them know?” robby asked.

“And what? risk the chance of there being blood in the water because I waited to tell them that their son was down here. What are you fucking kidding me? Of course I told them.” the charge nurse gave him a wide look as if not believing he really just asked a stupid question. 

He was a man afterall. 

Robby blew out a breath. “Fuck– okay. When are they–” his question answered when you guys approach. 

“Park.”

It was rare to see you both down here at the same time. Not that it never happened, it was just unexpected. The interns said it felt wrong. like seeing a shark itself in the shallow waters.

You hadn’t even acknowledged robby; passing right by. Brendon barely sparing a nod. 

“Better not have anyone incompetent with my son.” 

Henry looked up when he heard his dad. A wide smile stretching when he saw his mom. 

Your persona was washed off. Not at all caring that you were completely exposed. Out in the open. Your hand caressing his cheek, his smaller one on top. 

“Are you okay?” a quiet ask. eyes watching him as he nods. “I’m okay.” 

A satisfied smile before you press a kiss to his forehead. Squeezing his cheeks in your grasp.

Whitaker and Ogilvie just stared. One not wanting to interrupt and probably too scared to do so, while the other stood with wide eyes. His mouth parted like a fish out of water.

Brendon pressed another kiss to the other side of his head. before his eyes lift to his boy's foot. an ice pack resting on his ankle.

“is he on meds?” Brendon asked as he leaned up. his hand brushing against his son’s hair before pulling gloves out of his scrub pocket. snapping them on.

“500 mg of acetaminophen– 350mg of ibuprofen.” Robby clarified. arms crossed as he nodded.

“iced the area to—” “I’m not blind.”

Whitaker closed his mouth.

“dad.” brendons eyes caught his sons. the boy giving him an unimpressed look that you knew he inherited from the man in front of him. “don’t interrupt.”

your suppress a smile. his words sounded familiar.

brendon cleared his throat. “finish.” gaze on the r1 for a split second before he diverts it.

Whitaker looks to robby, then looks to you then the young boy. he knows now how Ogilvie felt. only this time it was a little more reassuring knowing the kid had his back. he didn’t know if that made him feel better or worse.

“We uh— just iced to reduce the swelling, elevation above heart level. bp now, 105/61, HR 89, 99 on room….” his eyes finding Henry’s. the youngest park giving him a thumbs up.

“xray?” you asked from the side. "dr. robby already had them in order.” whitaker verbalised.

“we’re still waiting to get him in.” the attending intervened quietly. you slowly peeled yourself away from your son. "I'll be back— make sure dad doesn't kill anyone." you joke drily as you leave.

it earns a giggle from the kid.

Ogilvie, who had been surprisingly quiet, turns to where you just left. eyes wide as his head spins. “was she being serious—”

"It was just one time." Henry shrugs.

"One?” Whitaker and Ogilvie echo. Robby’s lips pursing as he watches in amusement. head shaking at how easy it was to reel them in.

the kids lip lifts up at the corner.

“I’m kidding— it was my mom.”

Brendon laughs loudly.

tags - babygirl : @sadisticslut666

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