Work Text:
Samira’s fingers flew over the keyboard of her laptop, typing her essay directly into the application portal. She’d applied to a dizzying number of positions in advance of her R4 year. For each one, she’d wrestled with her materials for weeks, double-checking and tweaking, before carefully copying them into the admissions site.
Her submission for the PTMC ED Teaching Fellowship went differently.
She drafted it at Jack’s dining room table, in his lap, filled up with his cock. They were both naked, his chest radiating heat against her back and the tops of his thighs warm against the backs of hers, her legs draped open around his, feet dangling above the wood flooring. She’d never had a cock as deep inside her as his was right now. It stimulated the entire internal anterior wall of her cunt.
If her mom could sell their home to sail around the world to have a shipboard affair with some random younger man, Samira could apply for a fellowship that would keep her in Pittsburg because the older man she was fucking thought she should.
Besides, it wasn’t like she was actually going to submit this application. Or that she’d be accepted if she did.
She paused in her typing, stressing over the situation with her mother, their house, the job in New Jersey she’d committed to that everyone seemed to have doubts about (including her, something she refused to admit out loud). Her shoulders curled inward, abdomen tensing, and Jack panted into her ear, his hands slipping from her waist down to cup her hips, rocking her back and forth.
“Hold still,” she said sternly. “This was your idea.”
Jack whined and mouthed helplessly at the back of her neck, sucking at her skin.
She could feel herself dripping around him, her arousal leaking out of where he had her split open, her slick sliding down his balls.
The application, at least, had been Jack’s idea.
He’d had the night off and she’d come over after she’d finished her day shift. She’d dutifully ate the the chicken, rice, and vegetables Jack had cooked for her, not really tasting anything, impatient to get to the part of the evening she’d been anticipating all through a slog of a shift; Jack fucking her. After a shower she’d climbed, naked and warm, into his perfectly firm bed.
He’d given her one orgasm with his mouth and then crawled up her body to press inside. It was exactly what she wanted, every thought in her head lost in the rhythm of him thrusting into her, her nails digging into his shoulders and her legs wrapped tight around his waist. It was perfect until he’d braced himself on one arm, cupped her face with his other hand, and said, like he couldn’t help himself, “You should stay in Pittsburgh.”
“I have a job in New Jersey,” she said, petulant. A job she’s been invested in because of the location, not the job itself. She’d turned down a research position on LA for her mother and her mother had upended their plans on a whim.
“Apply for the teaching fellowship and you’d have a job here,” Jack said, stroking his fingers along her cheek, staring at her like there was nothing in the world he’d like more than for her to stick around. “You’re so smart - we’d hate to lose you.”
It was the second time in 12 hours that she had been told to apply for the ED teaching fellowship. Dr. Al had pulled her away for a break at 2 p.m., gave her a PowerBar, and talked about how skilled she was in the ED and the impact she’d already had as a senior resident — doesn’t she want to continue that work?
And now Jack.
She understood why Baran was so invested in her career but she wasn’t sure about Jack’s motivations. She was smart enough to know that a man might want to woman he was fucking to stay local so he could keep getting his dick wet. But she had the majority of her R4 year left — by the time she left for New Jersey surely he’d be bored with her.
Samira pushed him away enough that she had space enough to flip onto her belly, moving quick enough her curls lifted up and brushed across his face.
“I want you to fuck me like this,” she demanded.
“Okay, sweetheart,” he’d said in a soft rasp. He used one knee to spread her thighs a little wider apart and then pressed back inside her, starting to fuck her again, hard, like she liked.
And then he’d kissed her shoulder, the bastard.
He’d brought up the PTMC ED Teaching Fellowship again, over breakfast.
Samira had swallowed around the lump in her throat. Her heart rate increased every time she thought about her next position and everyone bringing up other options just ratched her anxiety higher. She had been in Pittsburg for seven years and she hadn’t put down roots and it was too late now, wasn’t it?
Jack and Samira’s spat continued as Jack cleared the table and then Samira had snapped at him and went to get her laptop and a cock ring.
She slipped the cock ring on, blew him against the kitchen cabinets, and then dragged him over the dining room table. She pushed him into a chair before she mounted him.
She pulled her laptop in front of her and got to work, Jack inside her. Every time she thought this is as deep as he can get he’d stimulate her a little more and she’s sank down further onto his cock while he whined.
Jack was supposed to keep his hands at her waist but of course he couldn’t. He’d rest his hands at her waist for a bit then they’d drift upwards. She pretended not to notice as he cupped her breasts. She kept typing as he felt the weight of them, stroked his callused thumbs around her skin. He grew bolder, stroked his finger tips over her nipples. He slid one hand down her belly, touched wonderingly at where she was stretched open around him, drawing more arousal from her, and she relaxed around him further. Jack choked on his own breath.
She let him pet her there for a little bit longer, until the heat he was stoking grew too distracting, and then she guided his hands back to rest on her waist. She felt a fine tremor as he forced himself to hold still.
He kept his hands there while she drummed her fingers on the table, thinking about what point she wanted to emphasize in her concluding paragraph.
She began to type again.
“You’re so brilliant,” Jack moaned into her ear, clearly reading over her shoulder.
“Yes,” she agreed, because like this, drunk on endorphins and spite, it felt true. She felt brilliant and scalpel-sharp.
With her legs spread wide, the air had dried the hood of her clit a little. She brought Jack’s hand to her mouth, sucked his first two fingers, getting them all slick, and then guided his fingers to her clit. He obediently started tracing circles around her, sparks of pleasure flashing through her body.
Samira scrolled back to the top of her essay, started proof-reading.
She was split open on Jack, his cock kissing her cervix. He bit the shell of her ear, panting, pressing directly on her clit, rolling it under his fingertips. She got even wetter and then he was pressing even deeper into her. If she didn’t know anatomy as well as she did, she’d swear he was nestled between her lungs.
“I’m done,” she said. Which was - sort of true. If she actually decided to submit her application she was certain she’d need to get it out of the text box and into a gdoc where she could properly edit and proofread. But what she meant was—
She tilted her head back. “I want you to fuck me now, Jack.” Her voice was husky, a sex-kitten tone she’d never heard from herself in her life.
Jack obeyed immediately.
He stood up, bent her over the table, and fucked into her, wild and hard. Every stroke bullied her cervix, stimulated her g-spot, and Samira felt her toes and fingertips start to tingle before her climax washed over her, a full-body wave of pleasure that spread from her cunt all through her body. It was too much, pleasure kissing the edge of pain, and Samira slapped her hands onto the table, one landing on the wood and one slamming right down onto her laptop's keyboard.
There was a chime as her application was accepted but she couldn’t hear it, not over Jack panting raggedly in her ear as he came in pulses, ropes of come painting her insides.
Two weeks later, in the middle of a Thursday morning, Robby called her.
It was her day off and she was lying in Jack’s bed, sweat slowly drying on her skin, playing with his dog tags, her head on his chest, Jack’s arm around her.
Her phone rang, the sound loud enough it could be heard through the chaos of the ED or wake her from a REM cycle. She immediately jerked upright.
Jack saw the name on the caller ID and went, “don’t answer,” even as Samira did.
“It’s Dr. Mohan,” she said. “What’s wrong?”
There was a pause. “Nothing’s wrong, Samira,” Robby said, like it was a surprising question to ask, like she wasn’t on her day off and he wasn’t on medical restrictions after a motorcycle accident.
Jack tried to pull her back to rest against him. Instead she slid off the bed, started looking around for her clothes.
“I spoke with the chair of the Pitt Teaching Fellowship Committee. She said you were the most competitive candidate by far,” Robby continued.
Samira froze, standing naked in the middle of Jack’s bedroom. She hadn’t been able to recall and edit her application, so she’d been telling herself that it would be summarily rejected before more than one person saw it. She certainly hadn’t told anyone she’d applied.
She was also starting to feel Jack’s semen dripping out of her.
“Then I called Baran, and she mentioned she’d written you a glowing recommendation. I would have been honored to write you a letter of rec as well,” Robby’s voice was gently chiding as Samira grabbed a t-shirt and wiped his best friend’s spunk off her inner thighs.
Samira opened her mouth and couldn’t find anything to say.
“Luckily, the chair was happy to take my input verbally,” he continued, the words rolling off Robby’s tongue. “I said you’re exactly the kind of doctor the Pitt needs. You’re detail oriented and driven, adaptable and creative.”
“What happened to me being better suited for psychiatry and too slow?” Samira heard herself say.
Robby —who had to be using his pain medication as prescribed or she’d missed a brain tumor — chuckled.
“Yeah, I — I got that one wrong. I’ve seen how you’ve improved in the last ten months and I’ve seen you with the other residents and the interns. You’re a brilliant teacher who pairs praise with correction gracefully, like — Like Adamson did. I wish he could've have seen the doctor you became.” She heard him swallow. “He would have been proud of you.
“And having been your patient.. well. I appreciated having you in my corner.”
Samira felt her knees bend and sat gracelessly on the edge of the bed.
“Thank you,” she managed.
“You should be getting a call about the interview soon,” he finished. “I look forward to continuing to work with you, Dr. Mohan.”
After he’d disconnected, Samira continued to stare at her phone in shock.
On July 4th, two-thirds of the day shift had been lingering, planning to watch the fireworks from the roof.
Samira had been half-heartedly finishing up her charting, trying not to be too distracted by Jack leaning against the counter next to her workstation when the EMT’s had wheeled Robby in, blood pouring down his face, his neck, onto his shoulder.
Jack froze, face going gray, and Dana gasped, one hand going to the cross at her neck.
Samira leapt into action.
“Trauma One,” she directed, running to the side of the gurney.
Treating Robby was a blur. His pupils were unequal and non-reactive, he had an obvious head wound—
“No helmet,” one of the EMTs said and Dana went, “You lied to me, right to my face.”
Samira cut away Robby’s jacket, his scrubs and undershirt. He’d bleed enough that there was blood smeared across his Amor Fati tattoo, his biceps pale.
“We’re gonna need a CT for the head wound…”
Samira palpated along his collarbone and Robby flinched.
“It’s broken,” he said.
“Agreed,” Samira said. “We’ll need X-rays for your collarbone and your right shoulder but I think it’s safe to say that you’ll be needing surgery. Page Walsh, please—”
Neither of them did.
Jack stepped up next to Robby’s bedside.
“What are you doing?” he asked, eyes red, voice rough.
Robby tensed his shoulders, clearly getting ready to argue and flinched even through the painkillers.
Samira elbowed Jack out of the way.
“You’re upsetting my patient,” Samira said.
Dana and Jack both ignored her. Dana’s face was pinched and Jack was swaying on his feet.
“You gonna abandon me too, Robby?” Dana asked, voice cracking. “Leave me to do it all by myself?”
“You are not helping. Get out before I call security,” Samira said in a low tone that brooked no disagreement. They didn’t move.
“Are you gonna make me carry your coffin, brother?” Jack asked
“Both of you, OUT!” Samira yelled.
They went, Dana’s arm going around Jack’s waist, Jack’s arm around her shoulders. She couldn’t tell who was holding who upright.
“Thanks,” Robby said when the door was shut behind them.
“You have a concussion, a broken collarbone, and your left shoulder is dislocated. Dana and Jack will have plenty of time to discuss your life choices after Walsh and Ortho are done with you,” Samira said, going to call them herself.
Robby looked a little less grateful at that.
Now, Samira sat on Jack’s bed in shock.
“Robby said I was the most competitive applicant for PTMC ED Teaching Fellowship,” her voice sounded far away.
Jack nodded. “You are.”
“Dr. Al wrote me a glowing recommendation,” she continued. “I didn’t tell her I applied - did you?”
Jack shook his head, drew her back up the bed to lie down next to him.
“I think she wrote that LOR hoping you’d take her advice and apply,” he said. “I also wrote you a glowing recommendation.”
“Isn’t that a conflict of interest?”
Jack shrugged his shoulders. “I submitted it before we started sleeping together.”
“What?” she asked, still dazed.
“Baran isn’t the only one hoping you’ll stay in Pittsburgh,” Jack said.
Samira stared at the ceiling, let herself really consider it.
She’d told herself that once she was finished with her residency, she’d go back to New Jersey and start the rest of her life. Do all the things she was too busy to do while she was training. Get a hobby, date, finally adopt a cat again. If she stayed in Pittsburgh, she could start all of that now, ten months ahead of schedule.
“I haven’t even interviewed,” she said, tempering the spark of excitement that had kindled in her chest.
“Samira, they’re gonna beg you to take the job,” Jack leaned down and bit her bottom lip gently. “And then I’m gonna beg you to take the job. Or let me follow you to New Jersey.”
Samira reached up, carded her fingers through his sweat-damp curls. “What do you think about getting a cat?”