Ezra R. Greenberg ❖ Twenty-Seven years old ❖ Paramedic & Firefighter ❖ Older brother to TBD Greenberg ❖Resident of Salem, Massachusetts ❝ Imagination is more important than knowledge. ❞ 🖙 Albert Einstein Mobile Navigation
❖ Name: Ezra Rillin Greenberg
❖ Age: Twenty-Seven
❖ Birthday: November 7th, 1993
❖ Gender/Pronouns: Male & he/him
❖ Sexuality: Bi-Sexual
❖ Hometown: Myrtle Beach, South Carolina
❖ Occupation: Firefighter/Paramedic
— BACKGROUND
trigger warnings: parent abandonment
Ezra and his three years younger brother grew up without their father in their lives. His mom raised them on her own, and as Ezra grew older, he saw the more she struggled with the two boys. When he was 13, he started to help out around the house more, even helping his baby brother with his homework, walking with him to and from school, and helping with making dinner. No, he was no gourmet chef, but he knew how to make a mean Mac n’ Cheese, Grilled Cheese, and heat soup their mom would buy. Whatever way Ezra could help his mother, he would do the very best he could because now he is the man of the house, and that is his actual duty.
When he was 16, Ezra finally got his driver’s license and got a job/volunteer job at the hospital with his mom. Well, in the hospital kitchen, but it was something to get him out of the house. Plus more ways he could help his mom. He did break loose and go to high school parties and hangouts with his friends every so often, but he was more of a homebody. Thus, he would only stay for a few hours before heading back home, in time to pick up lunch for his mom’s overnight shifts, and home to relieve his next-door neighbor from babysitting his sleeping brother.
Eventually, when he turned 17 and graduated high school, Ezra knew precisely what he wanted to do - follow in his mother’s footsteps, well, sort of - he wanted to help people. However, he wasn’t sure he could do what nurses and doctors do on a daily, exhausting basis.
Setting his sights on a nearby city- Ezra went through a cardiopulmonary resuscitation program to get his certification and apply to the Paramedic position at the city’s Fire Department. Which he didn’t realize would be slightly more complicated than he realized, but also fun and thrilling. However, Ezra couldn’t lie about the most challenging part of being away from his mom and 15-year-old brother. Don’t get him wrong, he realizes that it’s better for his mom that now she only has one son to focus on instead of two, but he still worries over her and his baby brother. So, every night when he got home from his shifts, he would call them and check up on them, wishing that they could follow him out to the city, but he knew better than to push a big move on his mom.
Now being 27, he decided to pick up dual responsibilities within his career - he chose to be a paramedic and a firefighter. Still even having small thoughts about moving his small family in Myrtle Beach to a town he’s grown to adore.
>> Ezra’s little brother — The Greenberg boys are the only sons of Elizabeth Greenberg & when they were both young, their father left them with no word nor warning. Thus, growing up, Ezra became a father figure and an older brother to his younger brother. The two are three years apart, and they are considerably close - more times than not, they seem as if they are best friends rather than brothers. There isn't a day that goes by where Ezra doesn't wish his mom and his brother would move to city with him.
>> Ride -or- Die — Being a part of the Fire & Rescue team, there is an unspeakable bond. It's a kind of bond with others that you didn't have to say anything for the other person to know precisely what you are thinking. Well, Ezra had a bond like this with one person that was stronger over the others. The two are inseparable, and just about nothing could break them apart.
>> Enemy to Frenemy — Like cats & dogs, detectives & lawyer - Ezra and the other despised one another. For a reason, at least he couldn’t remember; they just never typically got along since the moment he arrived in the city. However, one day (through some “venue” or something), the two became friends. Not close nor necessarily good friends. Just friends - frenemies, more or less.
Syd eyed him as he walked up to the bar, got comfortable at a stool beside him. Only then did he turn himself back around to face the man who had clearly gone home, changed, and come back out. He appreciated it. Syd leaned his elbow on the bar, taking a sip of his drink and shrugging. He watched him order a bourbon.
He could’ve lied, said he went home and napped and took a break and rested after getting pummeled by some 6′2″ juggernaut. But he didn’t want to. “So I know y’told me to take it easy, so… I took it easy here.” He shrugged, unable to help the grin on his face. “I’ll put some ice on my side whenever I get home.” He added. “But I feel fine. I’ve gotten plenty of kicks in the pants, you know? Takes more than a few licks to get me. How was the rest of your shift? Any other noteworthy incidents? Probably not as exciting as peeling me off the cement.”
//
Ezra nodded his thanks to the bartender before bringing his undivided attention to the other. He couldn’t help the small huffing laugh at the other’s words, though he wasn’t necessarily surprised. Syd struck him as someone who didn’t listen to instructions, incredibly when nurturing his wound. “Well, I don’t know if it’s just your pain immunity or your surprising luck - but you got lucky all he got on you was a bloody lip and some bruised ribs.” Then again, suppose Ezra wasn’t giving him enough credit? Maybe he was a better fighter than he could imagine. The way he made it seem, he tends to get into a few fights. “Though I do suppose if you tend on getting yourself into moments where you might end up with something more than a bloody lip - you should have a medic on call.” He said, only taking his eyes off the other to pull out his phone, texting the number Syd provided him with either. “Now you know my number.” Ezra looked back up at the other with a shit-eating grin.
Taking a sip of his drink, he straightened up a little, laying one of his hands in his lap and the other loosely cupped around his glass. “Just your basic cat in the tree calls.” He answered, lightly shaking his head. “The weekends are more reserved for the crazier fun calls.” He informed, huffing a laugh. “Besides getting into fights - what do you normally do?”
Partying in Paris sounded amazing. Infinitely better than worrying about getting a new job to finish paying for college and her home. Breanne took a final sip of her beer. The bottle was empty and she had no desire to buy another one. The empty beer bottle was discarded in a nearby trashcan. “Party hard my dude, party hard.” Breanne encouraged. “I on the other hand, will be capping it off here. As I should not be buying anymore alcohol.” This was mostly a verbal reminder to herself. Don’t spend anymore money. “Either beer or deep fried cheese curds and the cheese curds are calling my name. A lot of food is calling my name. Did I even eat dinner? It’s been a very long day.” Those weren’t questions Ezra could answer, but questions that came to Breanne as her thoughts came spilling out of her mouth.
//
Ezra sighed out a displeasing noise at her mention of capping it off. “Well, you can have both. It’ll be on me. As I said, you should be celebrating.” He insisted as he called the waiter over. “Two more beers and some deep-fried cheese curds whenever you can, love.” Most of the time, sweet-talking to the bartenders will get you far with getting your order taken and delivered promptly. It’s worked for Ezra so far, and he wasn’t about to quit. “Although if you haven’t eaten, then I recommend we got to Starla’s Diner and get you some actual food.” He said as he watched her closely. “After all that you’ve told me, you deserve a celebratory meal.”
Weston watched as Ezra sighed. He knew it wasn’t going to be as easy as dropping off a file. He either asked the questions now or later. If he asked now that meant they didn’t need to talk later… hopefully. “Of course they did.” Because no one else in the department had any idea what they were doing. Pawning their work on him. “Okay, good to know.” He flipped through the papers.
//
Ezra huffed a small laugh out of the pure irritation the other had towards the investigators in his department, but he instantly cleared his throat and sat there in silence as he watched the other loosely. Fuck, this was somewhat awkward, and eventually, Ezra broke the slight silence. “Anything else you need from me?” He didn’t want to be rude, but at the same time, he didn’t want to spend any more time around the other more than he needed to.
Elliot was damn good at his job and that’s something he was proud of, but sometimes his disability got in the way. Normally he was good but there will still those days that he wasn’t sure what was going to happen. He had started cooking something and then got distracted working on something else that he completely forgot about the first thing he started with (which was so unusual for him). The fire began and Elliot hadn’t even noticed at first until he felt the heat of it and the steam that he was close to.
Freezing in that moment, he didn’t know what was going on. He felt himself being pulled away from the situation and the guy who had moved him away was speaking to him. That’s when he noticed that his one hearing aid wasn’t working and he groaned. Luckily he could read lips and hear enough in his other ear to understand what was being said. “Yeah, sorry. I don’t even know what happened. This never happens. My stupid hearing aid died that was facing that side I guess and I didn’t even hear the flames and then I didn’t notice cause I was so focused in on something else.”
//
Keeping his grip on the other’s shoulder, he still did a glance over to make sure he was okay - the fire wasn’t big, still didn’t mean that it couldn’t have ‘spit’ out towards people. Luckily enough, he didn’t spot any kind of burn on him, and he did eventually answer him back. “As long as you’re okay.” Looking up, he watched his friends and co-workers escort people out of the kitchen to allow it time to air out. “Let’s get out of the smoke.” He instructed, motioning his hands out towards the back door where the rest of the kitchen workers were heading out. Keeping a step behind the other male, he cleared his throat before asking the next question that popped into his mind.
“Do you have extra batteries for your hearing aid, or are you okay with working without it working?” He asked, still trying to do his job (he wasn’t on the clock for) and ensure he was alright.
“You’re not wrong.” She smirked. Cassie buckled herself in and set her phone on her lap. “The DJ? I’m always ready to be the DJ are you kidding.” Grabbing the aux cord from him and plugging her phone in. Opening Spotify and putting on a playlist. “Depends on the day. Typically bring my mom to treatments, walk Pax, do random things that need to be done in my apartment and watch some tv. Pretty boring actually. What about you?”
//
Ezra couldn’t help the laugh that escaped. He stayed silent as she pulled up a playlist on Spotify and answered his question. Glancing over at her for a few seconds before fixing his eyes back on the road, he couldn’t hide the taunting smile. “So, what you mean to tell me is I saved you from a more or less dull day?” He joked. “Depends on the day and if I have any plans with someone. Generally, if I don’t - I like to drive down to the beach, spend some time there.” He said, shrugging lightly before clearing his throat. “How is your mom doing?”
Frannie’s lips curved into a smile when she heard the door. Knocking was just a formality at this point, but Ezra seemed to know she would appreciate the observance of etiquette and she liked him very much for it. When she answered the door, he was wearing a t-shirt she attempted to steal two weeks ago when he left it at her place. She returned it after feeling a bit ridiculous. It just felt very comfy when she wore it. As for her outfit, it wasn’t as casual as it would be if she dressed for a friend, but at least she wasn’t wearing high heels. Tipping onto her toes, she pulled him for a quick kiss when she answered the door. “Hey, there,” she said, stepping aside, and then closed the door behind them. “The wine is breathing and I’ve just started making dinner.” She headed towards the kitchen then, pulling two wine glasses from one of the top shelves. “How was it today?” She asked, putting the glasses on the counter.
//
When Frannie opened the door, he smiled and gladly reciprocated the small kiss before walking into her apartment. Just a moment, he stood off to the side, though when she walked towards the kitchen - he followed suit, leaning on the counter as he watched her closely. “Is there anything I can do to help?” Ezra wasn’t a stranger to the kitchen and often liked to make meals or help out. “Nothing too special happened today. Oh, well, that’s somewhat of a lie. Some teenager got their hand stuck in a slushie machine. Yeah, it wasn’t pretty.” He said, raising his brows as he shook his head, still not believing what logically thinking they had in sticking their hand in a damn slushie machine. “How was your day, though? How’s Benji?” He asked, generally curious.
Kickboxing had become one of Dilan’s newer hobbies, though going to the gym and working out in general had long since been part of her routine consistently since high school, after running track and playing soccer. Undertaken at the suggestion of a personal trainer back in New York, she quickly found herself enjoying, whether or not that was worrisome, could be up to interpretation. In any case, even if she didn’t have their continued expertise guiding her after the relocation to Salem, she did have Ezra, who in her books was the far better sparring partner she could ask for. Since her arrival to town he became one of — less than a singular handful of people she felt comfortable having her personal guard down with. And in the current vortex her state of mind was caught in right now, partly why she needed this gym session, it was fortunate they both had an aligning off day.
Keeping her stance, hands leveled with elbows tucked towards her sides, vision trained on the man in front of her as they moved around the ring in rhythm. ❝ Just remember, if I end up landing at least one good blow you can’t hold it against me. ❞ She joked, for the most part anyway, after all this wasn’t an actual match, before swinging her right arm out.
//
Working out had become one of Ezra’s favorite hobbies - although he did like his downtime of piggy out and watching movies, as well - keeping in shape not just for his career, but for his health as well, he knew there was a lot of ways of working out that he has yet to try. Including kickboxing. Thanks to Dilan Ulusoy, kickboxing became one of the ways he worked out. However, Dilan is the only person he does kickboxing with - at least thus far, he does like how this turned out to be more of their thing. Whenever they had their clear calendars simultaneously, it was usually always reserved for their hangouts, which he cherishes, for she is one of his closest friends.
Laughing at her words, Ezra’s stance mimicked Dilan’s. “And vice versa, or is this that specially reserved?” He taunted, the smile never leaving. “Well, then come on - let’s see what you got, Ronda Rousey.”
Chloe held her hands near the bar, hovering just above so as not to interrupt his work. It was effortless, and Chloe almost had to laugh at how easy it was for him. She ended up just pulling her hands away, watching him push the bar up with ease. She finally put her hands back to help him guide the bar back into place on either hook. He glanced back at her, and she couldn’t help but laugh. “At least. Are you just trying to show off?” She teased, handing him one more five pound plate to put on the side of the bar closest to him. “You did that too easy, I bet you can get five reps out of 210.”
//
Laughing at her comment, he squinted one of his eyes and tilted his head a bit to getter a better look at her. “Maybe.” He answered but took the weight she handed him and sat up enough to place it on the bar. Ezra wasn’t sure how many reps he could do with the extra 10 pounds, but he couldn’t lie and say he was eager to know. Adjusting his position as he laid back down. Clearing his throat, he reached up to the bars again, taking in a breathe as he picked the bar back off the hooks, allowing the breath to come out as he motioned the bar towards his chest - and repeat. Ezra felt the difference, though there was still no quit in his arms - yet. Though the overachiever did do the five reps she told him to do, eventually - but he finished it with less an ease than he did the first time with just 200 pounds. Putting the bar back on the hooks, he allowed his arms to fall onto his torso. “I may be able to do a few more reps, but I think my arms need some circulation before.” He said, sitting up and grabbing his water.
In reality, Syd had no clue if the man would actually show up. He had figured he might as well shoot his shot, because there was no time like the present, right? And honestly, Syd did flirt with quite a few people. That was just the kind of person he was. But a hot paramedic… how could he not at least try? Especially after having him dab at the blood on his lip, check his bruised ribs… and Syd had definitely not gone home first. He’d walked himself right to Rockafellas, nursed a water with some jalapeno poppers, and texted a friend for a bit about the whole ordeal.
A few hours later, he was still there. He’d rolled his beat up denim jacket’s sleeves up on his forearms and ordered himself something a bit fruity since the bartender had sworn by it (and it sounded like he might get it for a discount since he was being so friendly). It was late, but Syd was used to staying out when all the more touristy locations closed up shop for the night. He had his eyes on the screen- they had some action movie he’d never seen on. Maybe it was one of the John Wicks? Fast and Furious? The bar wasn’t very busy, with a few couples chatting, one lone man at his own side sipping on a beer and watching tv. And there was Syd, comfortable and debating another appetizer, when his eyes caught on someone walking in. He turned on his stool, holding his chilled cup against his still-healing split lip. “So, you decided to grace me with your presence.” He said, unable to help the wide smile on his face. “Not like I was waiting or anythin’.”
//
The rest of the shift was rather dull and seemed to drag out more; then again, it didn’t help that he couldn’t take Syd off his mind. Whether it was because it’s been a while since he allowed himself some fun or his co-workers taunting him about texting or calling him - maybe it was a mixture of both? Either way, when it was time to clock out and go home, Ezra found himself driving home first to take his routine shower and changing into some fresh clothes instead of his boxers he usually wears when he’s gearing up for bed. Once he got everything he needed, he locked his apartment up and headed over to the place that was scratched out on a piece of napkin. He thought about texting him that he was planning on meeting up, but Ezra forgot to, and he was already driving over to Rockafellas.
Walking in, he glanced around at the settings but soon was looking to see if he could find Syd - maybe he should have texted to ensure that he was going to be there? Or perhaps not - his eyes landed on the other, and a soft smile spread his features. Laughing at his small comment, he slipped into the seat next to him. “I can’t imagine why you would be.” He said with a slight raise of his right brow. Looking towards the bartender, he gave them a friendly smile. “Bourbon, whenever you get the chance, love.” He ordered before looking back over to Syd. “So, how are you feeling?”
“This happened to me freshman year.” Breanne explained. “You’d figure after two years of me being in school when I give them my hour changes early enough it’d be accommodated… Suppose it’s kind of my fault for coming back… Eh…. bahala na si Batman.” Breanne shrugged that last part off. It didn’t really matter now. On to something different. “Dude, I fucking love chemistry, but I despise numbers.” It didn’t make a lot of sense. She’d be working with numbers yet she hated them. “Like so much can go wrong if you mess up one little thing. It’s out of this world.” Even sober, Breanne knew she was a walking contradiction. “Salamat, Ezra. It’s been a struggle, but I’m kicking it’s butt.” This felt like a fitting send off to any free time she’ll have in the future. If there was one thing Breanne was good at it was making the most of any situation. Including months of not having an active social life. “Are you out having a last hurrah to free time too?”
//
Ezra laughed at her words and shook his head. “Well, it wasn’t as if you were asking for time off to party it up in Paris.” Truly, Ezra couldn’t understand why jobs made it seem as if college students needed them more than they need the person who is trying to better their lives. In some cases, they did, but those are the people he wished for better things to happen to them. Although someone like Breanne isn’t afraid to stick to them, he was ready to celebrate with her. “Either way, though, I think it’s proper for you to celebrate you getting rid of that job.” He said, offering her a friendly smile.
Laughing again, he nodded at the comment about hating numbers. It was something that he had to work with as well. Not as much as Breanne would be working with, but enough. “Trust me, it’s understandable. I think the only people who like numbers are accountants, and even then, it’s a bit if-y.” He joked lightly. Taking a sip of his drink, he shrugged slightly as he nodded. “For at least the next couple of days, then I have to report back to work.” Ezra loves what he does, but he does love his time off as well.
Chloe gave him a friendly smile, and nodded. “Solid.” She started adding the weight to the bar for him. “You can probably do more, you know. I believe in you,” She said, wiping her hands as she put the final weight on the bar. “But, we’ll start you at 200.” She patted the bench. “Start with two or three reps? I’ll spot you, so no stress.” She knew herself too well. If he wasn’t struggling, she’d make it four or five.
//
Ezra stood off to the side for a moment before attempting to help her with the weights, though her movements seemed effortlessly, and he couldn’t lie - he enjoyed watching her. “As long as you believe in me.” He said with a slightly teasing tone behind his words. He still sat on the bench before carefully laying back and getting adjusted, lifting his arms towards the bar and wrapping his fingers around the metal. Ezra was wearing lifting/training gloves to get a better grip and control of the bar as he lifted it off its hooks and easily started to press the weight effortlessly. He was keeping the presses at a steady rhythm, ensuring to keep his breathing under control, and as he started his third rep, he felt a little warmer than when Ezra began, but he was beyond from being tired.
Once he was done, he steadily placed the bar back on the hooks before looking towards Chloe. “Think I could do five more pounds on each side?”
Syd groaned, a hand covering his shit-eating grin as he watched the other talk about Advil and ice. “Yeah, no hospital, thanks. Unless, in your professional opinion, you think I need it.” Syd didn’t want to go pay thousands of dollars for a kick in the pants, and he assumed that’s all it was anyways. Some bruising that would be fine in a few days. He was used to walking off a scrape or bruise. Or a twisted elbow or ankle or wrist. Whatever. He dealt with it.
He was more focused now on the paramedic. “Ezra.” Syd echoed the name back in the same huskier voice as before, letting the name slip off his tongue. He practically beamed in satisfaction as Ezra commented that if he hadn’t been working, he would’ve throttled the guy too. “Fuck yeah, chief. That’s the kinda answer that gets youuu….” He felt around in his jean pockets, then grabbed his denim jacket, voice trailing off as he seemed to be rooting around for something, until he finally took out an old napkin and jotted down his number with a worn out pen he found in there. He wrote ‘Syd ;)’ next to the phone number. “I’m goin’ to another bar, I think, but I’ll mind my manners.” He teased. “Rockafellas, downtown. They’re open late, have good snacks. Might pop over there an’ be there until they close… so, you know. A few hours. If you’re looking for a drink, when you get off.” He got himself up, shoving his jacket back on and pushing the piece of paper into Ezra’s hand. “I’ll be good though. No more punches, at least not tonight.” He winked.
//
“If you can breathe without being in too much pain, you’ll be perfectly fine, but I wouldn’t suggest getting into another fight.” He said, looking down at the bag and ensuring everything was in there before zipping it up, throwing it over his shoulders, and standing up. “That would be my professional opinion.” Ezra smiled a friendly smile as he took this small opportunity to glance him over. Suppose he should be thankful that he was working, even though he genuinely hated it in this current moment. However, his eyes narrowed as Ezra started to scrum around, obviously looking for something. He stood by, but in the meantime, he looked over at his partner checking out the other guy, she nodded her head, and he knew that both were okay.
Once Syd spoke up and slid a napkin into his hands, he already knew what it was without looking, especially when Syd continued to say where he’d be later. Oh, how tempting it was. The smile never faded as he glanced over at the other. “I’ll keep that in mind. I could go for a drink after work.” He said, clearing his throat and taking one small step back. “Be sure to go home and ice your side first.” He said, trying to cover his unprofessionalism for those few seconds. Ezra flashed him one last smile before turning on his heels and walked back over to the ambulance.
“Look at that, and without having to save his life.” His partner taunted him. “You actually going to call and go out with this one.” They asked Ezra, and Ezra only shot her a look before saying. “Shut up.” playfully. Though he pushed the medic bag inside and off to the side, he glanced over at Syd before hopping into the ambulance, closing one of the doors, and yelling out. “Good to go.” to the driver to get on with the rest of his shift. Which dragged on too long, with Syd occupying his mind most of the time.
for ➾ @quitefran-kly
location ➾ f r a n n i e ’ s a p a r t m e n t
//
Frannie Corwin and Ezra have known each other for a while now. Though they started as friendly neighbors, Ezra became curious and concerned about her son - thus, they soon become good friends, but over time they somehow formed more of a ‘deeper’ connection than just friends. No, they weren’t in love, but they are intimately involved. They often message the other, and when Ezra got a message to go over to her place, he didn’t hesitate to say he would after he got off work. Which was only 4 hours away, four hours that seemed to drag on since the moment he got the text. Nevertheless, the time came when he could change out of his uniform and into his regular clothes.
However, once he got to his apartment complex, he stopped at his place to drop off his bag and change into a fresh pair of clothes before locking up and headed over to Frannie’s. Ezra texted Frannie that he was on his way but still knocked on her door so that she knew when he was there.
Chloe waved her hand nonchalantly. “The walk over to the gym is usually enough of a warm-up for me.” Chloe crossed her arms over her chest, scanning the gym as she mentally put together the plan for the session. She knew they were working upper body, probably chest and biceps was the best place to start. “Alright, come on. Chest presses to start? Do you know what you’re able to bench these days?” She asked, starting a path towards the bench. This was her element. She knew she could thrive here, and could do her job well. She just hoped it wouldn’t be too off putting compared to her more casual nature.
//
Clearing his throat, he huffed a small laugh at Chloe’s remark but stayed silent after, allowing the other her time for the silence. He wasn’t sure if she was plotting or not and thought it was better just to stay silent and let the other the time to think. Bending time, Ezra grabbed the water he placed on the floor - as he took a drink, he followed a step behind Chloe. “200 was the last I can remember.” He said, trying to remember if he started to build up from 200. It was the weight you had to be able to lift when you become a firefighter, but he couldn’t remember if he was tempted to build up from it. “I believe I’ve only been doing 200 for a few months or so now.”
If there was one thing Syd was confident in, it was flirting. It didn’t mean he was good at it, but he was definitely confident. And watching the paramedic’s face as he gave him some water… Syd had a little spark in his eye, trying not to be too obnoxious as he swished it and spat it to the side into a bush with little care. He leaned back slowly, one arm comfortably arched on the top of the bench so the man could do his little check-up. The pressing did hurt a little bit, and he weighed his options of trying to appear tough, or to just be honest.
“Yeah, little bit.” He murmured, voice a bit husky as he shifted. “Not terrible, but I think I got the wind knocked outta me.” Syd turned himself back to face the man better, a little grin on his face. “’s nothing a little more alcohol and a cigarette won’t solve, babe. What’re you doing later? Maybe you can join me.” Syd was all of 5 feet and 7 inches tall, decked out in old tight denim, a messy mullet of curls and a dusting of facial hair. One eye looked like he’d taken a finger and smudged eyeshadow across it- but that was definitely from the punch. He eyed Ezra for a second longer. “I’m Syd.” He added, realizing he hadn’t said his name yet. “I don’t punch people normally, unless they’re bigots. I mean, that’s fair reasoning, right?”
//
Smiling at the other’s reaction, Ezra pulled away as he started to pull off his gloves and tucked them in his back pockets, giving himself a mental reminder to throw them away before going back into the ambulance. Though he couldn’t help the laugh that escaped his lips at Syd’s words. “I’m sure it’s nothing serious, just a substantial bruise, but we can take you to the hospital if you want to get a full glance over.” He offered, still trying his best to keep this as professional as possible. “Or else I strongly recommend some good Advil and to ice your side once you get home.” He continued but cleared his throat, looking down at his hands before looking up at the other. “And I will be unfortunately be working for a few more hours.” He eventually answered.
There was no doubt, the other is physically attractive, and if he weren’t working - he would be hitting back on the other and enjoying this interaction a bit more than he’s allowing himself. Staying kneeled in front of him, Ezra smiled at the introduction. “Ezra. It’s a pleasure.” He stated sincerely. Letting out another small huff, “It depends when you would ask me the question. On duty - I would say it’s never okay to start a fight. Off duty, I would have been right there with you.” Ezra hated ignorant people, and while he would ignore it before throwing a fist, he wasn’t afraid to fight back and end the fight right then and there.
