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“Fuck me, his hands need a mature content warning.” The words took a moment to process. Mel frowned, the meaning taking a moment to fully register. She glanced around. Two medical students stood at the other side of the nurses station. Andrew and Rachel? Mel had been elbow deep in an impalement trauma when they had been introduced. Medical students for sure. As Frank would say they were neon green in their newness. Rachel fanned her face, head craned into one of the bays.
Andrew leaned up on his tip does following his friends gaze. ‘Filthy hands really. Whorish slutty hands.’ Mel glanced around, for once none of the nurses were around to hear this particular titbit. While Mel hated gossip: she was never on the good end of it. This moment felt like she needed someone as backup.
Rachel sighed in that dreamy way teen girls did. Andrew the same. Mel shook off their weird interaction and tried to focus back on her documentation. Unlike Trinity she never failed to get hers done promptly. Not that Mel was smug about it. Every shift Dr Al was after Trinity to catch up. Stressing it would catch her out some day. True that. ‘He’s divorced right?’
‘How could anyone divorce anyone that hot?’ Mel sighed a little. These two really needed to work on their stage whispers. They were here to learn about emergency medicine not goon after someone. Her gut churned. Mel cleared her throat. Both students damn near jumped out of their skin. Yes they had completely missed her sitting right there. Typical.
Mel adjusted her glasses as she peered up at the board. ‘I think Doctor’s Whitaker and Javadi could do with a hand on chairs. Call me if you need any help. Thank you.’ It was nice really. Being an R4. Being able to assign med students to actual work. Especially when they were annoying her. Mel raised her eyebrows at the pair who seemed struck dumb. ‘Chairs is that way.’ Mel pointed over to Dennis and Victoria. ‘Have fun!’
Frank appeared out of the bay just as the pair scuttled off. Mel watched them leave. Just in case they had any ideas. His brow furrowed as he watched them run off. ‘Did I do something?’
‘No. They were being... med students.’ Frank arched an eyebrow at her. His bright eyes sparking with humour. It wasn’t often Mel made comments that could be considered snarky. He was always encouraging her to have a little more fun.
‘Hm.’ He yawned loudly as he sat down next to her. One leg sticking around under hers. He always took up so much room. Not that she ever minded. Even as his knee knocked against her thigh. Out of the corner of her eye she watched as he snagged his swipe card to unlock his PC. He did have really nice hands. Mel had always thought that. But that little voice was now stuck in her head. Nice had morphed into something not nice. His fingers tapping out a quick rhythm on the desk.
Long, thin fingers with extremely neat fingernails. Rarely a hangnail that caught against her clothes or skin. The thought alone had her head snapping to one side. Frank shot her a curious look. She just shrugged praying that her face was tomato red. But he didn’t push it. Just Mel being Mel, if it was something bothering her, she’d say something. It was never hard to talk to him.
But this felt very much outside of the confines of their typical dynamic. Friendship. The words on her screen blurring as her brain catalogued and sorted all the information she’d gathered about his hands. He always needed the largest gloves. The occasional time he had to size down always resulted in him ripping through them in 10 seconds.
Even on that first day they met his hands screamed steadiness to her. Unlike hers which felt so clumsy, unable to move the way she wanted to. His guided hers easily, showed her procedures clearly. Despite knowing what he was going through that day. They didn’t falter. Not once with her around. The only thing that had stood out to Mel that day was the wedding back. For a pair of hands that were so sure and strong, a gold band that was constantly on the threat of flying off. She couldn’t lie to herself. The temptation to ask why it was so big had bounced around in her head. But they barely knew each other then. A connection sure, but Mel understood some questions required foundations to allow for the space to ask.
The PCs were slower than snails at the moment. Post hack IT had been trying to update everything and of course everything was just at a deadlock. So both hands were bouncing on the keyboard. ‘Oh for fucks sake.’ Mel tried to focus on her screen. But it was just a blur. She just could not keep her eyes off the dancing hands.
They were large. His hands. Warm. A ghostly memory of him checking her head injury last year flittered over her skin. Easily spanning most of her head. So careful to not aggravate her aching head even more. Mel needed firm contact not light one. If it was only whisper light it set her off. Frank managed to keep it firm but soft. Never mind the swift tap to her leg before he cleared the room for her.‘You okay there Mel? You seem a little lost in thought?’
She choked on air. So naturally Frank clapped his hand against her back. Of course her brain instantly logged the breath of his hand span against her back. Excessively large. Temptingly so. ‘Mel?’ She just waved him off. He leaned in, trying to catch her watery eyes.
‘Sorry just got one of those annoying thought spirals stuck in my head.’ He wasn’t buying it. Mel wasn’t exactly lying. Just opting to leaving the context out. And they both knew it. How else was she to explain that she’d spent the past ten minutes seriously just thinking about his hands.
One of which was now pressed against her lower back. ‘Okay.’ Even through two layers of clothing his hand felt scorching. It took everything in her not to move. Nothing but a red flag to Frank. ‘Oh finally.’ Relief, sense of loss and a ripple of hot aching flashed through her. Her smart watched buzzed with the spike in her heart rate. Back to work.
--------------
The words refused to leave her brain though. And with them, images stalking her waking and sleeping mind.
Mature content warning.
Explicit. At least in Mel’s head. Conjuring of how his hand would look pressing against her bare skin. Pulling her hair. Tearing off her clothes. His thumb pressing against her-
Her forehead hit the table with a loud thunk. ‘Ouch.’ Samira sat down with a bottle of wine. ‘You okay?’ Mel sat up rubbing at her forehead wearily.
‘My brain is just spiralling.’
Samira poured them both a generous glass. Waiting for Mel to expand. Both women realised that they didn’t have a lot outside of work and their family dynamics. Mel still remembered the absolute blank her mind had pulled when the “cyclist” had asked her what she liked doing. There had been the instant answer about what Becca liked. No you.
Her?
It had been a terrifying thought. Who was she outside of being her sisters sister. The lack of anything coming to mind chilling her to the core. Then she’d been literally knocked senseless. She and Samira had found a certain kinship after Samira accepted her mother just making her own life choices. Making the decision to stay in Pittsburgh. They’d found that it was easy to explore hobbies and events if you had a person to go with. Post divorce Frank tagged along to some as well. But they had a strict girls night. A bottle of wine and a bitch session. No men allowed. Also Frank had accidentally gate crashed once and regretted it. Samira had punished him with a detailed story about Abbot.
‘Mel.’ Strict. But kind. Insistent but not demanding. She knew Mel would cave. That her friend needed to talk to someone. Someone who wasn’t a certain tall dark haired doctor.
Mel groaned slipping back in the booth. Her face flaming red. ‘Okay the med students...’
‘Ah the Langdon fan club.’ Samira’s eye roll was epic. The mooning was obvious even to Mel. Frank did his best to ignore them. Balancing his new attending role, joint custody and his life meant he had good get out of dodge excuses.
‘Yeah. Well they forgot I was within earshot...’ Samira shook her head. ‘Any just they did their usual...’
‘Unprofessional mooning?’
‘Sure. They used this phrase and it won’t leave me alone...’ Samira sipped at her wine. Waiting patiently for Mel to expand. ‘About Frank.’ Samira hmhm’d softly. Mel took a solid gulp of wine. Trying to steady herself. Samira’s dark eyebrows raised up curiously. Genuinely intrigued by this conversation but not pushing Mel. If she wanted to back out there’d be no problem. ‘They said his hands needed a mature content label.’
Samira sipped her glass of wine. Eyes lost in thought. ‘I could see it. I guess. Langdon is not my type.’
‘Too young?’ Mel flinched as Samira shot a well aimed kick to her shin. But they both laughed. Samira and Abbot’s developing thing was no longer news. ‘Sorry.’ Samira did look impressed with her jab. Mel was trying.
Samira gestured at Mel to continue. ‘And I cannot get it out of my head.’
‘Hand porn.’ Mel nodded. That was the most efficient way of putting it. Samira got lost in thought for a few minutes. ‘Now that you say it... he does have nice hands.’
Mel felt a surge of relief. ‘So it’s not weird?’
Samira’s cheeks darkened, her pupils widening. ‘Absolutely not. Nothing better than a man who knows how to use them. Or a woman.’
They both giggled, Samira getting lost in her own thought. Musings. Memories. Fanning herself a little. Mel finished her wine in a couple of gulps. The flush at least could be partially blamed on the alcohol. Instead of her stupid feelings.
‘You makes it sound so reasonable.’
Samira watched Mel fill her last glass with a knowing gleam. ‘You’re in the stupid phase.’ Mel pushed her glasses up with a frown. ‘Of those feelings where you notice that one thing that just shuts down all higher brain functions. Hands are an excellent choice though. Tells you a lot about a guy.’ Samira bit down on her lip. Cheeks darkening even more. ‘Definitely one of the things that I noticed about Jack.’
Reassuring. Samira checked her phone with serious intent. ‘Oh good he’s not on shift tonight.’ Mel giggled.
‘Taking matters into your own hands.’
‘Better not say Langdon gets credit for any orgasms.’
‘Don’t think that would sell very well.’
‘You should tell Langdon though.’
‘About your orgasms?’ If there was precisely one thing she had learned from Frank... It was how to deliver a line with the definition of faux innocence. Doe eyes, blinking slowly, head tilted just a little with raised eyebrows.
‘MELISSA!’
--------------------------
Hand were fascinating. The main way in which people interacted with the world. How they assessed and treated patients. Limbs that could heal or harm, depending on the intent. Even without intend. Mel examined her own hands. Anatomy lessons coming back to her. Working from the bones up. Carpals, metacarpals, phalanges. Breaking those down into their individual groupings. The muscles. Mel tried to ignore the evil voice that commented on how strong Frank’s hands were. Especially in comparison to her much slimmer and smaller ones.
His muscles never seemed to waver. All the groups working together seamlessly. Thenar, hypothenar and metacarpal. Nerves that picked up all sensation. Though her entire nervous picked up every sensation from him. Those signals still danced over her skin. Her back, hand, head, thigh. Overwhelming memories but once she didn’t want to not play out. The veins that Mel had the weirdest impulse to trace with her tongue and teeth.
She’d never had this depth of obsession with previous partners. Yes it was good when they had used their hands with any degree of finesse. Alas the finesse never guaranteed. Mel sat in her usual hiding spot in the stairwell. A patient had cornered her screaming. She’d had to physically push them out of her way to escape. Rattling. So she was trying to calm herself down. Working her way through anatomy as a grounding move. It had worked in a way. She was no longer jittery from the incident. Now her brain was reacting in a very different manner.
Rationally Mel could compartmentalise that in the rush of adrenaline her body was misappropriating her fear into arousal. Moving from a fear reaction into a safer better reaction with someone she always felt safe with. Squeezing her thighs was only adding to rapidly amping want coursing through her.
‘Mel?’ Of course Frank entered the room. Closing the door behind him with a gentle click and dimming the lights. She struggled to loosen her legs. Frank was clearly thinking she was overwhelmed and trying to calm herself down. He wasn’t wrong. But the source of the heightened feelings had rapidly shifted. Frank had grabbed her as she bolted out of the room calling hoola hoop. His hand easily encircling her wrist.
...
He could probably hold both of her wrists with one hand.
Of course the image of his other hand skimming over her body flared.
Frank sat down next to her, careful to not touch her. Mel became aware of the fact that she was humming. Self soothing. So she could understand his interpretation of her being in distress. It was nice. Someone looking out for her. ‘I’m okay.’
‘You don’t need to be.’ Mel frowned. Frank started playing with his bracelet. Her eyes couldn’t move from the rapidly moving digits. Flicking back and forth. She bit down on her inner lip. It was all she could do to not do something stupid.
Like shove his hand down her pants.
She started drawing patterns on her thigh, hoping it would help tamper down her awareness of the heat coming from her. Mel wasn’t sure she had a change of underwear in her locker. And she was far too aware of the growing dampness.
How the fuck was she getting this wet when all Frank had done was hold her wrist. Yes he’d pulled her in close, shielding her from the perceived aggressor. All the alpha behaviour that Mel typically avoided. But apparently like much of all of her previous assumptions Frank Langdon was the exception.
‘You didn’t drive in today did you?’
Mel reacted, bonking her head against the wall behind her. ‘Ow.’ Frank winced apologetically, reaching over and touching the back of her head. It took all her strength not to flinch. He would misinterpret her reaction.
‘God you’re having a day. No goose egg this time.’ He hand stayed at the back of her head. Scratching at her scalp soothingly.
Mel tried to look unaffected, especially as his hand slowly trailed down the back of her head. Tugging a little at her braid. ‘No I didn’t drive. Car is in the shop. Why?’
‘Baran said you can head on early.’ Frank placed his hand on her forearm, effectively muting her protest before she could start. Her brain just unable to process anything other than his skin in contact with her. ‘It’s like 40 minutes from shift change. And things are relatively okay. I’ll drive you home. Okay?’
Frank always ran warm. Addiction or no. In Mel’s stimulated state his hand was burning against hers. There were some callouses along some of his fingers. Years of using scalpels and other surgical tools. But they weren’t rough. Not soft but smooth against hers. ‘I can-’
‘Mel. I’m not asking. Doctors orders.’ Frank shook his head fondly. He tried not to do it often, the ordering her around. But it was effective. She nodded mutely as he stood up. ‘If you wanna grab your stuff I’ll let Baran know.’ At least she could change her underwear when she got home. Mel stared at him over her glasses so he was mostly blurry. But she knew that he was smiling at her in that sweet soft way. The smile that always had Santos rolling her eyes. Adamant that it was only he only had with her. ‘C’mon.’ He offered his hand out to her.
Even though Mel knew this outstretched hand was literally walking temptation. She couldn’t not reach out. Being so close was a beautiful kind of hell, but the thought of not being close to him. That was worse. Ten months without him before they were even friends was tough enough.
Now he was one of her dearest friends. One of her people really.
Her hand felt so tiny in his. Not so much pulling but guiding her to her feet. His left hand cupping her elbow. Sparks sizzled from the points of contact against her skin. ‘Meet you outside in a few?’ She nodded but he didn’t let go of her hand until they left the staff room. A little squeeze before he let go. Darting back out to the Pitt. Yes Mel was hyper aware of him and his movements. To an obsessive degree sometimes. She could swear the hand that held hers flexed as he walked away.
What was that about?
Mel tried to duck out without being noticed. She hated when she felt like she was being treated with kid gloves. Poor Mel always needing help. Things are just too much. You should try an easier discipline. But Baran knew her too well. ‘Glad you are taking my advice. We all forget that any incident no matter how seemingly small does have an impact. Was expecting you to really push back Mel.’
Baran was always direct. Something that worked so well for Mel. There was no grey with her. ‘Frank didn’t really give me a choice.’ Mel shrugged as she tugged her jacket closed. Baran smiled. Mel couldn’t quite figure out what it meant. There was something in it.
Baran and Frank did work well together. From his return to her accepting a full time attending role in the Pitt. Baran taking on much of the administration and modernising aspects Robby didn’t have the time to tackle. Robby kept his role with a focus on the clinical side. Much like Mel and Frank, Baran and him seemed to click fairly quickly. Baran accepting his history. Not without keeping him to account but not holding it against him like Robby had for far too long. Her experience in the VA giving her a deep understanding of the complexities of addiction and recovery. Her data based work combined with Frank’s instinctive knack balanced each out well.
‘You’re off this weekend right? Hanging with Becca?’
Mel shook her head. It was a first for her. ‘No Becca has an away trip with her centre. So I have a full weekend to myself.’
Baran raised her eyebrows. ‘That’s new for you both isn’t it?’ Mel nodded. Touched that Baran remembered so much about her. ‘Wow. That’s exciting. I hope you take full advantage of the time.’ Frank jogged up to them both. Looking eager to get out. Baran winked as she walked away. ‘Have fun!’
‘Ready?’ Mel nodded, watching Baran walking towards Abbot and Samira. ‘Cool.’
Frank loaded some soft acoustics music on the way home. Mel doing her best to pretend that she wasn’t continuing to watch his hands as he drove to her place. The finger tapping constantly at the wheel. On the gear stick. Even the occasional time he stuck his hand out the window, slicing the air with his hand. Something he sometimes referred to as a stim. Enjoying the sensation of cutting the air.
‘Any plans for the weekend? You’re off right?’ Mel asked as they hopped out of the car. Frank grabbing both their backpacks. Frank shook his head.
‘Abby’s taking the kids to her parents.’ A little sigh of relief. ‘That’s one thing that really was a bonus to the divorce. Abby is still pissed she couldn’t have my attendance as part of the custody agreement.’
It could have been a joke, but it also felt like it rang a little true. ‘Her parents are a lot. And an addict ex somehow was her fault.’ Mel winced. Frank nodded, pressing his hand against her back again as she fiddled with the lock. ‘You need to fix that lock Mel.’ It just took a knack to open it. Frank being unaware that his hand was shutting her brain down again. ‘Yeah yeah.’
‘I have time this weekend. I’ll fix it.’ Mel smiled smugly as the door swung open. Frank shook his head. ‘I’m serious.’
‘When are you not.’ Mel dismissed him airily. He was hyper protective of her at times. The locked worked just fine. Just needed a little wiggle and jiggle to get it to open. Nothing major. Mel had been minding herself and Becca for a long time.
He grabbed her elbow, turning her to face him. Stopping her path towards her room. His face deadly serious. ‘I’m not kidding Mel.’
Her first instinct was to pull back, snap at him a little. But that was the forced hyper independence talking not her. ‘I know you’re not. But it’s okay, you don’t need to fix everything. It’s not perfect, but it’s not broken.’
Frank crossed his arms. In that way that hid his hands but drew the eye to his arms. Yes her current obsession had been his hands. But every inch of him was attractive. Annoyingly so. ‘Not that I should read into that statement or anything.’
‘That’s between you and your therapist. Or priest.’ Frank snorted. Mel grinned brightly. He chuckled as he kicked off his shoes. Clearly making himself comfortable.
It was her and Becca’s first Friday ever without their movie tradition. Mel leaned back against her door taking a breath. There was a guilty sense of relief that she didn’t have to watch Elf. That she could just chill out with Frank alone. But it was scary all the same. Her phone buzzed. Becca.
Becca making Mel promise to watch 2 movies of her choice next Friday. She’d gotten off easy. Mel had been expecting to watch Elf twice in a row to make up for lost time. But Becca wasn’t the same. Neither was she. But it was a good change. Mel worked most Friday ands now she was able to decompress with someone she could actually talk to about it.
Mel yanked off her scrubs. Hair crackling with static. Sighing a little in relief as she tossed the sports bra off. She froze as Frank moved around in the kitchen. It was a little weird being almost completely naked and him just a few paces away. Mel needed to get a handle on herself. Catching sight of herself in the mirror. Flushed from her chest up. Tits heavy with hardened nipples. The wet patch on her underwear obvious. They stuck to her skin as she tried to pull them off.
Her body was on fire. But there wasn’t much she could do right now. Her typical solution of getting herself off until her brain shut off wasn’t doable right now. Not as his humming became obvious. Fuck, usually when she was like this. Burning under her skin. Overstimulated she wouldn’t bother with clothes. Even the lightest cotton too much against her skin. But Frank was in a hovering mood.
‘Pizza?’ He called out. Mel stared at her naked reflection.
‘Yeah please.’
‘Cool cool cool.’
She had literally just had a conversation with him, naked. Mel needed to get a hold of herself. Frank knew her order. Had it saved in his phone a few months after his return. She frantically dug around her her least irritating lounge clothes. Cotton soft tank top and shorts. Black. So any dampness wouldn’t be obvious. And a flannel shirt to hid the obvious nipples.
‘Food’s on the way.’ Mel stared at the TV. Frank stretched out on the couch. Legs splayed out under besides the coffee table. His face upside down as he grinned up at her manically.
‘You’re fucking with me.’ He cackled loudly. Elf queued up on her TV. Mel picked up the softest cushion and beat him round the head with it. ‘You jerk.’
Frank pulled the cushion out of her hands easily, still laughing at her faux outrage. ‘Hey I promised Becca I would suggest it. Not that I’d make you’d watch it.’
Mel threw herself in the corner, keeping as far away from him as possible. ‘You’re paying for dinner.’ Like that had any effect. Frank never took payment for food unless Mel tricked him. He liked treating people to things. Not that he talked about it much but he had more resources than most doctors at his stage of his career. Something about lucky investments in friends startups back in college.
Frank had sent an image of the TV and Mel pouting in the corner to the Kings (Plus Frank) group chat. Becca replied with a booming laugh voice note.
Mel flicked on a random movie. Something mindless for them to shut down over. Yes she’d started in her corner. Out of petty protest. Also in the false hope any bit of distance would keep her urges in check. But Frank refused to let that stay. Pulling her into his side after they finished their pizzas. Mel dozed in and out. Today had been okay, but the week had been intense. Several massive traumas every day.
She managed to keep her hands mostly to herself. T-rex arms tucked under her chin, nestled into his side. Hips and legs sprawled out on the couch. No risk of him finding the evidence accidentally. But of course his hands were never still. His left hand tapping to the rhythm of the music. The other was toying with ends of her brain. Tugging a little more than he typically did. Pleasant warmth flooded from her scalp down through her body. More relaxing than arousing but still heat. Her hair tie snapped off with a loud cracking noise.
Oh.
Frank undid her braid easily. Combing out her hair slowly, de-tangling what he could single-handedly. Her entire focus centred around his hand burried in her hair. Scratching at her scalp like he had earlier. Only with loose hair he was able to get much more access. She hummed happily, letting herself absorb as much comfort as she could.
His other hand moved down onto his thigh, continuing to tap and move. The TV switched off and they continued to cuddle on the couch. Mel just watched his fingers dance. But it was less out of surplus energy but seem more deliberate. Her phone rang.
Becca’s ring tone. It took effort to sit up and grab her phone. ‘Hey Becca. You okay?’ Becca couldn’t speak. It was a lot of change over one night. One weekend. She was miles from when they first moved to Pittsburgh but this was bigger. Mel pressed a hand to the received, turning to Frank. ‘I’m going to take this in the other room.’ Frank smiled softly, a little sadly.
Becca was panicking a little. Feeling guilty for betraying the King tradition. Mel softly talked her through it, staring out her open bedroom door. Doing her best to reassure her. Traditions changed and grew all the time. Mel even saying that she had Frank had pizza in her honour. It seemed like a Frank move. Not that Mel twigged it until talking to Becca.
It only took a little while to calm her sister down. Making her promise to get her and Frank matching ears. It would be embarrassing no doubt. But anything for her sister. Mel sat on her bed. Watching Frank’s shadow moving around again. Mel wasn’t as outwardly affected as Becca was. But the lack of Friday Night tradition was a big shift. ‘Hey.’ Frank leaned against her door frame. Not coming in. But just at the edge of it.
‘Hi.’ Mel blinked at the dark phone screen.
‘You okay?’ Frank made it a point to ask about Mel first. He had for a long time. Not that Becca was important to him. They were really good friends. But Frank was Mel’s. Not Becca’s. Mel shrugged. ‘Can I...?’ It seemed he wasn’t sure how to ask. If he should ask. She nodded.
Frank glanced around. He’d never seen inside her room before. Mel was glad that she’d cleaned it yesterday after shift. And certain things were hidden in her drawer. He sat down next to her, not touching her. But close enough she could feel his warmth. ‘Mel?’
‘I’m okay. Becca’s struggling more with not have Friday night tradition. But she’ll get through it. Might actually have to watch Elf twice through next week.’
Frank nudged her shoulder with his. ‘Well you can bitch at me all you like throughout.’ Mel smiled a little. ‘How are you doing without it?’
Mel wrapped her arms around herself. ‘Mostly okay. I’m not going to lie. It’s a relief to not have to watch that fucking movie for once. But it’s weird. We’ve been doing that every Friday since...’ She swallowed heavily. Neither King sister talked about the origins much. ‘Since Dad died.’ She wrung her hand, trying to settle her conflicting feelings. Frank pulled her in for a hug. The deep pressure ones that really help settle her overwhelming emotions. Once again one hand digging into her hair.
‘Better?’ Mel nodded burying her face into his shoulder. It was slightly easier to hug him sitting down. She could hide in the crook of his neck. Usually it was in chest, which was nice but this felt a little better. His hand slipped under her flannel and stroked up and down her back. She pulled back, feeling a lot steadier. Becca had texted her usual goodnight text. Clearly both Kings were back in check.
‘Thanks.’
‘Any time.’ Frank glanced around again. Extremely curious about her room for some reason. Mel realised with dawning horror that the underwear she’d stripped off earlier. Light grey marl were like a shinning beacon on the top of her hamper. And still damp. She could see the dark grey spot even in the dim light of her room. If she bolted towards it, he’d see it. But knowing how observant he was... it was probably a loosing battle. So Mel just sat on the bed. Hands sitting in her lap. Resisting every urge to stim. Internally she cursed Frank Langdon for understanding her so innately.
‘It’s getting late.’ He commented, fatigue obvious in his voice.
Mel blinked slowly. ‘You can stay. The guest room is practically yours at this stage. You don’t have to ask.’ Frank huffed a little laugh.
‘Thanks Mel.’ He made to stand up, but not before his hand landed on her bare thigh. Squeezing a little. Her gasp ripped through the room. Frank’s bright blue eyes flashed with horror before her legs clamped shut, trapping his fingers. It hadn’t been a conscious thing. The simmering need that had been haunting her for weeks, months if not years finally snapping. Mel had thought his hand was large before.
On her bare thigh his hand looked huge.
His pinkie finger was almost pressed up against her. She could see it in his face the recognition of the damp material of her shorts. His usual clear blue eyes darkening. Earlier when the patient had her cornered. Adrenaline had rocketed through her nervous system. Setting all her instincts on fire. It was a similar feeling now but so much deeper, somehow even more dangerous.
Frank moved to his knees in front of her. Not pulling his hand free. It looked like an awful angle. For his hand. She opened her legs a little, just enough to give him the option to move if he wanted to. His eyes roved over her face. He moved his hand. Mel’s whimper of protest was cut off as he placed his hand on both her thighs. ‘Mel.’ The pitch of his voice was much deeper than usual.
Words failed her. She placed her hands on tops of his. Pressing down. Trying to tell him the things her mouth was failing to. He squeezed again but this felt different. Firmer, harder, with intent. Her hands moved to his shoulders, watching his face for all the new things she was seeing. The blue eyes that never failed to see her, find her in a room almost electric bright as he stared back at her unblinkingly. Both his hands moved around her thighs, brushing under the edge of her short. Trailing just under her ass. Then he yanked her, hard. Pulling her to the edge of the bed. Damn near making her fall onto him. Her yelp was half laughter, half pure want.
‘Mel. Tell me what you want.’ He straightened up, face leaning in close to her. Not quite making contact with her. Pulling back as she tried to cross the distance. ‘Mel.’ His voice was as dark as the night sky surrounding them. ‘I need you to tell me what you want.’
He needed the words.
Maybe she did too.
Weirdly given how her voice had failed her barely moments ago. Now it was a strong and clear as it ever had been. ‘You. I need you.’
He didn’t bother taking her glasses off. Apparently too impatient to wait. Lips crashing against hers. Groaning Mel dug her hands into his hair. As she’d been dying to for months. At least. His returning answer was gratifying. Any protest about further injury dying almost as soon as they popped into her head as he manoeuvred to hover over her. Refusing to break the kiss for even a moment.
His hands were fucking everywhere. Her hair, face, legs, yanking the flannel shirt off with an impatient grunt. One of the best things, about this, besides everything was that he wasn’t treating her like she was made of glass. Mel was used to people being careful with her. That she needed to be sheltered and protected. A delicate touch. Frank didn’t. She was going to be marked, if not bruised tomorrow. The thought alone had her whimpering again. He rolled them over so she was fully siting in his lap. He sat up, pressing his forehead against her. His hands lifted off her waist. Immediately Mel clamped them back down against her. Frank chuckle rippled through her. Knowing and smug.
Well she couldn’t stand for that. Him thinking he had her. Mel threw her hair back as she rocked her hips into his. Even through she still had her shorts on, her angle was dead on. Catching his dick right at her clit. They both swore at the rippling sensation.
His hair was standing at all ends. From her hands. Hers was probably a tangled mess. But the look on his face, flushed. Mouth open with swollen lips. The bright blue of his eyes nearly obliterated by his blown pupils. She pressed her fingers against her neck. Heart rate just as out of control as hers. ‘Me huh?’ Mel laughed at his slightly mystified words.
‘Was there anyone else?’
Frank hmm’d thoughtfully, hands sneaking under her tank top. ‘There was that patient July 4th.’
Mel rolled her eyes. ‘The one who sent me flying to the floor?’
Franks thumbs traced along the sides of her tits. ‘It was a bold move. Took "sweeping her off her feet" a little too literally I suppose.’
‘Head injuries are not sexy.’
‘I dunno you being stubbornly adamant about being fine was... something.’
Mel started to laugh but got quickly cut off as Frank bit down on a spot on her neck. The dream Frank that her brain had conjured up had nothing on the reality. Dream Frank rushed to get the both off. Obviously her needs taking control of the narrative. The real Frank paced himself, not so slow as to be frustrating but not rushing. Taking pleasure out of spinning her out of control. Smirking as she groaned. Twisting and pulling her nipples. The tremors of pleasure shooting straight down to her clit like lightning. Impatiently she yanked off her shirt.
‘Fuck.’ It sounded almost like a prayer. Not sharp but reverent. ‘Look at you. Fuck me.’
‘Yes please.’
Mel hurriedly pulled at his t-shirt. Both of them laughing at her polite request. ‘So nice and sweet.’ Frank yanked her down against him again. But thrust up against her. Mel swore loudly. Very glad that she had no neighbours to overhear the noise. She could feel the bruises starting to bloom around her hips. Where he was holding her in place. ‘But you’ve not been very nice or sweet lately... have you?’
She didn’t have the ability to talk. Frank so efficiently cutting off her ability to think let alone speak. ‘Thought you were being so sneaky. Watching me. Didn’t think I’d notice.’ He gripped into her hair again, pulling back with a forceful but not painful yank. ‘Right?’
Of course he was just as chatting when it came to sex as he was about everything else. Demanding answers. Expecting her to perform well. She nodded as best she could. ‘What exactly did I notice Doctor King?’
Ah crap.
‘W-watching.’
Frank who had been nipping his way down her chest stopped dead. ‘Okay I am going to make this very clear. You don’t answer or try being evasive. I stop. You tell me what I want to hear and I give you what you want.’
Of course. Demanding in all things. Frank raised an eyebrow. Barely reacting as she scratched at his chest. ‘You.’ A feathery light kiss placed at the top of one of her tits. Sweet but not enough. Her answer was close but not the full truth. ‘Your hands.’ She sighed in relief as he rewarded her by wrapping his lips around her nipple. More lightning dancing under her skin. He hummed happily, earning her a pull with his teeth. ‘I’ve been watching your hands.’ Under the guise of learning.
‘Hmhm.’ His hands, both of them toyed with the hem of her shorts. Moving them up and down. Teasingly.
‘Gah.’ His finger inched under the cotton and back out again. Evil. ‘Always so steady, never wavering... Big.’
Frank pulled back with a smirk. If she had any functional neurons left she would have retorted with some disparaging comment. Size of extremities not being of any relevance to others. Obviously not accurate for Frank as the evidence between her legs was sizeable.
‘Ahhh yes.’ He leaned back, keeping her from following him. ‘What did those two say... mature content hands. May I assume that resonated with you?’
Of course he had heard the comment. His hearing was the most acute in the department. He knew more than any of the nurses on any given day. And he understood well enough to recognise her jealousy. The way she shooed them out of his vicinity. Staking her claim in a way. She was sick of teasing. He’d been teasing her for weeks.
‘Fraaaank enough talking or I will sort myself out.’
With a growl that once again rocketed through her entire being. He flipped her and ripped her shorts off. ‘I’m going to hold you to that-’ Frank watching her- as he always did but- in a very way. If she had been wearing underwear they’d be soaked through by now. And they both knew it. ‘Bookmark that idea. But question, how long have you been like this?’
Finally, finally. Fucking finally his right hand cupped her. More than enough hand span to cover her entirely. Her hips bucked involuntarily. ‘Since- since you grabbed me.’ She stuttered and stammered out. His kiss was bruising and intense. His hands felt large just against her skin, but as he eased one finger in. A very different feeling when inside her.
Frank was watching every reaction in her. ‘You’re doing so good sweetheart.’ Not whisper, but hushed into her ear.
Mel panted, whining and other noises she couldn’t classify. Good it was good but she needed more. He played with her. Driving her further towards that edge. But not giving her enough to send her flying. ‘More, more, more.’
The thing about her brain was that a lot of the world overwhelmed her and she needed out. To run and settle herself. But when it came to sex she was greedy. And Frank was more than happy oblige her needs. A second and third following in quick succession. It was better than any of her fantasies or dreams. Becuase it was real. And Frank voice was in her ear. Constantly praising her. Telling her how good she was. Doing so good. Felt so good. With a perfectly timed twist she shattered.
Mel blearily woke the next morning. A heavy body half draped over hers. She snuggled in, pulling them over her. Weighted blankets didn’t really work for her. The human version were the best comfort. Frank murmured in her neck, hand gripping onto her thigh. She was sore everywhere. Lost count of orgasm after number 7. Her muscles ached and patched of beard burn buzzed from nearly every part of her. The good kind. One that meant she was going to be going to be relaxed for the entirety of the weekend.
‘Mornin.’ One of Mel’s favourite things, outside of his hands was his voice. Always so good at calming her down, reaching her when she needed something to cling to. It was even better hoarse after hours of describing in exact detail everything he wanted to do to her. And following through. Mel now had many, many more favourite things to add to her list. He kissed her slowly, sweetly. Not letting her protest about morning breath stop him.
He leaned up on his forearms, eyes skimming over her in the morning light. ‘Hmm I could get used to seeing this every day.’ Mel glanced down at them both. Their mutually pale skin alight with red, purples and blue. It felt like art. She grinned at the bit mark that she’d apparently left right by his tattoo.
Rationally Mel knew that she’d feel better after a shower but they had all weekend. So instead she hiked her leg up around his hip. ‘I think we should.’
Frank smirked dangerously, throwing her leg off with a flick of his. ‘There’s one thing I didn’t do last night... Criminal really.’ Frank followed the red nip and bite marks down her body. ‘And I have it on fairly good authority I’m pretty fucking amazing at it.’ She hummed happily. Frank had mentioned repeatedly how much he’d wanted to go down on her. But they’d gotten distracted. Repeatedly. ‘God you are so fucking pretty everywhere.’ He’d twigged onto her praise kink almost immediately. But he had one too so it all worked out.
Her hands gripped his shoulders and tried to direct him. His eyes flashed brightly at her. ‘Hands on the headboard or in my hair. No where else.’ Instantly her hands were on the headboard. He rewarded her with an obscene swipe of his tongue along her cunt. ‘Good girl.’ His left hand kept one of her legs wide up. The other deliberately pressing down on her stomach. Spread wide. ‘Keep your eyes on me.’
Oh god she was so screwed.
Hands: mature content rating.
Frank Langdon’s tongue: was there something above explicit?