Chapter Text
“Touch Starved”
Dr. Lawrence Gordon was only having the worst day ever. As far as he was concerned, his whole marriage might as well be in the gutter, and to make things worse, work today had been utterly atrocious.
Turns out performing life saving surgeries day in and day out does take a toll on your mental and physical state… believe it or not.
And then just the icing on the cake, as if the universe was laughing at him, there was a terrible storm brewing outside.
Just perfect…
Lawrence sighed as he parked up outside the grocery store, watching the rain bounce off the windows with a blank expression. Since he didn’t really care what his wife thought anymore, and it was the only thing he could think of to lift his spirits, he opted to stop for some snacks - specifically Doritos.
Yeah, that would save his mental state…
Some part of him knew he should steer clear of junk food, being a doctor and all, to set some kind of example, but at this point in time, he just didn’t care enough about his goddamn image.
Using his suit jacket as cover, he sprinted into the shop, his white undershirt going slightly translucent in the bright supermarket lights.
He immediately swerved into the confectionery aisle and blinked at the eye sore ahead of him - bewildered at the bare shelves.
“Oh yeah. Sorry chum, not much stock left because of the storm y’know.” A worker walking past him explained, and Lawrence forced a polite nod before cursing under his breath.
But then he saw it; one single pack of Doritos, sat squished against the back wall - deformed and unappealing, the only thing in existence in the entirety of the confectionery aisle.
Maybe it was fate.
Salvation.
For him.
But just as he extended his arm to grab his saving grace, it vanished like hot breath on a cold winters window.
Lawrence spun around sharply, water slicked hair falling into his eyes. A dark haired man now held the chips tucked against his chest, blue eyes studying him with guarded curiosity. Rain dripped steadily off his black leather jacket. Headphones hung crookedly around his neck, his hair a wet and wild mess.
“That was mine,” Lawrence said, his voice flat, brittle. He wasn’t in the mood to let go of the one good thing today had offered him. Especially not to some juvenile in a leather jacket.
“I got it first, man. Too bad.” The dark haired man shrugged, a slight devilish smile playing on his lips at seeing his reaction.
“Look. You don’t know the day I’ve had. It sounds incredibly stupid but those chips were going to be the highlight of the fucking week for me. Please, hand them over.” Lawrence pleaded, knowing how pathetic and childish he must’ve sounded but just desperate for any will to go on at this point.
Even if it was a crumpled chip packet.
“Jeez, do you think I had a better day? I was out on a job and my camera got mugged, okay? It’s not some competition”
The man began to walk away.
“Wait! I’ll give you double, no… triple what they cost. I’ll give you $8.” Lawrence pleaded.
The brunette man froze in his tracks for a moment, seemingly weighing up what kind of strange disorder this man had to need this so badly - but he’d always been a sucker for free money.
Fuck, who was he to say no?
He extended the chips towards him.
Lawrence handed over $8 with a look of shame as the stranger accepted it with a lazy smirk, pretending to count it with exaggerated care.
“Thanks…uh?”
“Lawrence.” Lawrence groaned.
“Mhm okay. I’m Adam.” The dark haired man smirked.
Lawrence had had just about enough of that infuriating grin.
He gave a curt nod and went to pay, irritation prickling at him that the guy hadn’t just handed over the chips in the first place, a classic trait of someone who’d grown up with everything handed to them, and had somehow never outgrown it.
Adam stood for a moment, blinking in mild disbelief at the man, before shaking his head and muttering “asshole” under his breath.
With a small satisfied smirk, he wandered off to see what else he could buy with this unexpected cash.
-
Lawrence collapsed into the driver’s seat, the bag of Doritos clutched like a small, ridiculous triumph. He let out a shaky exhale and rubbed his forehead. The storm hammered the roof of his car in a relentless rhythm, furthering his headache.
A single pack of Doritos for eight fucking dollars. He was a grown man, a surgeon for god’s sake, and this was what he’d been reduced to.
Another knock on the window made him jump out of his skin.
He turned, scowl forming - only to see Adam again, dripping wet, arms folded, expression somewhere between annoyed snd sheepish.
Lawrence rolled the window down a crack.
“What now?”
“You gave me seven. Not eight.”
Lawrence glares. “I gave you eight.”
Adam smirks. “Yeah? Then count it again.”
Lawrence’s patience was already gone. He knew he gave him 8.
He sighed.
“I handed you eight”
Adam shrugged, unimpressed. “Then you can explain to me where the eighth one magically disappeared to.”
Lawrence narrowed his eyes. “You probably dropped it.”
“Ha! You think I’d drop money?” Adam scoffed.
“I’m not that careless.”
“You got mugged today,” Lawrence reminded him. Adam’s eyes flashed. “Wow. Thanks for bringing that up again asshole.”
Lawrence dragged a hand down his face. “I don’t have another dollar.”
“Then get out and check your pockets or something,” Adam said, gesturing vaguely at Lawrence like he was instructing a dog to do a trick.
“You’re unbelievable,” Lawrence muttered.
Adam tilted his head. “And you’re cheap.”
Lawrence bit back a retort and reached into his coat pocket, searching just to get the infuriating man to go away. His fingers brushed a lone crumpled single, and he cursed under his breath, pulling it free. He held it out through the small gap in the window, refusing to make eye contact.
Adam plucked it from his hand with a maddening little grin, the kind that set Lawrence’s teeth on edge.
“See? That wasn’t so hard,” Adam said, folding the bills neatly as if he were doing Lawrence a favour.
Lawrence glared.
“Get out of my face.”
“Yeah, yeah.” Adam waved him off and stepped back, heading toward a scratched up motorcycle that definitely did not look storm proof.
And without thinking, Lawrence called out,
“That’s a terrible idea.”
Adam paused, half-turned.
“What is?”
“Riding that thing in this weather.”
The young man scoffed. “You my dad now?”
“No,” Lawrence said sharply. “But I am a doctor. And I’d like to go one day without treating someone who decided to skewer themselves on wet pavement.”
Adam blinked, momentarily thrown off, before that familiar maddening smirk slid right back into place. “Ohh, a doctor, huh? That explains a lot.”
Lawrence frowned. “Explains what?”
Adam gestured vaguely at him. “The bossy tone. The dramatic warnings. The whole ‘I know better’ energy. Classic doctor vibes”, he nodded.
“I’m giving you common sense,” Lawrence snapped.
“Not… vibes.”
“Sure,” Adam said, grin widening.
“Whatever helps you sleep at night, Doctor Lawrence.”
Lawrence stirred in the driver seat at those words.
“I just don’t feel like peeling you off the pavement later,” he muttered.
“Relax,” Adam said, swinging one leg over the bike with exaggerated confidence. “If I crash, I’ll be sure to ask for you in the ER. Maybe you can give me another lecture.”
Lawrence groaned. “Please don’t.”
“No promises,” Adam shot back, eyes glittering with amusement.
Lawrence watched him pull out of the parking lot, disappearing into the haze of rain and headlights. He wasn’t sure why the interaction left him feeling more rattled than irritated.
He sighed, sinking back into the seat.
The doctor had just paid some cocky stranger with a lopsided smile $9 for some chips.
What had his life come to?
He started up the car and grit his teeth at the thought of going home to his broken marriage, to the thought of that guy driving home in the flood with no helmet, no nothing to save him if he came flying off. At least he had the Doritos…
And maybe he was losing it.