Work Text:
It’s a testament to her patience that she lasts three days before she finally caves and just asks.
“Do you know when Dr. Langdon is coming back?”
It tumbles out her mouth awkwardly, too fast and too nervous, though she’s not ready to analyze why exactly that is. She can feel Perlah perk up from behind her where she’s sitting at the nursing station, listening for Dr. Robby’s response as well.
Her attending doesn’t meet her eyes, but his jaw ticks, clearly annoyed.
“He’s uh, taking some time.”
“Time?” Mel repeats. “Like a vacation?”
“It’s personal, Dr. King,” Robby clips and Mel's palms go hot all over. He looks at her and then up at the board pointedly. “Those lab results should be back for Mr. Edwards by now.”
It’s a clear dismissal and Mel nods, jerky and more confused than ever, her sneakers squeaking as she retreats from the central hub. There’s a million questions that float through her mind: Would he be back soon? Is he somewhere with his family? Is it an emergency or something planned? Is he okay? Are his kids okay? Is it because of Pittfest? Is that why he didn’t say goodbye? Because he was so upset?
There’s an odd question though, that sinks into the back of her skull and latches deep into the tissue, spreading like a virus before she can reel it back in:
Why didn’t he tell me?
***
It takes her less than a minute to find Dr. Langdon’s facebook account.
She had remembered seeing his first name on his badge, and by some small bout of luck, or localized geofencing and shared place of work linked to both of their accounts, Dr. Langdon appears at the very top of the search bar where she typed in his name.
The account is private, which is unsurprising since he has small children, nowhere to be seen in his profile picture (a candid selfie that looks like it was from college) or his header (a blown out picture of the Penguins hockey team).
Her thumb hovers over the friend request button, hoodie string in between her teeth, her phone light and Dr. Langdon’s smiling face the only thing illuminating the darkness of her bedroom.
It’s not weird.
They talked a lot that day—he told her she was doing a good job. Repeatedly. That she taught him a few things. He joked with her. Smiled at her. He was nice. He is nice. She thinks. Hopes. Wanting to be his friend after all that isn’t… it’s normal.
Mel taps the button.
And waits.
And waits.
And waits.
***
Frank Langdon has accepted your friend request!
***
Oh.
That was… Mel sits up in bed and glances at the time. Why is he awake too?
She nibbles on the string in her mouth and clicks his profile again, a barrage of new pictures flooding her screen. Mel takes them in greedily and notes immediately that there’s nothing from the past three years posted. The most recent is a picture of an ultrasound captioned with an achingly adorable:‘There’s a pretty Penny on the way!’. Further down his page, past several tagged photos of him at varying family events, shows one of Dr. Langdon in the hospital holding a baby, eyes crinkled in a smile hidden behind a face mask captioned to let everyone know: ‘Tanner Langdon finally gave me a viable excuse for all my bad dad jokes’.
Most of his pictures are from college or his wedding, which is a frankly huge album that his wife, Abby, she learns, her name is Abby, has shared with him. She doesn’t click on that album but does click on her profile, only to find it as locked down as Dr. Langdon’s. Again, unsurprising, but annoying, and surely requesting to follow his wife’s account would be a step too far. Surely.
Mel’s clicking through pictures of Dr. Langdon’s medical school graduation when a message pops up within the app.
Frank Langdon: Hey.
Sent: 1:24AM
Mel, for all her intelligence, just stares.
Frank Langdon: How are you?
Sent 1:24AM
Right.
Right.
Melissa King: Hi Dr. Langdon! I’m good, thank you!
Sent: 1:26AM
She types. Deletes. Types again.
I hope this was okay. Are you okay? Thanks for friending me back so quickly. Are you coming back to work soon?
Frank Langdon: That’s good. I’m glad.
Sent: 1:27AM
Frank Langdon: Have you heard anything?
Sent: 1:27AM
She frowns.
Melissa King: Heard anything?
Sent: 1:28AM
Frank Langdon: About me. Why I’m gone.
Sent 1:28AM
Melissa King: Oh, not completely? I asked Dr. Robby and he said you were taking some personal time.
Sent: 1:29AM
Frank Langdon: Right.
Sent: 1:29AM
Her hoodie string is completely torn to shreds.
Melissa King: Is everything okay?
Sent: 1:31AM
Frank Langdon: It’s fine, Mel. I gotta head to bed. I’ll talk to you soon, yeah?
Sent: 1:32AM
Melissa King: Okay! Talk to you soon! Goodnight!
Sent: 1:32AM
He hearts the message and Mel stares at that far too long, her eyes growing warm until eventually, sleep takes her too.
***
You have two new messages from Frank Langdon!
Frank Langdon: I’m checking into rehab. That’s why I’m not at work.
Sent: 3:22AM
Frank Langdon: I’m really sorry, Mel. I would’ve liked to work with you more.
Sent: 3:58AM
***
Rehab.
He’s in rehab.
It makes her late to work, these messages, her inability to articulate a proper response back to him.
Part of her feels like she’s been handed live ammunition, that one of her coworkers is going to look at her a certain way and it’s just going to go off and explode all over the entire ER. No one is saying anything about Dr. Langdon’s absence, at least not out in the open, but certainly Robby knows. Personal. Yes, going into a rehabilitation program is fairly personal.
Her phone scorches a hole in her pocket through each case she works and her cheek feels numb for how much she’s bitten at it. She knows what she wants to say to him, that part isn’t hard, not really. She’s just not sure how to say it. To let him know that he’s supported, sure, but that mostly she’s just… grateful. That he chose her of all people to tell. She wonders what that means. If anything.
When she finds a second, an escape to the ambulance bay, she finally opens up the messenger app, not wanting to leave him unanswered for too long.
Melissa King: Thank you for telling me. I hope you’re doing okay (even though it’s okay to not be okay) and if you want to talk to me about anything I’m here. And I’m sorry for the delayed response, I was running late to work. Thanks again, for letting me know and trusting me with this.
Sent: 11:09AM
There.
Mel pockets her phone, exhales, and goes back inside.
***
You have four new messages from Frank Langdon!
Frank Langdon: Thanks Mel.
Sent: 11:34PM
Frank Langdon: I really don’t want to bother you.
Sent: 11:47PM
Frank Langdon: Apparently I’ll have limited time on my phone so my messages may be sporadic.
Sent: 12:45AM
Frank Langdon: Sorry again. I hope your shift was okay. I’ll talk to you soon, I hope.
Sent: 1:51AM
***
She responds back after she turns off her morning alarm.
Melissa King: You’re not bothering me. My shift was okay, thanks for checking. Terrence came back into the hospital, do you remember him? He sprained his wrist this time. I didn’t realize how hazardous table tennis was. Do you know how long your treatment program is? Talk to you soon.
Sent: 5:20AM
She rolls over in her bed and clicks on an album he’s tagged in for his older brother’s wedding.
He looks good in a suit.
***
Mel doesn’t hear from him for two and half weeks.
Withdrawal from alcohol wouldn’t be that long; she wonders what he was taking, if it would be appropriate to ask.
She hopes he’s doing okay.
***
You have six new messages from Frank Langdon!
Frank Langdon: Hey Mel.
Sent: 7:30AM
Frank Langdon: Sorry it took me so long to respond, they took my phone. For good reason. Being a doctor who wants drugs it’s like… so easy to get drugs.
Sent: 7:33AM
Frank Langdon: Don’t ever get me any drugs.
Sent: 7:34AM
Frank Langdon: Not that you would get me drugs. I’m just putting that out there.
Sent: 7:34AM
Frank Langdon: Sorry I think I forgot how to talk like a normal fucking person.
Sent: 7:34AM
Frank Langdon: That sucks about Terrence, I hope he can still play, I think he had a big game coming up. You were really great with him, I’m sure you were again. How is work going? You still crushing it? And my treatment program is 60 days. Tons of therapy. And shitty food. And annoying people that also don’t think they have a problem. And horses. They have horses here, do you like horses? The horses are pretty cool. That part's okay. Talk to you soon.
Sent: 7:48AM
***
Melissa King: Hi Dr. Langdon! I’m glad you’re doing better. And I promise I will never get you drugs for personal use. 60 days is a long time… are you coming back to work after? Work is okay. Things have been so different without you.
Sent: 8:08AM
Melissa King: And yes, I like horses.
Sent: 8:09AM
***
A parking garage collapses right at 5PM and she spends twenty-two hours in the hospital. There are breaks and naps and food she eats but doesn’t really taste. A lot of people die, Dr. Walsh snaps at her at hour eleven, she loses a patient at hour fifteen that she thought would be fine, and then another at twenty-one right before Dr. Robby tells her to head home.
Becca can tell something is wrong but doesn’t pry. She makes Mel the green tea she likes for after she emerges from the shower and gives her three extra blankets from her own bed so she can properly cocoon herself.
When she’s alone she allows herself to cry, to curl in on herself and let the weight of the day sink into her.
Arguably, it wasn’t as bad as Pittfest. They didn’t run out of resources and plenty of doctors were on staff to help. Even so, she couldn’t help but notice how large his absence felt. She always felt it, an odd ache to have after only having him for one day, but there was a calmness he brought her in the chaos, a steadiness she was lacking today that made her uncomfortable. She couldn’t turn to anyone else for the support she was looking for, they didn’t really… like her.
She pulls out her phone and stares at her last unread message. Mel’s sure he was busy, or maybe they just took his phone.
Melissa King: Sorry to bother you again. Today was a really bad shift and I feel guilty for wanting you there. I hope you’re doing okay. Talk soon?
Sent: 1:42AM
***
You have two new messages from Frank Langdon!
Frank Langdon: Hey Mel. Sorry I didn’t answer sooner. Things have been… hard. I’m really sorry your shift was bad, I just looked up the news and I really am sorry. Those days are always the hardest. Don’t feel guilty. I wish I was there too. I'm sure you did great though.
Sent: 7:32AM
Frank Langdon: Would you want to talk about it in person? My caseworker says I’m allowed visitors starting this week. See you soon?
Sent: 7:47AM
***
Dr. Langdon’s rehabilitation facility is nearly two hours outside of Pittsburgh on a huge secluded piece of farmland just shy of the West Virginian border.
It’s warmer than she imagined—couches and people lounged inside the front foyer, some chatting, a woman reading in the corner, another two in a rather intense game of checkers. There’s an older woman sitting at a large oak desk, typing at a computer and Mel approaches, hiking her tote bag higher on her shoulder.
“Hello,” Mel greets nervously. “I’m um, here to see Frank Langdon?”
The woman glances up at her and huffs, smiling slightly.
“You must be Mel,” she says. “He’s waiting for you in the sunroom, let’s get you checked in. Can I have your ID?”
“Oh.”
Mel produces her ID and hands it over, allowing one of the security guards to poke through her bag while the clerk processes her in their system. Her bag is handed back to her and the clerk stands, motioning for her to follow her deeper into the building. People pass them through the hallways and Mel fights off the battle occurring within her nervous system that wants her to have a panic attack right here in the hallway. They come up to a set of french doors and the woman leads them inside, revealing Dr. Langdon to her when she steps aside.
He’s sitting by the window in a big, comfortable looking arm chair, his knee bouncing repeatedly and his hands squeezed together, a coffee and a book abandoned on the side table, his eyes cast towards the glass and to the little pond that sits out there. His hair is combed back instead of all over his forehead like she remembers from their shared shift, and he's wearing a pair of black joggers and soft looking grey shirt with the neck hole slightly stretched after one too many wears. She feels a little overdressed in her jeans all of a sudden and wishes she would’ve asked him prior to coming what she should’ve worn.
“Frank, your visitor is here.”
He snaps his attention to her and Mel feels like the floor’s been swept out from under her, unable to get her brain to compute fast enough to make her feet move towards him, barely aware of the clerk leaving them alone. For a second they just stare at each other and then Dr. Langdon is standing, so quickly his shin knocks into the coffee table and jostles the potted plant sitting in the center, but he bypasses it, closing the gap between them in just a few strides.
“Mel, you came.”
She has to crane her neck slightly to meet his gaze (was he always this tall?) and she shrugs, smiling nervously.
“We decided on this day,” she reminds him, “It was my only day off and we—”
“Mel,” he interrupts with a hand on her shoulder that, to her surprise, doesn’t startle her. Instead, she takes a breath, and settles underneath the warmth of his palm. “I know we did, do you um, can we sit?”
She nods her head and follows him over to the little corner he’s been occupying, sitting across from him in the armchair opposite him.
“How are—”
“Thanks for—”
They both stop and his mouth does something funny, a smile and yet not, and then he shakes his head.
“You go.”
“Oh,” she says, fidgeting with her hands in her lap, “How are you feeling? You look um, you look like you’re doing well? And this um,” she looks around the room and then back at him, “This place seems nice, it’s… cozy.”
“Yeah,” he huffs, laughing slightly. “It could be worse. And I uh, yeah, I’m okay. Just taking it one day at a time, I guess?”
He scratches at his chin, eyes breaking off to stare off to the side.
“I hope the drive wasn’t too bad, I really, um,” he swallows. “I’m really glad you came. It’s good to see you.”
“It was fine,” Mel tells him. “I finally got to catch up on this audio book I’d been meaning to finish and the view wasn’t so bad after I got out of the city.”
“Oh, yeah?” he perks up, “What about?”
“Um,” Mel squirms, “It was… well, it was a romance book?”
His eyebrows raise and the corner of his mouth lifts, making Mel’s cheek’s heat.
“Really? You didn’t strike me as a romance reader.”
“Right, um, well…”
“It’s not a bad thing,” he rushes. He leans forward enough that if he were to go any further he’d fall out of the seat completely and his knee almost brushes hers. She wonders if he notices. “Just a surprise. I don’t know, I guess there were certain things my brain was putting together when I was thinking about you since we still don’t know each other that well. Is that weird?”
“You thought about me?”
“Sure,” he shrugs, like it was obvious. “You were fun to work with. You’re smart and I don’t know, I think we made a pretty good team.”
“We did,” Mel agrees quickly. She shuffles towards the end of her own chair and when her knee hits his, she leaves it there. “You’re coming back, right Dr. Langdon?”
“Mel, you can call me by my first name, I think we’re there.”
“Okay, sure, but you’re coming back?” she reiterates. “Right?”
Frank puts his hands together and for the first time since they sat down, she notices he’s wearing his wedding ring. He fiddles with it on his finger while his eyes dart around her face.
“I hope so,” he finally answers. “That’s the plan.”
“Good,” Mel breathes. “That’s really good. Not that… I know your recovery is important, and obviously if working in the emergency department hindered that I wouldn’t want you to do something that could get in the way of your sobriety, but I just really… there’s not really anyone there that—”
“If they let me come back, I’m coming back,” he interrupts gently. Mel nods her head and squeezes her hands together. Frank follows the movement and then tilts his head. “Do you want to go pet some horses?”
“Pet… Um, okay. Sure,” Mel manages, trying to catch up to the sudden topic change. “That sounds nice.”
"Cool.”
Frank stands and Mel follows suit, leaving her bag on the chair. There’s a set of doors she hadn’t noticed earlier nestled towards the back of the sunroom that he leads them out of, fresh air cool on her skin to combat the wave of nerves still traveling throughout her body.
Despite the setting, despite their clothes, and despite everything about the situation in its entirety, for a moment, if Mel pretends hard enough, she can picture them walking side by side in the busy ER.
He glances at her and smiles, rubbing at the back of his neck while she imagines him holding onto his stethoscope.
Frank’s going to come back.
He has to.
***
You have four new messages from Frank Langdon!
Frank Langdon: Thanks for coming again. I know I said that already but seriously thank you.
Sent: 5:08PM
Frank Langdon: It was really good to see you.
Sent: 5:09PM
Frank Langdon: And thanks for the gummy bears. How did you know those were my favorite?
Sent: 5:10PM
Frank Langdon: I know the drive is long but if you ever want to come back I wouldn’t say no. No pressure though. Talk to you soon Mel. Thanks again. Seriously.
Sent: 5:46PM
***
You have three new messages from Frank Langdon!
Frank Langdon: You didn’t take the gas money I left you, do you have a venmo?
Sent: 4:40PM
Frank Langdon: This book you gave me is bad. Like really bad. There’s no way you’ve read this six times. I’m sorry but now you HAVE to come back because I can’t keep reading this.
Sent: 4:41PM
Frank Langdon: That was a joke. But not really. See you soon?
Sent: 4:42PM
***
You have five new messages from Frank Langdon!
Frank Langdon: Mel this book is also bad.
Sent: 5:54PM
Frank Langdon: I feel like you’re playing a joke on me. But I’m NOT laughing.
Sent: 5:54PM
Frank Langdon: Okay that’s a lie. I am laughing.
Sent: 5:54PM
Frank Langdon: Tony (the guy you beat at scrabble) asked what I was laughing at and then said I was acting like a girl with a crush. Which is just rude.
Sent: 5:56PM
Frank Langdon: And yes, if you want to pick me up next week that would be really cool. Thanks for asking and thanks for coming all the time. See you soon.
Sent: 5:57PM
***
You have one new message from Frank Langdon!
Frank Langdon: Be out in 5 minutes. :)!!!
Sent: 6:37PM
***
Mel waits outside, bouncing on the balls of her feet while she repeatedly checks the time on her phone.
Not for the first time does she wonder if this is a mistake. When Frank told her Abby hadn’t been visiting and he was probably going to have to call his brother in Ohio to come pick him up, the offer had tumbled out of her mouth before she had a chance to draw it back in.
She had to take Dr. Collins’ upcoming night shift so she’d have the day off tomorrow to be here now and was just grateful Dr. Robby didn’t ask her any questions this morning when she told him she would need to leave a few hours early. She knew Frank hadn’t heard from anyone else while he was here so it wasn’t all that surprising when no one managed to put together the carefully hidden puzzle she’d been keeping to herself these past two months.
The door opens and Frank walks outside, a roller bag at his feet, dressed as comfortable as he normally is, with a wide grin on his face the moment he sees her.
She doesn’t hesitate to close the gap and meets him in the middle, throwing her arms around his neck before she can think better of it.
“Hey, Mel,” Frank chuckles into her ear. She feels his arms go around her waist and she has to stand on the tips of her toes to keep holding onto him, inhaling the deep woodsy scent he always seems to radiate. “Sorry to keep you waiting. There were a lot more teary goodbyes than I thought there would be.”
“They’re going to miss you,” she says. She could understand that all too well. Mel detangles herself from around him and her cheeks heat when he grips her hand in his. “How are you feeling?”
“Good,” he confirms. He squeezes her hand. “Hopeful. I think.”
“That’s good,” Mel agrees. “Come on, I have snacks in the car for the drive back.”
“God, you really are my favorite person, you know that?”
Mel can’t form an articulate enough response and just smiles, trying not to overthink the weight of his hand in hers as they remain connected all the way over to her car. She’s the only one in the visitor lot and they come up to her ancient sedan together, the night air cool on her face.
“Cute car,” Frank comments as she pops the trunk. She takes his bag and he huffs, but he’s smiling at her still. “I could’ve done that.”
“Sure,” Mel agrees. She tucks his bag away and closes the trunk, turning to find him still staring at her. “Are you um, ready?”
“Yeah, I’m…” he trails. He reaches out and grabs her wrist, startling her slightly. “I’m really glad you’re here right now.”
“Me too.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah,” she confirms. Frank’s thumb brushes over her wrist bone and she does her best not to shudder. “I’m proud of you too. I can’t remember if I said that already.”
“You have before,” he says. “But it’s still nice to hear.”
Frank sways towards her but stops before he gets too close, dropping her wrist with a small smile.
“Come on, we should get on the road.”
He parts ways from her and heads towards the passenger door and she shakes her head to herself, getting to the driver’s side. Her brain feels fuzzy as she unlocks both the doors and her wrist still burns from where he held her when they get settled in her car.
The silence rings in her ears but then she hears him inhale, forcing her eyes to snap to his.
She doesn’t give him a chance to put his seatbelt on. The moment he looks back at her, takes one quick glance down at her lips, she’s on him, half over the center console and pressing both her hands into his neck to feel his pulse under her fingers, attaching her mouth to his to smother whatever words he was about to tell her.
There’s a second when her brain catches up to her actions—worried she read too deeply into their messages, the brief visits they had, into the trust and friendship they built and that this is all this would ever be: a friendship. Frank doesn’t let her spiral too far though, groaning into her mouth and returning the kiss wholeheartedly, putting both his large hands on her hips to finish the job she started by fully pulling her into his lap.
“Fuck, baby,” Frank breathes along her tongue, already parting her lips with his own so he could lick against her. It muffles the whine in her throat and her hands scramble to hold onto something, settling in his hair. It’s a little greasy but all it does is remind her of their first shift together, of how his hair spread apart more and more and more as the day dragged on.
It’s dizzying—to be able to do that to him now with her own hands.
She can feel how hard he is underneath his sweatpants, feel how big he is, which makes her want to pull away and whine something embarrassing about how it wasn’t going to fit inside of her.
Mel grinds against him helplessly, her knees crammed into the seat and his hip bones. She presses her body down harder, desperate to just feel him, to prove to herself that he was real and she swallows the noise of surprise that rumbles deep from within his chest. Her hands move there, chasing each rapid inhale and exhale, imagining what it would be like to spread him open with her nails and crawl inside.
“Mel,” Frank pants. “Mel.”
She grinds down on him again and pries her lips from his, a trail of spit connecting their lips. Her glasses are smudged and half hanging off her face but Frank adjusts them, blinking rapidly at her.
“Mel,” he says again, softer this time. “This is a bad idea.”
“I know,” she agrees. Because she’s read everything online and knows he needs stability. That he’s married. That really, they’ve still only scratched the surface on whatever this was between them. She knows. “Do you want to stop?”
Frank runs his hand up her side, his thumb stopping right under the curve of her breast. He digs the digit into it over her shirt, breathing heavily out his mouth, his eyes slowly ascending back up to meet hers.
Goosebumps rise over her arms and she leans forward enough to run her nose along his, close enough that she can almost taste his next words.
“Do you want to stop?”
“No.”
He kisses her again and she’s eager to receive, to let herself be guided with his lips and his tongue, with his hands that leave scorching marks in their pathway as they drag over her hips and up under her shirt, palming at her breasts and her back, covering nearly every part of her he touches.
She wants—well, she wants him inside her. Mel can’t remember the last time she wanted anyone like this, as if she didn’t have him she just might die. It’s dramatic and too much but he’s murmuring how nice she feels, how good she is, how much he missed her, in between perfect messy kisses and what shred of rationality she has left snaps in tune with the clasp of her bra coming undone.
Mel pulls at the front of his shirt, kissing him and pulling at him while simultaneously trying to shove her body through the small gap in her front seats and to the back of her car.
“Wha—” Frank starts, his hands more focused on feeling her breasts underneath the loose garment of her bra.
“Frank, please,” she whines. She barely recognizes her own voice, but she doesn’t care, especially when it seems to work and suddenly the both of them are climbing awkwardly into her backseat between swears and complaints until finally Mel is laid out on her seats and Frank has settled over top of her. “Oh, gosh.”
The weight of him smothers her and she lifts her arms in tandem with Frank’s hands shoving her shirt up and over her head, her bra half hanging off her arm that neither of them bother to move, her brain turning to a pile of glorified mush when he dips his head down to take her nipple into his mouth and grind his cock into her hip.
She feels him bite down and Mel squirms, trying to push back into him to relieve the pressure in her core. She can’t seem to find it and whines when Frank moves to her other breast, groaning into her skin and taking the bud in between his fingers of the one not currently occupied by his tongue.
“Frank, Frank,” she whimpers. She runs her hand through his hair and pulls slightly but he doesn’t move, too focused on sucking on her breasts. “You’re so—Frank, can you—I need you to fuck me.”
Oh, Jesus, did she say that outloud?
Frank drives his pelvis into her with a loud moan and draws his head up to look at her, lips spit slick and his eyes shining.
“Mel, we really shouldn’t—”
No, no.
“Please,” she begs. Mel can feel the pressure behind her eyes in the telltale signs of her tears coming and wills herself not to cry. This was embarrassing enough as it was—needing him this much. “Frank. I want this.”
He stares at her.
“Unless you don’t want to,” she says quietly. “Then that’s okay too. We can just do this.”
Frank drops his head down to kiss her sternum and then presses another into her neck, sucking on the skin there. His lips drag up to her jaw and her breathing grows deeper, her hands running up and down his arms. He kisses the side of her face, and then his tongue flicks the earring she’s wearing.
“I want to, I want this. With you,” he tells her and Mel… Mel thought he did but it was still nice to hear. To know. “But I don’t have a condom.”
“Oh, that’s fine,” Mel tells him readily. She wants to feel him anyway, has been thinking about it far too much. He groans again and it rumbles deep in her ear, making her shudder underneath him. “Can you move your hips a little? I can’t take my pants off like this.”
“Jesus Christ,” Frank murmurs along with something lower that sounds a lot like ‘how are you even real?’ but then he’s lifting off her to help tug her pants down her legs, suddenly glad she decided on a pair of leggings for the long drive. He gets them down enough below her knees and they tangle at her ankles above her sneakers along with her underwear. She licks her lips, watching while Frank sits back so he can pull his cock out of his sweats and then settles back on top of her. She can feel it press into her belly and she makes a needy sound that Frank kisses away.
It’s hard to move with how small her backseat is and how her pants keep her legs restrained but she arches up, gasping when she manages to position herself in a way to move his cock from her belly to her cunt.
“Fuck,” Frank swears. He grinds against her, catching against her clit and lifts to stare down at their bodies, his hair brushing her forehead. “Look at you. You’re so fucking wet already.”
“Yeah.”
“Do you need me to stretch you?”
The tip of his cock presses against her entrance and Mel feels her eyes roll backwards.
“N-no, just, oh gosh, you can just go ahead.”
“Oh, I can huh?” Frank parrots. He pushes himself into her just barely, enough that she squirms towards him, trying to get him to give her more. “It’ll hurt if I do that, you know that, right?”
Mel nods rapidly and Frank runs his eyes over her face before taking a deep breath. Finally, finally, he starts to fit himself inside of her, too slowly for what she wants but the stretch does burn and it does hurt enough to prick tears at the corner of her eyes. She wishes she could spread her legs wider to accommodate him but she can’t and whimpers at the pressure building in her lower half.
“You okay?” Frank checks. “We can stop.”
“No, it’s—it feels good,” she sniffs. Which now as the pain subsides the deeper he fills her the more she can realize just how true that is. She’s only ever had sex one other time and it was nothing compared to how she felt right now. “You feel good.”
“So do you, baby,” he says quietly. He withdraws from her slightly and rocks back in, going a little deeper but not yet all the way. “I can’t believe this is happening right now. You’re fucking—” he pulls back again and then rocks forward, nearly burying himself inside her to the hilt. She trembles, tightening her grip on his biceps. “This is unreal. I didn’t think you wanted me like this.”
“What?” she huffs. On his next movement she feels his hips finally go flush with hers and his forehead knocks into hers, twin moans fogging up her car. “I thought I was fairly obvious.”
A laugh tumbles out of Frank’s mouth and he kisses the corner of her hers, beginning to fuck her properly. The car rocks with each thrust and Mel flushes, hoping she parked far enough for anyone that might pass them by. God, he couldn’t get in trouble for this, could he?
“I thought you were just being nice,” he tells her. His eyes dip to watch her breasts bounce and she preens under the attention, arching her back. “Fuck. Clearly I was wrong.”
“I am nice,” she agrees. Frank grips one of her breasts and she sighs out pleasantly. “But I’m not that nice.”
“No?” Frank teases, thumbing at her nipple. His hips move almost lazily, like they have all the time in the world to do this. “You wouldn’t do this for anyone else? Just me?”
“Uh-huh”
He thrusts into her a little harder and Mel moans, trying her best to meet him despite how restricted her movement is.
“Good,” he swallows. “I only want to do this to you too.”
She can still feel his wedding ring digging into her breast.
“Really?”
“Just you, baby,” he affirms. “You’re so good to me, how could I not? You’re making me feel so good, honey. So fucking good.”
“Frank.”
“That’s it,” he coaxes. She watches in a daze as he licks two of his fingers crudely, keeping his eyes on her while he moves them between their bodies to press against her clit. Mel moans out his name again and he chuckles, pressing down harder. “Feels nice? Gotta make sure I take care of you, you did such a good job taking care of me.”
“I d-did?”
“Oh, baby,” he murmurs. He kisses her softly on the lips and she chases after him when he pulls back, a line of sweat dripping from his hairline that she has to physically stop herself from reaching up to lick. “You did such a good job. You were perfect, Mel. You are perfect.”
Mel whines and grinds back into Frank’s hand, along his cock, surprised at how quickly the pressure is building in her core. She holds onto his bicep, her other hand gripping the back of her passenger seat, as he drives into her. Her breaths come out in rapid succession and she tries to control what noises leave her lips but Frank doesn’t relent, almost like he was spurred on by each one of them.
“That’s it, baby,” he pants. “There you are.”
“Frank.”
She tugs at him and her body squeezes around him as she comes. She thinks maybe she finally does cry, overwhelmed in the best way possible, feeling for once, like the noise in her brain, the worries, and fears, and just all of it, has finally disappeared to nothing but the feeling of him inside of her.
“So fucking pretty,” Frank murmurs. His fingers are still on her clit, unrelenting in its pressure despite already coming. “Can you give me another?”
“I t-think so.”
“I’m sure you can, baby,” he croons. “We can come together, wouldn’t that be nice? Come on, Mel, tell me where you want it.”
She was going to die, she was sure of it.
“Oh,” Mel whimpers, clenching down on him. “Inside. Please you can—I want it inside.”
“Fuckin’ hell,” he curses. His thrusts grow heavier, as does the pressure on her clit, direct and firm and just how she needs it to send her over the edge again. “Fuck, baby. Fuck, Mel.”
He stills and grips her shoulders, pressing his mouth into her cheek as he fills her. This is new for her, the warmth and how connected she feels to him, how unwilling she is to part their bodies even though they’re both slick with sweat and she can feel his come threatening to spill out of her. She wraps her arms around his back and pushes her hands up and under his shirt, stroking his skin while they both work to catch their breath.
“That was—”
“Are you—”
Mel can feel Frank smile and she giggles underneath him, running her nose along his jaw.
“You first,” she says.
“This isn’t going to be a one time thing for me,” he tells her. “At least I hope it won’t be.”
Mel digs her nails into his skin and doesn’t bother tampering down her grin.
“Then it won’t be.”
Frank squeezes her shoulders and shifts so he can slide them down her body, settling them both on her waist. His thumbs stroke the bones there and he pulls her impossibly closer, settling on top of her, seemingly with no plans to move anytime soon.
That was fine with her;
She was in good hands.
fin.