Mouse 🐁 (Brendon Park x Shy! Reader)
A/N: I’m back on my Brendon Park BS. I love this man who had zero screen time and that’s on mental illness.
Triggers:none? Hopefully? Lmk if I’m wrong.
Summary: Brendon meets a mouse and can’t help himself.
Brendon Park was not a man that… scurried. Each step had purpose, and each and every step had confidence. However, the first day you met, he saw you… scurry. You were an IT professional for the hospital, and the first way he thought of describing you was… mousy. Not in a bad way per say, just in a nervous way, like you were unsure of your place here, unsure of your steps, constantly trying to dodge all of the chaos all around you 24/7. He noticed with everything you did, you tried to make yourself small.
He didn’t like that. He didn’t like that one bit.
He especially didn’t like it, because every time he saw you, you seemed to be doing something brilliant, and people just seemed to pass it by. Let it go without acknowledging the fact that this extremely delicate piece of equipment was suddenly working because you took one look at it and were able to fix it in a matter of seconds. He was in awe, you must be on call for every minute of everyday when you were on shift. Brendon Park was not a man who reveled in wasted intelligence, nor was he a fan of letting intelligence go in noticed. Such was the curse of surgeons and their massive egos.
The first time he saw you, you were crawling into a piece of paneling that honestly? He didn’t know could be removed. You crawled into the space, messed around with some wiring he swore to god he saw you strip with your teeth, and suddenly-
“Oh fuck yeah! The WiFi is back up! No more hand charting folks, we’re back in Buissness!” He heard a nurse (probably Donnie) exclaim, and in the moment he looked away from you, you were gone, the panel was replaced, and apparently, the whole network was up and running like new.
The second time Brendon saw you, you were in the corner of a room, carefully fixing a piece of equipment that cost more than a small country. It was constantly throwing error messages, and you were looking pretty frustrated with the whole thing. A piece of the equipment seemed to be loose, some sort of wiring panel that wouldn’t stay in place. And suddenly, after carefully looking around to see if anyone was watching, (and totally missing him standing there,) you wacked it with a wrench. It started back up again and you gave the most maniacal laugh he had ever heard. “Percussive trouble shooting, works every time.”
The third time Brendon saw you, he knew he had to do something about it. He had been thinking about you every day since that stunt with the wrench, and he couldn’t bring himself to care. That’s what startled him most, normally when he found himself smitten with such frivolities, he could push it aside, focus on work, and keep it pushing. This time, it was like every time he entered the hospital, he found himself checking the darkest little corners and strange maintenance hallways to see if he could catch a glimpse of the person, he was now certain, was meant to be his, his little mouse.
“What are you doing over there?” A deep voice suddenly felt as if it reached out and grabbed you. When you whirled around, the most beautiful man with thick dark hair and shocking blue eyes stared back at you.
“Oh! Uh-“ you look around, carefully brandishing your screwdriver as if to explain, “I’m fixing this ventilator?” You said it as a question, Brendon knew it was a fact.
“So you’re brilliant.” He deadpans, looking you up and down.
“No! No, I’m just a normal emergency medical equipment specialist and IT person… guy… thing.” You exclaim throwing up both hands.
“That’s a shame, I like brilliant People, and IT medical equipment specialist guy thingies sound pretty brilliant to me, but if you say so-“ he goes to walk away, and as he is probably the prettiest man you have ever seen in your whole entire life, you go to stop him.
“Wait!” He stops, “Maybe I’m pretty smart?” You wince, not used to giving or receiving compliments, ever.
“Oh? Well then, Brendon Park, nice to meet you.” He reached out a hand and you took it, smiling all the while but somehow shrinking down while you did it.
“I know who you are,” you admit, shrinking further, “You’re Park the Shark.” He groans at this.
“I was hoping you were the one person in this hospital who didn’t know that idiotic nickname.” He smirked, trying to open his body language up more, make himself seem more open, shielding you from the rest of the ED.
“Oh no, I’m afraid your reputation proceeds you.” You giggle slightly, opening up a bit at his attempt to create a smaller space for you to dwell in, almost like you were scared of the open air. “But I like the nickname, what’s not to love about Sharks?”
“I don’t know mouse, what’s there to love about sharks?” He softens even more at the comfort you seem to be deriving from his shielding, trying to keep you from closing back off and shrinking back down.
“Oh! So many things! Did you know?” You proceeded to tell him fun facts about sharks for five whole minutes, each minute endearing him to you further.
“But anyway, I’ve been rambling, there’s no need for you to know all that.” You wave your hand and shrink back in on yourself all of a sudden and it breaks his heart a bit.
“I like rambling. I’m not a talker myself, so it’s nice to have someone fill the void, how about this,” Brendon steps into your bubble and you look up at him with the most perfect puppy dog eyes he had ever seen. “You save up some more fun facts, come up to my office, and use my fancy coffee maker until someone calls you or me for some other emergency, and we can chat a bit more about sharks, or machines, or little mice like you.” How could you ever say no to that?
You took the walk up the stairs with Brendon to the office suites, and the whole time you walked, he asked questions about your work, where you got your degrees (a double major and a double masters degree), your friends at work, (Mel King was the only one who ever took an interest in you after you fixed the printer by slamming the drawer shut three times and blowing into the slot.), you even got down to what type of mouse you’d be if you really were a mouse. (African Pygmy mouse apparently.) Then he really did make you a fancy coffee in his fancy office, his was minimalistic, a coffee cart in the corner for him and Garcia (their offices share a door), a big scary supervillain desk (your words not his), and big open widows showing off the city below. You were saddened to find no pictures, no screen savers, no tchotchkes, nothing. You weren’t completely surprised though either.
“So, mouse, what do you like in your coffee?” He asks, pulling out two mugs and starting the pot.
“Oh, cream and sugar? anything will do?” You ask it like a question, and he gives you the serious eyes until you make a statement and ask for some of Garcia’s fancy vanilla oat milk creamer.
“Why do you call me mouse?” You say, settling into the surprisingly comfy chair at the front of his desk while he settles behind it.
“Because, the first time I ever saw you you scurried across my path, and crawled into this little side panel, fixed the WiFi in the out, and scurried off before anyone could thank you or acknowledge your hard work.” He sips his coffee and raises his eyebrows at you. “Kind of like a…”
“Mouse,” you nod, “kinda like a mouse.”
“Right, now mouse, why don’t you tell me all about yourself, I’ll tell you some more about me, and if all goes well, I’ll take you to dinner when we get off shift.”
“Okay?” He hit you with a look when it comes out more like a question again. “Ok,” you say with more confidence, “I like pasta and tiramisu.”
“That’s more like it mouse.”
Three months after Brendon got you that pasta and a piece of the best tiramisu in the city, you kept seeing each other. With every date, you opened up more and more until Brendon’s presence became a staple in your every day life, and his confidence in your brilliance started to make you feel more like maybe you were as brilliant as he knew you to be. With his confidence in you, you started to branch out a little more, I mean, if one unexpected interaction could lead you to the love of your life, maybe more could lead you to something else spectacular.
Pretty soon, mouse the mechanic was a staple in the Pitt, and a most necessary part of their team. You often had park beers with the crew, participated openly in the night crawler chant, (even though you rarely ever worked nights, you just like being apart of the fun), and you even started weekly Karaoke nights with the pittlings.
The best part of this new found boldness was your relationship with Brendon, he bolstered your courage, and you tempered his harshness. Everyone noticed the difference in him the longer you dated. Pretty soon, it was weird to see Brendon WITHOUT his little mouse trailing behind him, and that was just the way he liked it.
