langdon remembering literally everything mel said and did in the maybe 10 hours that he knew her… hey mel remember captain scurvy? hey mel i see you’re stressed out, can i turn down the lights for you? remember how you did that for that one patient we had 10 months ago? in the 10 hours i knew you? remember how you patiently explained to that patient what was going on with him in a way he understood? i’m gonna have that same patience with your sister. you know, the sister that came into the ER. the one you chose me to take care of in your place. the sister you dedicate all your time to when you’re not at work. the sister you love more than anyone. she’s in good hands mel. mel do you remember me like i remember you???
@kingdonmicrofic day twenty: stargazing | 494/314 | rating: g
He took her stargazing on their third date.
More accurately, he took her camping. They had both, miraculously, had the same two-day period off. So they drove about two hours outside of Pittsburgh and spent their “weekend” together, just the two of them. Just Mel and Frank.
She found somewhere for them to sit at night, somewhere they could see the sky unimpeded, and told him that her dad always used to stargaze with her on summer nights in their backyard, pointing out comets and planets and galaxies. She asked him if he knew any constellations, and he pretended to point out Ursa Minor to impress her. She called him on his bullshit immediately with a giggle, and then took his hand, using his finger to trace the pattern of the real Ursa Minor in the air.
It was the first time he knew, unequivocally, that he was in love with her.
He guesses that’s why it’s one of the last memories to go.
When Shen first suggested the procedure to him, he had outright refused to even consider it. It was an experimental procedure, first of all, and the last thing he needed was to screw up his brain and not be able to remember his kids, or something.
Plus, he didn’t want to forget her. He wanted it to stop hurting, but he didn’t want to forget her.
Did he?
“I’m just saying, dude,” Shen said, taking a long sip of his iced coffee. “You’ve been moping around here like a kicked puppy for months. I know some researchers at the Cleveland Clinic who specialize in it, and they say it works fucking wonders.”
It only takes seeing one picture of Mel, with someone else’s arm around her shoulders, on Becca’s Instagram for him to tell Shen to schedule a consultation.
The doctors in Cleveland describe something that seems too good to be true. Completely safe, ninety-seven percent effective. It’s an outpatient procedure, they tell him, with minimal recovery time.
The best part? He wouldn’t even realize it was happening. He wouldn’t miss the memories, because he wouldn’t even know they were gone in the first place.
In the end, it’s different than they describe it.
He doesn’t miss her, per se. And in a few weeks, he doesn’t even know who he’s supposed to be forgetting. She’s like a dying flame, flickering less and less brightly with each passing day.
He just knows that, suddenly, he can’t get the color of her eyes right. Or the sound of her laugh.
It’s around the time he can’t remember her name that he thinks he might’ve made a mistake.
So, when he startles awake one night, trying to decipher if the feeling of her hand around his pointing out constellations was real at one point, or was always just a dream, he does something he hasn’t done in a very long time.
we don’t talk nearlyyyyyy enough about frank saying “WE’ll cross that bridge when WE come to it” when mel is nervous after the cops tell her she may possibly need to testify against temu langdon in court. the use of “we” is just sooooooo buzzy like i’ll never get over it
@kingdonmicrofic • Day 20: Stargazing • 314/314 • Rated: M
CW: Infidelity, remorseless homewrecking
•••
Every story had three sides: one side, the opposing side, and the ultimate truth.
From Mel’s perspective, her conscience was clear. She never faced a moral quandary, never looked at anything she couldn’t keep, or took things without asking, let alone steal. All the lackings in her life filled itself or Mel simply trained herself out of her want for them. Mel had a pristine record. And she lived her life with that notion until last night in her best friend’s house where his wife called her a thief. Well, Abby used more colourful language—thieving, conniving, homewrecking bitch—but thief was the main takeaway.
Mel figured that made sense from Abby’s side of things. The woman who looked at her husband wrong, cozied up to him during shifts, spent nights in their bed. Yes, Mel was stealing—she stole glances, stole kisses, stole another woman’s honey, I’m home. He was a stain on her pristine record, a wretched mistake she welcomed between her legs whenever she needed the comfort.
When he kissed her for the first time in the ambulance bay after a difficult shift, she ignored the shift in her morals. He was helping her through a bad day. That was a kiss between friends. When he pulled her into his car weeks later and whispered things between her thighs, Mel thought he was a friend doing another friend a favour. Stress relief.
So when he finally fucked her and pulled her to his chest, Mel figured it was another friendly gesture. He lay over her with the full weight of his body over hers, tracing her skin. His whispers tickled her ear as he told her the love bites and moles on her body were nebulas and constellations, and he was one lucky stargazing bastard.
Ultimately, Mel knew she and her best friend were inseparable—a truth his wife recently learned.
not only Dana’s whole conversation in the staircase with Mel in S2 the most neurotypical response you can give to a neurodivergent woman who is feeling like shit, but it’s there to truly show that even the people which the show has shown to be sympathetic and have good intentions; still doesn’t compare to how Langdon is the only one in that fucking hospital that understands her and is making the effort to do so. I guess people get shocked by it because it’s a man out of everybody who makes her comfortable and feel seen, but also; you shouldn’t be surprised by this because the show is literally telling you how much they care and understand each other
for @kingdonmicrofic day 16: glitter | 499 words | ao3
Frank watched from the porch as the woman dressed in ridiculously glittery princess garb entertained his daughter and her friends. Abby had done a great job with planning the party and he really had to hand it to her for hiring a 'real-life princess' because the kids were completely enamored, following her around and asking her about what being a princess was like. It was adorable. He was thankful for how well he and Abby were getting along while co-parenting.
Penny came running towards him, jumping into his arms. He hoisted her up and she transferred the tiara she was wearing to his head.
"Daddy! Now you can be a princess too! Princess Mel said so!" Penny exclaimed.
"Oh, Princess Mel did, did she?"
"Yes! Mommy is Queen and I'm Princess Penny and you're Princess Daddy."
He gave her a big kiss on the cheek. "What about Tanner, Pen?"
She furrowed her brow as she pondered. "He can be a knight!"
Frank audibly chuckled. "Not a prince?" Penny shook her head and his heart nearly burst at his daughter's cuteness. She started wiggling and he set her down. She grabbed his hand, pulling him towards the face-painting.
"Daddy needs princess face paint too, Princess Mel!" Princess Mel gave him a small smile and gestured for him to take a seat. She leaned in close to work and he didn't have anywhere else to look so he just watched her—how her eyes roved over his face, how a little crease in-between her eyebrows appeared as she focused—and wondered what she must think of him.
When she was done, she held up a mirror and he started grinning; her work was delightfully charming. She blushed and said, "Sorry, I'm used to doing it on kids."
"It's great. I'll wear it with pride," he declared, not missing how she avoided his gaze, pink still dusting her cheeks.
The party lasted only a few hours, thankfully. He waved to the departing families as he collected the trash. Abby had already started washing up in the kitchen.
"Oh, Princess Mel, you don't need to clean up. That's way below your pay grade."
"I don't mind at all," she replied warmly.
"No, really. You should go." He ran a hand through his hair. "You were great today. Pen adored you."
She smiled at him. "Your daughter is very sweet. It was a lovely party."
She walked over to her stuff and gathered her things, sliding on a pair of glasses and pulling her hair back into a single braid with ease. She gave him one final wave before walking into the house and saying her farewells to Abby, then she was gone.
"Abby, do you have Princess Mel's number?" He called out.
"Yeah? Why?"
"No reason," he answered, holding the pair of sneakers she'd left behind. He spent the rest of the night brainstorming a way to spin returning her shoes into an opportunity to see her again, just the two of them.
title: i've got a crush on you
fandom: the pitt
pairing: frank langdon x mel king
rating: t
summary: dr. j gets gossipy.
author's note: i couldn't get this out of brain since last night's ep.
i've got a crush on you
If you had asked him six months ago, when he was in the throes of rehab and recovery, that he would be spending the night after his first shift back at work making a burner TikTok account, he would have laughed in your face.
But, alas, as soon as he gets home from the hospital, that's what he's doing.
Abby took the kids to her mom and dad's house for the weekend because she was fucking mad at him for going back to work earlier than expected. Which made no fucking sense to him, because she seemed to hate when he was home. He thought going back to the hospital would actually help their deteriorating relationship, but no. Instead, she was mad. Everything he did nowadays just made her fucking mad at him.
So, yeah. He's sitting on his couch alone watching reruns of Parks and Recreation and making a burner TikTok account. That's how his life was going right now. What the fuck ever.
He's trying to think of a handle that won't be too obvious. So nothing involving his name or being a doctor or working in the Pitt, but then again, maybe he could use his initials. He laughs out loud, the sound echoing in the empty house, making him wince slightly. Javadi shouldn't have any idea what his middle name is, at least.
He types in his idea.
fml0712
In his parents' defense, the phrase fuck my life (or at least the FML abbreviation) wasn't quite part of everyday vernacular when he was born. Naming him Francis Michael Langdon didn't raise any red flags back then.
Abby hated his initials. She threw a fit the month before they got married because she said there was no way they were gonna be able to have a set of his and hers bath towels embroidered with each of their initials that she had apparently been dreaming of since she was a kid because of, you know, the FML of it all. She said some really mean things about his mom. In hindsight, he probably should've taken that as a sign not to go through with the wedding.
If he's telling the God's honest truth, he loves his initials, especially now. If FML doesn't sum up his existence right now, he doesn't know what does.
He looks at his phone, sees the message pop up that fml0712 is indeed available for use. Perfect. He writes a vague, one-line bio about graduating from Duke, uses a cute picture of the dog for his profile picture.
And then he goes searching.
He did not think to make note of Javadi's username when the eyelash patient showed him her phone for two seconds. He hopes she'll be easy to find. He types dr. j ptmc into the search bar and crosses his fingers.
She's the first account that pops up, surely enough. Her username is doctorjptmcer.
He clicks on her name. Her profile picture is a selfie of her wearing scrubs and her stethoscope while sticking her tongue out, and her bio reads pitt med '27. we in da pitt.
He chuckles around one of the potato chips he's snacking on, and then chokes when he sees her follower count.
"75,000?" he mutters to himself, his eyebrows raising. "Holy fuck, Javadi."
He scrolls through her most recent posts, careful not to like any of them, smirking when he reads the captions.
GRWM for night shift in the er
med student looking to go into emergency medicine: ama
how to cope with difficult coworkers
last-minute study tips for when you realize that huge exam is actually tomorrow 🫣
why figs is my favorite brand of scrubs
He laughs loudly again. The dog, who is laying on the couch next to him, raises his head.
"Sorry, bud," he says, reaching over to pat his head.
Javadi had sworn him to secrecy that day, right after they discharged eyelash girl, and he agreed. But now, looking at his phone screen with a shit-eating grin, he knew he was going to have some fun with this.
***
He starts watching her videos religiously, even setting up his TikTok account to send him a notification whenever she posts something. He learns that she puts out new content at least three times a week, usually in the evenings, either after day shift or right before night shift starts.
Which usually means, since he's exclusively working day shifts for the time being, the notifications come in during dinner. He never checks his phone at the table when the kids are eating with him, but he'd gotten home late and they were in bed by the time he walked in. He's eating cold pasta while Abby sits across from him and glares. She'd given him shit for being late, not caring that he'd helped save two lives by staying a bit longer. Again, what the fuck ever.
His phone dings, so he picks it up. Abby probably is going to give him the cold shoulder for three days anyhow, so who cares.
Surely enough, it's another video from doctorjptmcer. He looks at the caption.
so what's the big deal with mono?
He grins.
"Y'know, I hate when you're on your phone during dinner."
His jaw clenches, and he fights the urge to roll his eyes. But on the bright side – depending how you look at it these days, he guesses – she's talking to him. Even if she's trying to make him feel like shit.
"I'm never on my phone at dinner," he answers calmly.
"What do you think this is?"
"Abby," he sighs, dropping his phone on the table and running a hand over his face. "The kids are in bed and you're not even eating anything. I don't think this qualifies as dinner."
"Is she pretty?"
"What are you talking about?" he asks, lost.
"The girl you're texting. Is she pretty?"
"Oh my God, Abby," he says, not hesitating to roll his eyes this time. "I'm not texting anyone."
"Fine. What are you doing, then?"
He stares at her wearily. He was frustrated for a long time when she started getting on his case about every single fucking thing like this post-rehab. But these days, it just makes him tired.
He considers his next words. She accuses him of having an affair at least once a week now. He thinks about ignoring her, but then he says fuck it. She'll probably never see anyone from PTMC again anyways. What's the harm, especially if it gets her off his back for awhile.
“So,” he begins, and she looks at him curiously when she hears his casual tone. “We have this med student at the Pitt with this TikTok account.”
She stares at him blankly.
“Okay. So what?”
He leans closer to the table, lowering his voice.
“It’s a secret TikTok account. With more than 75,000 followers. That I only know about because someone came in the ER awhile back asking for her by name.”
“Oh?” she asks.
He can tell her curiosity is piqued. Thank God.
“Oh,” he confirms. “So, I made a burner TikTok account so I can watch her videos. And like, surreptitiously tease her about it.”
“Surreptitiously?”
“Yeah,” he says, shrugging. “She made me promise not to tell anyone. She’s afraid she’ll get in trouble for giving out unvetted medical advice. Which, honestly, is a valid concern.”
“Huh.”
He stares at her cautiously. She actually seems…not mad at him for once. So he takes the plunge.
“Here, come here,” he tells her, waving her over with his hand. “I’ll show you.”
She gets up slowly, walking around the table and sitting in Tanner’s usual seat, scooting it closer to him so she can see his phone screen. This is literally the closest they’ve been in months. He presses play on the latest video. Javadi’s enthusiastic voice starts to ring out in his dining room.
“Hi guys, Dr. J here. Happy Wednesday! So, I thought today I would talk about one of the most common illnesses spread around by people our age – mono.”
They laugh as they watch the video. Abby is the nicest she’s been to him since he got out of rehab.
Maybe having a shared secret will be good for their relationship.
***
And it is good for their relationship. They put the kids to bed early every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday night so they can sit on the couch next to each other and watch Dr. J. They laugh together, talk normally. It almost isn’t bad.
They still don’t kiss or fuck or even sleep in the same bed, and he’s more and more sure every day that he’s not in love with her anymore. But it almost feels like they’re kind of friends. He’ll take it.
So, yeah, it’s good for their relationship. For about three months.
Then, of course, it all blows up in his fucking face.
He comes home on Friday night in a good mood. Work was busy, so the shift flew by. He and Mel were paired together basically all day and got to do three STEMIs together, breaking their personal best time on the last one. Also, she brought him snickerdoodles that she and Becca made together the night before, making sure they were soft and chewy instead of crunchy, just the way he liked them. Then, it started pouring about an hour before their shift ended, so he got to drive her home. And she invited him in and they watched an episode of New Girl together. She’s making him watch it – it isn’t really his cup of tea, but sitting there and watching her laugh until tears wells in her eyes makes it worth it. He’d sit and watch paint dry with her as long as he got to hear her laugh like that.
So when he walks in the door on Friday, he’s in a fucking good mood. But then, he opens the door, and Abby is standing in standing in the foyer waiting for him. He gets worried for a few seconds, but then he sees the delighted grin on her face.
“Guess fucking what?”
“Uh,” he says, as he toes his shoes off.
She doesn’t even let him guess.
“Dr. J is going live on TikTok in like, ten fucking minutes.”
Abby has a burner TikTok account, now, too. His eyes light up.
“No fucking way.”
“Yes, way. I already put the kids to bed.”
And they’re off. He runs up the stairs and kisses Tanner and Penny goodnight, even though they’re both zonked already, and then rushes back. Abby hand him a leftover plate of dinner – baked chicken and mashed potatoes and broccolini. He’s not that hungry, because he ate some mac and cheese with Mel at her place, but he doesn’t tell her that – she’d flip – planning to shove at least a few bites down. They sit on the couch, he screencasts his phone on the TV, and they join the waiting room.
“What do you think it’s going to be about?” Abby asks him, as he picks at the potatoes. “She’s never gone live before, has she?”
“Not since I’ve been following her. I can’t think of anything that happened today that was particularly out of the ordinary, so who fucking knows.”
Then, Victoria’s face appears on screen. They both shut up, eyes glued to the television.
“Hi, everyone! Dr. J here. Happy Friday! Now, you mightbe wondering why I’m live tonight. I have a biiiit of a different kind of video planned for you guys.”
“Come on, Dr. J. Just tell us,” he mutters.
Abby snickers.
“Okay, so, I usually like to keep my nose out of other people’s business when I’m at work. But sometimes, something happens and you’ve just got to tell someone. And today was one of those days.”
“Oooh, hot gossip,” Abby murmurs to him. “I’m down.”
He frowns, trying to rack his brain for something weird that happened today. He prides himself on keeping to himself at work regarding personal matters – which is why no one but Mel knows about how things with Abby are going – but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t hear any gossip. He’s not Princess or Perlah or Trinity by any means, but he keeps his ear to the ground.
So what the fuck is Javadi talking about?
“Okay,” she continues, her voice blasting in the otherwise silent living room. He turns down the volume a few clicks, but Abby reaches over him and turns it back up.
“What are you doing?” she asks. “I want to make sure I hear everything. You haven’t told me anything about your coworkers lately. I want to know what’s up.”
“So, I’m sure you guys have had friends before that swear up and down there’s nothing going on between them, but everyone with eyes can see that they’re either totally full of shit or painfully oblivious. Well, that has been happening in the PTMC ER for months now.”
He gets a sinking feeling in his stomach.
“So, there’s these two doctors. And they are, like, totally in love with each other. Like, it’s over the top. They’re always whispering to each other and have a bunch of inside jokes that no one else can understand. They carpool all the time, go get dinner after shifts without inviting anyone else. And they’ve always been super touchy – which is strange, because the girl is so weird about being touched by anyone else – but recently it’s gotten, like, ten times worse. Especially the guy. Like, my God. He’s constantly putting his hand on her back, tugging on the end of her braid, rubbing her shoulders, grabbing her hand to tug her around the department. And she just kind of melts into him every time he has a hand on her.”
He’s staring at the TV with his jaw hanging open. He can feel Abby’s uneasiness amping up.
But he can’t tear his eyes away. It’s like watching a train wreck, or an MVC on the highway.
“We have a secret betting pool in the security office, and everyone is putting money when and how we’ll find out they’re together. But they’re not budging on the just friends thing, and no one knows whether to believe them or not.”
He’s reached his limit. He can’t listen to this anymore. He goes to grab the remote and his phone, but Abby reaches out in a flash and stops his hands.
“And the thing is, they are so cute together. Like, they have these personalities that you think wouldn’t mesh. He’s super classically attractive – we have a surgical resident that calls him ER Ken – and he’s cocky and kind of an asshole sometimes. But he just goes so soft when he’s around her, and he’s always asking if she’s okay or needs anything or if he can do anything for her. And she’s pretty quiet, kind of awkward, but when he’s with her, she just kind of lights up. She gets more confident and smiley and jokey and it’s just…really sweet to watch.”
“Abby,” he breathes.
Her hands tighten around his wrists.
“So today, I go into the break room and they’re sitting there finishing up sharing their lunches. I kind of just sit at another table, because they’re giving literal heart eyes to each other, when the guy gets paged. So he stands up, looks at the girl, says See you out there, sweetheart and kisses her on the forehead.”
He’s pretty sure Abby’s grip is cutting off his circulation.
“And you want to know what the messiest part of this whole thing is?” she asks.
Oh, God. Oh, God. He looks at the corner of the screen. There’s more than 5,000 people watching. Holy fucking shit.
“He’s married with kids.”
He rips his hands from Abby’s, and he slams the power button on the remote. The TV goes black.
They sit in silence for a few minutes. Abby is about to kill him. He’s sure Abby is about to kill him. He should probably let her.
Finally, he hears her turn her body towards him. He glances up reluctantly. She’s glaring at him with so much fury in her eyes that his blood runs cold.
And then, she says it. So calm and matter-of-factly. He thinks that makes it scarier.
“Get the fuck out of my house.”
***
He gets served divorce papers in the middle of the ER two hours into his shift the next day. By the fucking constable. It’s the most uncomfortable thing that’s happened to him since the drug problem was revealed. In fact, he thinks this might be more humiliating. The drug thing was more sad than embarrassing.
He deserves it, though. He knows he fucking deserves it.
Everyone just gapes at him after the constable finally leaves, mouths hanging open, eyes nearly popping out of their heads, from the attendings to the patients to the janitors. He finds Mel’s gaze without trying from across the department, because of course he does. She’s just staring at him, her mouth formed into the most perfect little ‘o’.
And you know what the first thought in his mind is, when he looks at her? Just how fucking adorable she is. Jesus Christ, Javadi is right. He is in love with her.
Robby is the first one to talk.
“What in the fuck just happened here?”
He shuffles on his feet, hand coming up to scratch the back of his neck nervously.
“Well, I, uh…am getting divorced. Obviously.”
“Did you know about this? That Abby was going to do it this way?” Dana asks, walking over to him, a sympathetic look on her face.
“Um. No.”
“Jesus,” Cassie jumps in. “Who pissed in her cornflakes this morning, then?”
And he laughs. He actually fucking laughs. Maybe to keep from crying. Maybe in relief, honestly.
Everyone looks at him like he’s the fucking Kraken or something.
“Nothing, it’s nothing,” he assures them, trying to stop cracking the fuck up. “It’s just…I know exactly who pissed in her cornflakes.”
And he looks pointedly at Javadi, who is staring at him like she’s a deer in the middle of the road and he’s a fucking semi-truck.
“Oh, shit,” he sees her mouth.
“Who?” Dana asks, looking absolutely bewildered. Everybody looks so fucking confused.
Except Javadi.
“Why, I think it was Dr. J.”
***
They make Javadi take down her TikTok after that. Turns out, it was, in fact, very inappropriate and very against the rules for her to be giving out unsolicited medical advice online as a student calling herself a doctor. She only gets a slap on the wrist, though. Her mother is head of surgery, after all.
She doesn’t make eye contact with him for a whole month afterwards. He finds out from Robby later on that she specifically asked to not be any cases with him or Mel, for fear of, ‘getting my fucking head ripped off.’
But after about three days, he can’t find it in himself to be mad at her anymore. Because after three days, he and Mel finally have a conversation about what is going on between them. A conversation they should’ve had a while ago.
And when he comes into the ER the next day, basically bouncing off the walls because Mel’s fingers are intertwined with his and he finally, finally knows what it’s like to kiss her, Javadi has no clue. Because, again, she won’t fucking look at either of them.
She gets better after a while, but still avoids being alone with him and when they talk, she always stares at his feet instead of his eyes. He tries to be extra nice to her, even thinks about sitting her down and talking to her a few times, but whenever he tries, she literally runs from him.
It’s not until the Pitt’s annual Christmas party that he gets to break the ice. He asks for her specifically for the Secret Santa gift exchange. When it’s her turn to open her present, and he gets up to give it to her, it’s almost as bad as those first three weeks. She looks like she’s going to shit herself.
But he smiles, hands her the gift.
“For you, Dr. J,” he says.
He’s pretty sure she almost falls out of her chair. When he gets back to his seat, Mel reaches out for his hand, laces their fingers together. This is really from both of them. They really owe her one.
So when she opens her gift – a brand new white coat that they spent way over $20 on, but who fucking cares – her jaw falls open.
“Oh my God, Langdon, this is so nice!”
She looks at him. He grins back.
“Look at what’s embroidered on the front right pocket.”
She takes the coat, glances at it. Her eyes pop for a second.
“Well, what does it say, Crash?” Trinity asks impatiently.
Attending Physician Dr. Frank Langdon will never allow anyone to feel abandoned during an absence from work.
He’s meticulous about sending flowers for medical leave and a PTMC branded baby onesie for parental leave. He schedules calls in the week ahead of employees’ return to work so no one ever has to wonder what their first day back will look like.
And there’s always cake or some other little to-do on the day of return. And no the department wouldn’t pay for any of this shit, that’s all coming from his own pocket, and everyone knows it.
so i know ive already spoken at length about the symbolism and visual story telling choice to have kingdon ambulance bay conversations slowly get further from the ED as their conversations stray farther from work, but i wanted to point out something else because im insane.
not only do they just occur further away, but each time they speak in the ambulance bay, frank intentionally seeks her out, and each time he is willing to travel a further distance and cause more disruption to his daily routine for her.
now everything is a kingdom cathedral if you’re insane, but is this not progressive storytelling letting us know visually that as he continues to get to know her, he is becoming more and more willing to go out of his way for her and do things that don’t make sense for him to be doing unless his intention is to center her in his life?
just a thought because i’ll never get over it and whatever ambulance bay scene we get in season four is probably going to kill me lol
day fourteen: cake, 496 words (and a little nsfw!)
@kingdonmicrofic
There’s a cake from his favourite bakery in the break room, and he blushes when Dr. King says that she’s looking forward to working with him during his residency, that she’s glad this isn’t goodbye.
It’s not just that it’s an attending saying all of this, it’s that it’s Dr. King, it’s Mel.
He can’t help the crush he’s had on her since the first day of his ER rotation.
And now that he matched at PTMC for his residency, he doesn’t know how he’s going to make it through the next four years.
He doesn’t eat the slice of cake someone hands to him, stomach in knots, so she makes him take the leftovers at the end of their shift.
As they walk to her car, he lets her ramble about patients and hospital politics and journal articles she’s read like he usually does.
But he doesn’t go around to the passenger side, and it makes her pause.
Then he reaches for her, grabbing at her waist, and gets caught in her orbit. He’s been half hard all day with her attention and praise, and he can’t take it anymore.
She puts her hand on his chest, and he thinks she’s going to push him away, reprimand him, but she pulls him closer by tugging his scrub top.
He drops the cake box to the ground and drops his forehead to hers.
It’s dizzying, their chests brushing with every breath, lips almost touching, her hand warm against his chest. He’s so hard now, she must be able to feel it because there’s hardly any space between them.
“Dr. King,” he whispers. “Mel.”
Her hand trails down his abdomen, making his breath hitch, and he thinks she’s going to put her hand in his pants, jerk him off right here in the hospital parking garage. But she just puts her hand on his hip, moving him closer until he’s pressed against her.
He starts to apologize, but she cuts him off, tells him it’s OK.
“C’mon, you can do it, baby,” she says, and he whines, hips thrusting involuntarily, making his clothed cock grind against her. “What do you need?”
“Just you.”
“You have me, Frank.”
She never calls him that. It’s just Langdon around the hospital, student doctor Langdon when they’re with patients, and Dr. Frank Langdon, my best medical student, when he saw her out with her husband — now ex-husband — and she introduced them.
And it does something to him, hearing her say his name.
Her hand on his hip is guiding him now, helping him.
It only takes a few more thrusts and a whisper of his name to make him come, and he drops his head back, bites his lips to quiet his moans.
She puts a hand on his face, tilting his head down so he’s looking at her.
He exhales at the sight of her blush, knowing she wants him, and asks, “Can we go to your place?”
