Meredith Medical Center
MMC is a serial story. Please see the 10-5-10 posting for Part Two.
Part Three 11-18-10
By Whitley Gray
Content advisory: m/m sex; oral sex; profanity
Meredith City is a major health care hub, located in the upper Midwest. With a large trauma center, doctors covet the training positions and put up with difficult schedules in exchange for the opportunity. Not all of the opportunities are purely medical…
Doctor Sam Larkin glanced at his watch. Almost seven. He’d hand off to the doc coming in for the night shift in the ER, then take off for home.
He gulped cold coffee and went back to signing charts.
A blond head poked around the corner. “Hey. About finished?”
Sam leaned back in his chair, studying the man in front of him.
Doctor Leo DeCosta was six feet of California surfer boy turned Emergency Medicine physician. Shapeless green hospital scrubs couldn’t disguise the athletic lines of the guy’s body. Blond hair waved down to broad shoulders. Eyes the color of aquamarines set in the face of a model. Throw in a wicked smile and a day’s worth of stubble, and the guy was damned near irresistible.
Just one problem.
Sam was gay, and he wasn’t sure about Leo’s preferences.
The wicked smile made an appearance. “Want to grab a beer after shift change?”
Sam rocked forward in the desk chair. “Thanks, but no. Just going to finish up here, then head home.”
Leo leaned up against the doorframe and crossed his arms. “Ah, come on, Sam. Don’t make me drink alone.”
Tempting. Very tempting. But not worth it if they had opposing interests. Their easy friendship at work might not extend beyond the confines of the ER. Besides, not be a great idea to start something with someone at work. Awkward if things went south.
Leo raised one eyebrow in question.
Sam locked onto the aquamarine eyes. “Sorry. Can’t make it. What about Seri? She’s done at shift change, too.”
For several seconds, Leo stared him down, and Sam had to look away. He was in significant danger of giving in if he maintained eye contact.
There was a knock on the doorframe. “Okay. See ya.”
He caught a glimpse of Leo’s fabulous butt as he walked away. Sam ran a hand over his short black hair. Guilt stirred in his stomach. No matter how many times he said no, Leo kept issuing the invitations.
He groaned and whipped through the last few charts, signing off the records before shift change. Dr. Luke Granger took charge of the ER at seven tonight, and Sam was so ready to get out of here for the weekend.
Why in the hell was he in a hurry to get home? An intense desire to hear the silence in his condo? Check how much dust might have accumulated over the last fourteen hours?
Luke breezed into the office and dropped into a chair. “Hey, Sam. Whatcha got for me?”
Sam shook his head. The guy loved his job, no doubt about it. Not many people would get excited about spending Friday night at work.
As the ER contained no urgent cases, they got through the hand-off by seven-thirty.
Luke toyed with a pen on the desk. “Slow day, huh?”
Sam slapped his hands on his thighs. “Yep. Hope it’s quiet for you tonight.”
Luke smiled and shook his head. “Nah. I could use a good trauma case. Give me a number thirty chest tube and mechanical ventilation anytime.”
Sam sighed. “See, that’s early career enthusiasm. The desire for the knife and gun club to have a rumble and supply patients.”
“Hey, I live for that stuff. Bet you did too, at some point. You’re not exactly an old man, Larkin.”
Sam gazed across the desk. Yeah, at one time, he’d loved trauma. But it wasn’t enough to take the place of a personal life for the long haul, and the ER had lost its appeal. “Guess I’m just cynical at the end of the shift.”
Luke cocked his head to the side. “Got any plans this weekend?”
Sam deflected the question. “When’s the baby due?”
“Next month.” Luke shook his head and grinned. “Jane’s so ready to get it over with. Like, now.”
“Yeah, well let me know when the blessed event happens.” Sam got to his feet and headed for the door. “Gotta get going. Have a good one.”
“It’s Friday. Bound to be good,” Luke called after him.
Sam trudged upstairs to the third floor physician’s lounge. No one showered or changed in this out-of-the-way spot at night, and the lock on the door ensured privacy. Which sounded pretty damn good at this point.
The door wasn’t locked. He walked into the room and shot the deadbolt. The place was semi-dark; the only illumination came from the bathroom opposite the entrance. On the right, six full-length lockers hugged the wall, and a narrow bench sat in front of them. To the left, the hospital had ripped out the lockers and replaced them with the typical hospital-issue cot.
Other than the muffled dripping of a faucet, silence filled the space. Sam didn’t bother flipping on the overhead light. He’d negotiated the area many times, and he walked on autopilot to his locker. He kicked off his shoes, stripped off his top, and rubbed a hand across his chest.
Maybe he should have said yes to the beer. Even if Leo wasn’t gay, friendship would be better than nothing, which was the current situation. Nothing. No one.
Shit. Too late now.
He sank onto the bench and leaned his forearms on his thighs, clenching his hands together. He couldn’t keep up this isolation thing. Next week, he’d invite Leo for a beer after shift change and find some way to bring up the subject of orientation. No sense in continuing with this standoff.
Yep, a good plan. He stood and pulled open his locker.
A dark figure stepped into the bathroom doorway, silhouetted in the low light. Sam squinted as the man advanced on him. That blond halo could only belong to one person.
“Leo? What are you doing here?”
Sam fisted his hands on his hips. “For what?”
Leo stepped into view, shirtless, torso on display. Damn. In the low light, the shadows of the cut muscles of his chest and arms reminded Sam of fine Italian sculpture. God, the man was a work of art.
Heat flooded Sam’s groin, and he clamped down on his attraction. Or that was the intent, but his cock didn’t get the message. A hard-on pushed against his scrubs. Sam grabbed a shirt out of his locker and fisted it in front of his pants.
A few feet away, Leo stroked his chest, riveting Sam’s attention.
Shit. He couldn’t do this right now. He needed the weekend to psych himself up, plan what to say. Sam gripped the door of his locker. “Look, about the beer—”
“It’s not about the beer, Sam.” Leo’s hand drifted down the line of hair on his belly and stopped just above the waist of his scrubs.
Sam dragged his eyes back to Leo’s pale blue gaze. “What… is it… about, then?”
Leo took a couple of steps forward and dropped his hand to his groin.
The man had a raging erection. A fresh wave of arousal shot down to Sam’s cock, and he bit down on his tongue to keep from licking his lips.
“You’ve been avoiding me, Sam. I finally decided it must be because you didn’t know, or weren’t sure.” Leo’s hand stroked up the front of his scrub pants, the erection outlined under the thin material. “Now you know.”
Sam swallowed hard. He’d been an idiot, for Chrissakes. Leo had cajoled him for weeks, and Sam had avoided every invitation, every request for companionship. Sam hadn’t agreed to have a beer, watch a game, grab some dinner. Never gave the guy an opportunity.
Hell. He shifted his gaze to the floor. “Leo…”
“It’s okay. This isn’t an ambush. It’s a… declaration.” He pivoted for the bathroom.
Sam picked out the pale green of Leo’s scrub shirt on the sink counter.
Suddenly all the loneliness of the past months crashed in on him. In two strides, he crossed the room and grabbed Leo’s shoulders. Sam pressed his bare chest against the warm skin of Leo’s back. The man froze.
“Sam, you don’t need to do this.”
Sam slid his arms around the other man’s lean waist. This close, he smelled like balsam and sandalwood, with an underlying scent of musky male. Sam shuddered, and his erection grew.
“I want to,” Sam said in a hoarse voice. “I’ve wanted to ask, but I didn’t know— wasn’t sure.”
Leo relaxed, exhaled.
Sam pressed soft kisses along the brown skin as blond hair tickled his nose, and strong fingers gripped his wrists. Sam imagined those tanned hands were capable of all sorts of things: suturing a laceration, throwing a football, providing intense pleasure…
The area where Leo’s neck met his shoulder beckoned, and Sam licked the skin. A hint of salt and an unexpected sweetness rolled across his tongue. Leo dropped his head back, and Sam tasted his neck, bit his earlobe.
Sam pushed his hard shaft against the cleft of Leo’s ass.
Leo groaned and spun Sam around, trapping his wrists against the wall. A hot and hungry mouth pressed against Sam’s, a wonderful masculine assault. Nothing like a man’s firm lips, a man’s kiss.
God, it’d been so long, and kissing had never felt like this, never this sweet. Leo didn’t invade, didn’t grind against him, just took his time. And that was fine with Sam.
Leo licked Sam’s lower lip, requesting entry, and he obliged. Leo’s tongue slid inside, hot and smooth, bringing the taste of peppermint and ramping up the pleasure. Sam’s erection kicked, hard and throbbing.
Suddenly Sam’s wrists were free, and he shoved his hands into Leo’s sun bleached hair. Despite all the sun- and chlorine-induced highlights, the stuff was like silk, a nice surprise.
This whole thing was a nice surprise.
Beards rasping together, Leo moved along the stubble and pressed a kiss to the underside of Sam’s jaw. Tender, not demanding. A warm wet tongue traced a line down to the hollow above his sternum.
Sam moaned and leaned against the wall for support. What else did Leo do well with that mouth? He shuddered and closed his eyes.
Teeth gently closed on his left nipple, and Sam jerked. His cock nearly leaped out of his pants.
Leo pulled back and grinned, his eyes more cerulean now, the pupils dilated with arousal. He dipped once more to kiss Sam’s nipple, and Sam’s hands fell to his sides. He hadn’t been this needy for months, and he wanted Leo to fulfill those needs.
Leo moved up. “You okay?” he whispered.
Sam groaned. “Yeah. Yeah.”
“You want to stop?”
Sam took a shaky breath. “No.”
Leo’s thigh gently nudged between his. Sam moved his feet apart, and Leo pressed against him, their cocks rubbing together, the friction delicious through the well-worn cotton of their scrubs. Leo was just as aroused as he was, that massive erection pushing on his hip and groin.
“What do you want?” Leo whispered next to his ear, then ran his lips over Sam’s, soft butterfly kisses.
“Want?” he panted.
“You want my mouth? My cock?” Leo traced Sam’s lips with a warm tongue, stroked his fingers down Sam’s sensitive shaft, and he bucked against Leo’s hand.
A gentle squeeze of the testicles, then more stroking. “What do you want, Sam?”
It was more a question of what did he want first. God, he couldn’t breathe. Leo’s hands felt so good on him; he wasn’t going to last long. It’d be nice if someone unfroze his vocal cords about now.
“Mouth,” he gasped.
The wicked sexy grin spread across Leo’s face. He loosened the ties on Sam’s scrub pants and pushed them down, taking the boxer briefs along with them, and Sam’s erection bobbed forward. He kicked free of the clothing and blew out a breath. A relief to get rid of that confinement.
Leo sank onto his knees and took Sam’s cock into his mouth.
The first touch of that hot tongue had Sam throwing back his head, hips bucking like a damn virgin. Soft lips, then the gentle scrape of teeth, then pressure, first gentle, then hard. Gentle, then hard. Leo worked his erection, that gifted mouth pulling Sam higher and higher, to the top of the roller coaster. He slid his hands into Leo’s hair, holding on but not forcing.
Leo backed off and looked up, grinning wickedly.
Sam’s thighs trembled, and he braced his back against the wall, praying to stay upright. He wasn’t stopping, was he? Because the pleasure verged on pain, and release was mandatory.
Leo’s tongue swirled around the head, tickled the cleft, dipped into the slit, and then pulled in his entire length. Wet heat squeezed Sam’s cock, and tension gathered in the small of his back, signaling impending orgasm. He tried to warn Leo, give him a chance to pull away.
“I’m… going to—”
Leo stayed put, sucked hard.
Sam came, more forcefully than he’d ever experienced.
Absolute ecstasy. His vision grayed down, and he sagged against the wall. Leo finished him, then stood and wrapped him in those strong tan arms, providing support and murmuring reassurances as his sight cleared. Sam hugged back and buried his nose in the heady fragrance of Leo’s skin.
Salty musky lips kissed Sam’s. “I’ve waited so long for that, Sam. Thought I’d never see the day.”
Sam’s throat tightened. All those months alone, and Leo had been right here, patiently waiting. He brushed back damp blond strands and met the aquamarine gaze. “What do you want?”
Sam grinned. “Yeah, want.”
“Want to try out the cot?”
Please return next month for the next installment of Meredith Medical Center!
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Copyright © 2010 Whitley Gray
All rights reserved. This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, locations, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination, or have been used fictionally. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, locales, or events is entirely coincidental. No portion of this work may be transmitted or reproduced in any form, or by any means, without permission in writing from the author.