barantos prompt: (competence kink) one of them getting distracted/turned on seeing the other one being good at their job then having to concentrate the rest of the day (bonus if the other one notices a makes it harder on them/teases them on purpose)
so sorry i disappeared! here's something to hold everyone over while i work on the next chapter of my stripper!barantos au :)
it starts with the suturing.
it’s a less trauma-heavy day, and baran is helping some of the residents out in chairs. there’s a woman with an extremely infected nostril piercing, a guy with a really messed up fingernail, and then a teenager with a bloody knee, split open around a chunk of gravel after a nasty fall from a skateboard.
trinity hasn’t been in chairs all day, though, she’s been taking some of the more serious cases down the hall and only finally shows up because she needs an attending to confer with (and maybe, selfishly, just because she wants to see baran)
she walks in on the procedure and finds herself standing in the doorway from start to finish. she watches baran’s hands, under the latex gloves, threading the needle. the slight flex of her forearm under her dainty little watch when she sprays numbing antiseptic over the wound. the vein in her wrist that begins to pop out, just a little bit, while she slowly begins to sew.
but soon, her attention shifts from the appearance to the sheer capability. half of the time, she notices, baran isn’t even watching what she’s doing, and yet every stitch is perfectly spaced, with clean punctures and not a single opening. not only that, but she’s talking to the teen’s mom, something trinity could never have the confidence to do without missing and stabbing straight into muscle.
she’s ashamed by how hot the whole thing makes her. even more ashamed when, after completing the suture in record time, baran approaches her and she realizes she completely forgot what she even came here for. she leaves, flushed and embarrassed, and resolves not to think too hard about baran while they’re working.
it haunts her for the rest of the day. baran makes firm commands all day and argues with residents and surgeons and just about everyone else when they make poor choices (because baran is always right). trinity is no stranger to baran’s hovering, nor the way she calmly corrects small mistakes which could be costly. she catches them every single time.
all day, trinity faces tiny humiliations. she retrieves the wrong medication, and baran quietly takes it from her and presses the right one into her hand. she’s about to begin a procedure when baran comes in and tells her she’s made some faulty preparations. she finally gets to charting and finds that baran has somehow made the time to complete the paperwork for half of trinity’s patients.
it is so, so mortifying. it makes trinity so, so wet.
and then baran says the stupidest, most infuriating thing when they finally get home.
“did you have a good day, trinity?”
“sure. there’ve been better, but it wasn’t bad or anything. did you?”
“i’m a little frustrated with myself. i left a patient unattended for much too long.”
“how long is that?”
“oh, about twenty minutes. long enough for something bad to happen to him.”
trinity drops her bag on the floor and her jaw nearly goes with it. “seriously?”
“what?”
“that’s it? you’re beating yourself up because you left him alone for less than half an hour?”
“i’m afraid i don’t understand. does that upset you?”
“no- i just-” trinity has to take a deep breath and run her hands through her hair, “i made a million fucking mistakes today. i mean, do you know how many times you literally schooled me?”
“i’m sorry. i didn’t mean to frustrate you-”
“that’s the thing. it wasn’t frustrating, it was- ugh, jesus.”
she smothers her face in her hands, embarrassed because she’s about to have to tell baran that she has the hots for how smart she is.
“i-” she can’t bring herself to say it, “it’s nothing. sorry, i guess i just had a longer day than i thought.”
“oh, baby.” baran approaches her, arms open, and trinity has no choice but to concede, “i’m sorry. was i turning you on, sweetheart?”
trinity stiffens a little at that, mortified beyond belief. “i’m not- i-”
“it’s okay, trinity,” she peers up a little, trying to figure out what baran is getting at. “honestly, baby, i’m flattered. i didn’t mean to leave you all high and dry, though. you should have told me.”
“how was i supposed to tell you? ‘oh, you’re really smart and it’s turning me on while we’re at work’?”
baran leans in to nip at trinity’s ear. “maybe. how do you know if i would have done something about it or not? it was slow today.”
baran is pushing her towards the counter until she’s right up against it, palms flat on the marble. “well- can you do something now? please?”
there are hands firmly positioned on her hips, breath on the back of her neck. trinity imagines those hands, threading the needle. pressing medication into her own, warm fingers wrapping around hers.
“i think we might just be able to make something work, trinity.”
one of baran’s hands moves up to her lower back, right to the center, and it pushes. she bends, her cheek meeting the cold surface of the counter, and baran’s other hand still remains on her hip, rubbing slow, firm circles.
and then it slips around, rests on her pelvic bone, under her shirt and right over her waistband. a high, breathy sound escapes her, and baran chuckles from behind.
“goodness, trinity. you really have been waiting for this all day, haven’t you? when did it start?”
“mhm- been needing it, i-” baran’s hand moves back and forth, over her stomach, waiting for the right answer. “the suture. it was the suture.”
baran scoffs. “really? a little suturing made you wet, trinity?”
“yes. i’m sorry.”
“don’t be sorry, baby. it’s okay, we can take care of it.”
the hand slides under her scrubs, presses into her underwear and does tiny circles over her hole, collecting all the slick that’s accumulated there. vaguely, trinity feels like she might have a heart attack. her clit throbs against baran’s palm.
“baran, i-”
“shhh, shh baby, it’s okay. you’ve been so patient all day, huh? let me fix it, sweetheart.”
