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Carmine Mitchell was 31, married, with a two-year-old. She had two sisters, one 34, the eldest 39. She worked in a local art gallery. She had two cats. Her husband’s name was Nate. Her daughter’s name was Lily. Carmine Mitchell was 31 when she coded on the operating table in front of John Carter, his gloved hands trembling as he withdrew them from her open chest. The lacerations from the shrapnel to her intestines and heart had left her too weak to allow for recovery. He couldn’t stitch fast enough. He couldn’t work fast enough. He had failed.
Dread settled over his shoulders and jaw as he stepped back, mindlessly degloving himself and washing his hands. Abbot and Garcia were saying something he couldn’t quite make out, not for lack of trying. He just couldn’t seem to think.
He would have to tell them. Carmine’s family had been eagerly awaiting any word of her recovery, holed up in the family room. He could already see their devastated expressions in his mind, the turn from hopeful to hopeless. Bereft.
He had to do it. He left trauma one, and suddenly felt a hand grasping his shoulder, stopping him in his tracks. He blinked, feeling the noise of the ER come crashing down around him as the touch suddenly became real. Monitors pulsed, people’s footsteps echoed, patients bemoaned and groaned, doctors complained. He met Abbot’s eyes, the attending completely silent. Calm.
“Did you hear what I said?” The words came after a beat, and Abbot squeezed Carter’s shoulder in a gentle fashion. Delicate.
“Uh- yeah.” Carter lied, smoothing his hand over his face and through his hair, “No.”
“You did everything right. I’m not placating you, Carter,” Abbot moved to stand in front of him, eyes softening by the second, “I let you lead that operation because I trust your abilities.”
“Yeah,” Carter affirmed, rethinking every minor mistake his hands made, what he could have worked on first instead, “I know.”
“Just tell them the facts, why she wasn’t going to make it. I know you can handle it.” Abbot assured him, briefly cupping his neck and leaning forward to make sure Carter directly looked at him. Carter snapped his eyes from Abbot’s chest to his gaze and nodded quickly.
“Yeah, I… I got it. Thanks.” He nodded again, this time trying to reassure himself, and started towards the family room. Abbot watched him go before immediately heading for the charge station.
The next five minutes were a blur of questions. Why couldn’t he stop the blood? Why didn’t the stitches work? Why didn’t he stitch faster? Why were they letting an intern do this? Was she awake? Was she in pain? Did she know? Did she know? Did she know?
Carter could barely keep up, but her family deserved that much. They deserved a lot more. They deserved a better doctor. He should have insisted Abbot or Garcia work on her instead of him. Carmine’s eldest sister was the most inquisitive, arms crossed across her chest, face stained with tears.
“I’m sorry. I wish I could have worked faster.” He softly admitted, echoing the words he’d heard so many times from his fellow practitioners. No one had ever warned him mourning was a skill required for this occupation.
“Then why the hell didn’t you?” The voice had come from behind Carmine’s eldest sister, and Carter snapped out of his self-pitying spiral once more. Carmine’s husband approached their quiet conversation with a grief-stricken fury, and grabbed Carter by the front of his coat.
“You don’t know what you’re doing. You’re just a kid. You don’t know anything.” The man snarled, a sob biting at the back of his throat. Carter stumbled over his explanations, his excuses, his lies. The man was right.
“I-..” He stilled, feeling the dread worsen, curdling like bile in the back of his throat, “I know.”
John thought he was admitting what the man wanted to hear, but his face only further contorted in anger. He shoved him back, pointing a finger in his direction and raising his voice in a wobbly spiral.
“You fucking- you don’t know ANYTHING. You KILLED HER!” Everyone froze. Even the husband seemed to realize he was blaming someone who deserved no contempt. Carmine’s husband promptly burst into tears, sending the room into full eruption.
The eldest sister went to comfort him while the middle sister immediately began pressing Carter with accusatory questions. Carmine’s parents resumed their crying confessions, how their misdeeds and mistakes as parents led them to this place.
Carter’s head was spinning as he simultaneously answered questions, comforted, and tried to calm. It was only when the door to the family room opened that he took in a breath he was unknowingly holding back. It was Abbot, jaw set and face completely still of emotion. John hadn’t realized a lot of people had probably heard the outburst.
“Dr. Carter, I need you for a moment.” Abbot opened the door further, a silent command. Carter just nodded, immediately leaving the chaos of the room for the quiet of the empty hallway. Abbot closed the door behind them, eyes shut. He took a steadying breath and opened them, fixing John with a firm look.
“Go to the on-call room. You need a break. I’ll handle this,” Abbot ordered, slightly more tense than usual. Carter frowned, furrowing his brows and going to defend himself- this was his responsibility, after all, “Do not argue with me.”
They stared. Abbot raised a brow.
The on-call room was dimly lit by a lamp in the corner, set up with two beds, a desk, a bathroom with a shower, and a fridge. It was strange, how fast his panic had faded. The anxiety of being in that room never got easier, never faded. At least the on-call room was a welcome relief.
He could only imagine what Abbot was going through, having to field questions about why he was letting stupid kids operate on life-or-death cases. He gave John too much leeway, he knew that. Abbot was very well-known as the most forgiving attending in the Pitt, but he really hadn’t expected this kind of grace. It was… good. It was nice. It made him feel like a little less of a fuck-up, not having an attending screaming in his face at 2 in the morning. Yeah, definitely good.
Even with the calm, he was restless. His mind would occasionally peak and send his thoughts racing back to Carmine, back to her family, her daughter. He was aimless, unable to still himself. It wasn’t long before he was pacing, trying to keep his thoughts on better things. Maybe he’d just bite the bullet- go home early. Yeah, that would be nice. He’d go home, take a scalding shower, and let Peter screw his brains out. He needed the distraction- he’d earned it after eight hours of this shit, right?
Then again… he glanced at the door. It hadn’t been nothing, when he’d kissed Abbot on the rooftop, all those weeks ago. Finding him on the roof, questioning him, he knew Abbot was just trying to distract him from his inquiries- but that didn’t mean it was nothing.. right? Maybe someone else could distract him.
He was sat on one of the beds, patiently waiting, when Abbot came in at last. The attending ducked in quickly and watched Carter with a careful look, running a hand through his hair. John could tell he was worried about him, that much was obvious. His intrusive proposal died in his throat. What the fuck was he thinking? Someone had died because of him. He was a moron. Fuck.
“Hey,” Abbot immediately sat beside him, and Carter figured he must have seen his expression break down, “They’re going to be okay.”
“No- no, they’re not.” Carter said with such finality it made Abbot pause. Abbot put his hand over his shoulder and pulled him into his side, giving the most minute of nods.
“No. Not right now,” He admitted, and Carter pursed his lips, tears welling, “But one day.”
“Fuck.”
Abbot only nodded in agreement. Carter silently cried, the dread returning to cloud his mind again. All those thoughts he would never let die, all the people he would never let rest. He didn’t know if he could handle it. He didn’t know how anyone could handle it. He glanced at Abbot through his tears, struck with a perturbed confusion. How did he do it? How did anyone? Was Abbot superhuman, to maintain the level of patience and dignity he always held? Would he ever reach that level?
“I… I don’t think I can do this. It’s too much. My head is- my thoughts- I can’t make them stop.” He found himself holding onto Abbot’s scrubs, clinging like a lifeline.
It suddenly clicked for him. It wasn’t casual. He fucking needed this. He needed it from someone who understood, who had been through it, seen the things he’d seen, felt what he’d felt, grieved as he had. He needed this.
“I- I need you to make them stop.” He pleaded, taking a shuddering breath. He knew he must have looked insane.
“Please. Just make it all go away.”
“I…” Abbot searched Carter’s face, staring in a way that made him feel seen, like Abbot had been exactly where he was before, “Ok. I’ll make them stop.”
Carter kept his eyes steadily fixed on Abbot as he moved them further onto the twin-sized bed, while Abbot cast a side-eyed glance towards the door. It was unlocked. Neither made a move for it. Abbot shucked Carter’s shoes and slid his pants off, pausing to run his hands up his torso, groping lightly.
“I.. you.. you know I’m trans, right?” Carter felt a tinge of uncertainty, nervousness blooming in his gut. Abbot leaned down and kissed up his stomach, ducking his head under his shirt and immediately scraping his teeth over one of his nipples.
“I didn’t know, no.” Abbot muttered, all too quick to start making a mark over his right pec. Carter gasped lightly, biting his lip and looking at the frame of Abbot’s head through his shirt. Despite the rush of adrenaline, he was relieved to know Abbot could have clearly cared less.
After a minute more, Abbot leaned back and pushed Carter’s legs up, stripping him of his boxers. He held his legs together and pushed them back towards Carter’s chest, fully exposing his cunt. John flushed, head going a little fuzzy as he watched Abbot exhale deeply, nose flaring.
“I’m gonna eat you out. Then I’m gonna fuck you. Deal?” It seemed to take genuine effort for Abbot to tear his eyes off Carter’s hole, meeting his gaze evenly. There wasn’t any real aggression in his statement, Carter even saw a hint of nervousness in the way Abbot bit the inside of his cheek, waiting for permission.
“Uh.. yes. Yeah- deal.” Carter flushed again, feeling his neck and chest start to heat up. Abbot nodded, immediately sinking down.
Keeping one hand on his legs, ensuring they stayed pinned to his chest, Abbot used the other hand to spread his cunt and lick a stripe over him. He gently lapped at his cock, which was pulsing and getting more worked up by the second. Carter whined softly, sucking on his bottom lip impatiently. Abbot kept lapping at him, eventually wrapping his lips around him to suck.
“O-Oh-“ Carter gasped, jolting at the sensation. Abbot hummed, staying for a second longer before moving down to start on his hole. His tongue laved over his cunt like he was starving, digging inside him and making him squirm. This was bad, and by bad he meant really fucking good. Abbot’s thumb was tracing over his cock, rubbing evenly paced circles as he worked his cunt.
“It- I- Dr- Dr. Abbot-“ He moaned out, needy and feeling rather helpless. He was gripping the blankets, trying to steady himself from getting a cramp in the legs.
Abbot lifted his head, tilting it and fixing Carter with a questioning look. His chin and lips were slicked, and watching him idly lick his lips made Carter feel dizzy.
“Yeah, kid?” He groped his thighs in the interim, and Carter gasped when he felt the man use both his thumbs to spread him wide open.
“I- I- fuck- that’s embarrassing-“ He mumbled, covering his face with his arms, “Just- my god.”
“Not my fault you got such a pretty hole.”
Abbot smiled at Carter’s agape mouth, shrugged, and leaned back down. Carter felt him practically bury his face against him, delving his tongue up inside until he really squirmed, clenching down and groaning. Abbot’s thumb returned to his cock, the pace faster this time.
It was like he could read him perfectly, that he could tell how his thigh twitches meant he wanted it deeper, how his clenching meant harder, and how every one of his moans was a wordless plead. It wasn’t long before his gut was practically burning him alive, his cunt starting to ache with the desire to cum his absolute fucking brains out.
He was rocking his hips carelessly, chasing his attending’s mouth and fingers. It was so fucking good. Abbot was eagerly rubbing his cock raw, in perfect time with the rhythm of his tongue. It was all so much, and just not enough. He was already desperate to have Abbot reach all the places inside him his tongue couldn’t.
“‘m close-“ He whimpered, gasping and whining as he felt Abbot start to draw out his orgasm, “O-Oh- oh f-fuck- ‘m gonna cum-“
Abbot kept the exact same pace, the feeling of his pleased hum running up Carter’s spine as pleasure overtook him. His thighs trembled and shook, his eyes nearly rolled back as he clenched and clenched and came his brains out, euphoria lighting up the inside of his head. It was a rolling movement, drawing out spasm after spasm, until he was still having small aftershock even after a full minute.
Abbot was already up by the time Carter came back to his senses, watching the young man with a quiet adoration. Carter relaxed his legs, setting his feet against Abbot’s crotch, drawing out a tense breath.
“Mmh, doing okay?” He asked, rubbing his palms over Carter’s calves. He nodded back, clenching on air at the thought of what was coming next.
“Yeah. I’m ready- let’s keep going.” He sat up, putting his legs to the side of Abbot’s waist. Abbot leaned forward and pulled him over, all the way into his lap.
They finally kissed, soft and exploratory, devastatingly eager. Carter ran his fingers through his hair, pressing them chest to chest. Abbot groaned into his mouth, licking his way to nearly choking him with his tongue. He wouldn’t have minded if he did- John doubted there was much Abbot couldn’t get away with in doing to him.
“‘M gonna make you ride me, kid.” He breathed into his mouth, eyes trailing from his lips to his eyes. Carter nodded instantly, he didn’t care how he got it, just that he got Jack Abbot’s dick in him- immediately.
Abbot laid back in the bed, pushing down his pants with his boxers and pulling out his cock, eyes fixed on him. Carter stared, slowly moving over Abbot’s hips. His cock was a good size- he would have guessed between 6 and 7, but more pressingly, it was thick. He groaned at the thought of taking all of him- feeling him everywhere.
“Wait- shit- condoms.” Abbot cursed, leaning up on his elbows and looking around the room. Carter immediately felt displeased at the idea of them practicing safe sex, and he had absolutely no fucking clue why. He did not want to get pregnant, and he wasn’t on the pill so it was absolutely a possibility- even with his testosterone shots. And he didn’t have a breeding thing… right?
He briefly imagined Abbot holding him down, cumming inside him, how Carter would feel it, how Abbot would make him his by painting his insides, the threat of having his baby. Alright. He might have a breeding thing. Besides, he can always just get a night-after pill.
“I- I’m allergic.” Carter blurted out. They stared.
“You’re…”
“Yes.”
Abbot blinked, processing for a moment before slowly nodding, “Okay. Uh. I’ll.. pull out, then.”
Carter moved over Abbot, nodding back. It went unspoken, that the pull-out method was absolutely fucking insane for two doctors to commit to. Shit, they really were doing this. He slowly began to work him in, sucking in a gaspy breath when Abbot started rocking his hips up and down. He let it happen, sinking down in rhythm with his small thrusts, letting out small moans as the head of his cock tapped his g-spot every so often.
“Shit.” Abbot cursed, and Carter felt him pulse inside him. He sighed, making a small noise and putting his hands on Abbot’s chest for stability.
Abbot gripped his thighs and pushed him down in rhythm, bottoming out and groaning loudly. Carter’s breathing picked up and he involuntarily clenched, trying to ignore the stretch inside him.
“‘r gonna kill me kid-“ Abbot groaned again, starting a slow rhythm. Carter nodded breathlessly, rolling his hips in a way that seemed to knock the air out of Abbot’s chest.
He worked up a good momentum, rocking back and forth on his cock, not daring to pull up a little more than a few inches at a time. With the way Abbot’s cock curved it perfectly rubbed against his g-spot, only making him rock back and forth harder. He couldn’t help the utterly pathetic noises that were beginning to leave him as the pressure built.
“Fuck- look at you-“ Abbot breathed out, sounding entranced, and bucked up into Carter, eliciting a cry from him, “need this so bad, don’t you baby?”
Carter nodded helplessly, clenching down and tightening his movements. Abbot started thrusting up into him, moving in harder, more languid motions. He felt a dull ache in him, something a little deeper than his g-spot- he briefly wondered if Abbot would bruise his cervix. The idea wasn’t not a turn-on.
“I- I- yes- n-need it- need you.” He admitted softly, his voice a pure moan by now. Abbot squeezed his thighs tight and locked eyes with him, looking almost.. shocked. Carter leaned down and kissed him once more, and it was bad. The emotion he felt himself putting into it, like he was baring himself to Abbot and begging for a return in the exchange. Begging him to return his feelings. Thankfully, he didn’t leave him hanging.
“I know, baby- I got you, I got you-“ Abbot reassured him, as if he was pleading him to just let go, to give himself up.
He didn’t have to tell Carter twice. He let himself slow a little, feeling Abbot guide him along, back and forth, rocking him into the same spots as before. Carter let out a pathetic whine, clenching rather greedily around him, “O-Oh fuck- gonna cum- gonna cum on your cock-“
“‘S yours, it’s yours baby, take it-“ Abbot moaned, encouraging him with a wide-eyed, nearly obsessive look.
Watching Abbot react to his words, feeling him react, that sent him over the edge. He felt his cock pulse inside him, Abbot’s fingers raised to grip his waist tight as he bucked into him a few times over. The friction gave him a shaky orgasm as he came around his cock, shuddering and squeezing and practically milking the man for all he was worth. He sobbed dryly, feeling his insides pulse weakly in sync with Abbot’s.
He also felt… a warmth. An absolutely lewd warmth. Carter lifted his head from Abbot’s shoulder to see a look of abject terror on his face.
“I… am so sorry.” Abbot slowly said, carefully, while attempting to pull Carter up. Carter just clenched down, making Abbot wince and twitch. He couldn’t help but laugh.
“‘M not mad.” He shook his head, settling himself. Abbot slowly sat up, wrapping his arms around his waist and running his nose over his collarbones. He breathed him in, and Carter felt a slight twitch inside him.
“Mm, that’s a relief.” Abbot’s dry humor reared it’s head, and it was obvious he’d guessed that Carter definitely didn’t mind the outcome. He smiled softly, putting his arms over Abbot’s shoulders and planting his forehead against his neck.
“You should probably head home after this, hm? We’ll survive without you for a couple hours.” Abbot continued to breathe him in, running his nose up to Carter’s neck, smelling his hair. Carter knew he must have smelled like sweat and sex and musk by now… but then again, so did Abbot. And he rather liked that, so who cared?
John nodded, and lifted his head. Abbot brushed the sweaty hair out of his face, trailing his fingers over his scalp and gently playing with his hair. Carter leaned into every touch, eventually finding Abbot’s palm pressed to his cheek.
“Okay.” He didn’t mind going home early, especially now. He had a clear mind. He could just reset at home and come back even better tomorrow. He sighed jokingly, “But only because I know you’ll miss me.”
Abbot nodded playfully, running his thumb over John’s cheek. The air between them was sweet, and their little banter had a very welling emotion to it. Something with a deeper undercurrent. Abbot’s voice was quiet, calm, held the ever steady tension John needed in his life, “No question about it.”
And John didn’t question a thing.