happy late night mohabbot monday
late night bench conversations featuring ace!samira, perhaps?? 💜🤍🖤🩶
give me a park bench conversation late at night; cold but not snowing, a gentle breeze against the back of samira's neck before her curls are let down out of her bun. just the two of them, seated close together for warmth and sharing a drink after jack's worked twelve hours and samira's worked twenty-four.
jack's sipping at his beer and samira's trying to pace herself with the mini bottle of wine he'd pulled out of his lunchbox --
("you brought me wine?"
"you make a face whenever princess tosses you a beer can."
".... well. cheap beer tastes terrible."
"god, mohan, you really didn't have any fun in college, did you?"
"maybe i just have a refined palate."
"is that what they're calling it?")
-- for her. it feels like her heart rate is finally slowing after such a steady shift. she feels her fingers tingling from the cold and her chest warming through from the wine.
jack's thigh is against hers, warm and strong and she's never actually wanted to feel someone else's touch before.
"by most people's standards, you'd be right. i didn't have fun in college," she says, watching him turn to face her in her peripheral vision. "i wasn't out partying. i wasn't hooking up. i was just focusing on school. focusing on where i wanted to be. but it wasn't -- it didn't upset me. i didn't feel like i was missing out. i never wanted to be anywhere other than where i was."
jack hums softly, lifting an arm to rest over the back of the bench. "i was just teasing."
"I know," samira replies, glancing over at him. she shrugs a little, eyes soft. "but -- that's always how i've been. i've never been a partier. i like being alone. i'm good at it. and i never even considered hooking up. i didn't understand it."
"didn't understand - the casual sex thing? 'cause i'm with you, there. my wife was, uh. she was pretty much it for me for a long time."
samira leans back a little so his arm is against the back of her neck. it's warm. it's nice.
"i didn't understand the sex thing at all. the wanting sex thing," she clarifies, spurred on by the wine to explain it in a way she so rarely does. "i never really get those feelings for people."
jack lifts a brow. "So you've never...?"
Jack's other brow rises. "And you've never -- wanted to? Even just a little bit?"
"I'm curious, sure. But not in the way that I think most people are. I just - usually don't feel anything like that for anyone."
Jack thumbs at the lip of his beer can. "Usually," he repeats, voice softer. "Meaning...?"
"Meaning - I like this. I like talking with you. I like letting you in, and I think you like letting me in, too. I like being close to you. I think that what I feel for you is new and scary, but. Worth it.
But -- I'm worried that there are things you'd want that I won't feel comfortable with, and..."
"Samira," Jack says, lifting his good leg onto the bench and turning toward her fully. "I would never ask you to do anything you aren't comfortable with."
Samira's mouth quirks at one side. "Two words, Abbot. Pigtail catheter."
Jack smirks. Rolls his eyes. "I will never ask you to do anything you aren't comfortable with outside of the hospital. How's that?"
"Better. Jury's still out. We'll have to see."
Jack finishes his beer, thumb wiping away the last drop clinging to his bottom lip. "What're you tellin' me all this for, Samira?"
"Because I think -- I think you're the first person I've ever wondered about. And I trust you. And I think if I asked you to take me out to dinner next weekend, you'd say yes."
Jack grins, small and private, eyes flicking over to her and then back to the beer can in his hands. "Yeah. I'd say yes."
Samira downs the rest of her little wine bottle, buzzed all the way through, eyes sparkling. "Good. Then it's a date."
