Archive of Our Own

The air from the fridge was cold as it blew out over her bare skin while Mel poked around inside of it hoping she was remembering correctly and there were cold water bottles on the door. Locating two, she grabbed them and, just cause, a small container of ranch and a bag of baby carrots. She placed the food items on a tray, grabbed an opened bag of pretzels, and heading out of the kitchen and back towards her bedroom.

Food was always a good ice breaker.

Shared bodily fluids helped too, she supposed, but considering everything in question Mel considered taking a slightly more traditional route after the fact couldn’t hurt.

Walking into what was technically the master bedroom of her small two-bed two-bath apartment Mel nervously chewed her lip as she set the small tray down on the wicker chest she had placed at the end of the bed. She resisted the urge to clean up the clothes scattered everywhere – this was hardly the first time she had been in this situation.

She was thirty and beautiful. Personal private adult guests were not something she was ashamed of or unused to.  Conversation with people she didn’t know well threw her off; sex didn’t require all that much talking.

It was the sleeping that was throwing her off her stride right now. Usually she kicked whomever she had taken home out by now – she didn’t get ready to feed them. But again, considering the guest, a more traditional route after the fact probably wouldn’t hurt.

There was very little in her life that Melissa King was one-hundred percent certain of; but she did know how to fake confidence when needed to make up for that uncertainty. She was also aware that, most people, looked at her only as deep as surface level and immediately thought she actually was, according to Trinity, “a sparkling ball of naivety, sunshine and kittens”.

Remembering that statement from earlier this evening; she decided then and there, to blame the woman in question if this evening’s activities blew up in her face later. It wasn’t Mel’s fault that Trinity, and a good half of the ED staff, had somehow decided that due to Mel keeping her private life private it apparently meant that she didn’t have one at all.

“Where are we going exactly?” Mel asked, following Trinity, Samira, Victoria and, surprisingly, Yolanda Garcia, on foot away from the hospital quickly. Somehow, despite it being a Saturday in the last week of June, they had actually gotten all their patients signed over by 7:30 pm, were not covered in bodily fluids – allowing them to change without having to shower, and had, therefore, decided to all but run away from the E.D. before someone called them back to do anything.

“O’Malley’s,” Samira replied, referring to one of Mel’s least favorite places to go after shift. She suppressed the urge to protest and decided she would stay for a single drink and just head out with the excuse picking up Becca as they had plans for early tomorrow on Mel’s day off. She’d just hope no one remembered her mentioning Becca having a field trip to Philadelphia with her ‘classmates’ this weekend.

Because ‘O’Malley’s’ was the exact opposite of what you expected from it’s name.  The first time Mel had accompanied Trinity and Samira there she had assumed, logically, that it would be a nice Irish Pub style bar. She could have a beer and maybe get some food after work with her new friends. It would be lovely and she had been excited.

It was a cess pit of university students – particularly those in Greek Life – and was Mel’s personal idea of hell on earth. She had told them that after the first time too. Her exact words were, “I avoided places like this when I was a college student – why would I want to go now?”

The girls’ reasoning was always some variation of, “free drinks from idiots.”

However, when they turned the corner and Mel saw the three floor brownstone that had been converted into a mix of bar and dance club – flashing lights and bad techno music pouring through the windows – she couldn’t help but visibly deflate.

“Awe,” Trinity broke into her musings. “It won’t be that bad. And I’ll protect you from anyone who wants to mess with our little fluffy kitten.”

Mel resisted the urge to roll her eyes and instead just followed the girls in and decided to drink her one free drink from whatever, so-called, idiot the others picked out and then head home for her original plan of watching something starring Cary Grant, eating her weight in carbs and drinking a bottle of wine to decompress after a very long week.

So yes, perhaps, her actions this evening may have been fueled by the smallest bit of spite.

Her mother always did say to always make her actions count – and tonight sure did count towards something.

‘Fake it ‘til you make it’ had been her mother’s other phrase to live by; and she had drilled those two ideas into Mel’s head since she was barely entering Kindergarten. 

She sighed and let her thoughts ramble as she began picking up the clothes scattered around her room and placing hers in the hamper and her guest’s on top of her dresser. A glance up at the quiet snore he let out almost had her laughing; and thankfully broke some of the tension that had begun coiling in her gut.

Sometimes her brain wasn’t a fun place to be.

Her Mom’s journals had laid it all out for her once Mel found them in a box during a college break after her death. It was right there, in black and white, the day their mother was told by the twins’ pediatrician that while Mel wouldn’t need the extent of extra help that Becca would – she was still slightly to the left of what society would deem stereotypically “normal”. That was also the day when her mother became in all but name a single parent as their father mentally checked out of anything, other than handing over money, from that point on. But her mother also proved over the years to be a badass and that not one of those challenges had mattered in the long run – she faked it until she made it, she made her choices count and as a result all three of them had an awesome life in their small rural northern California town.

And those words her mother had written down? ‘Slightly to the left of normal.’  Mel supposed some people would be hurt seeing something like that written by a beloved parent – but Mel understood it.  Her Mother had been one of the few supposed “normal” people that Mel had never, even for one moment, had a problem understanding.  Her Mother also didn’t believe in coddling her daughters. So, she taught them four things growing up - Society would deem them different. Mel and Becca needed to learn to navigate society to whatever extent that they could. Different didn’t ever mean bad. And, most importantly, have fun, be messy and enjoy your life.

Simple as that.

And so, Mel learned and grew and fake it til she made it – she also had a lot of fun along the way. And occasionally, yes, it was messy.

Those lessons of her mother’s had worked for her so far – she was, after all, recently turned thirty, currently a few weeks away from starting her third year of residency in a busy emergency department in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania and, currently, deliciously worn out.

She too, like her mother, was a badass.

“Hi,” a male voice broke into Mel’s musings. She had just left her fellow doctors downstairs at the main bar, Trinity staring after her in slight shock, and headed upstairs to observed he 2^nd level dance floor – the 2^nd floor tended to play more rock and rap as compared to (bad) house mixes. If she was going to take someone home, as she had implied to the other ladies, then she wanted to at least know they had tolerable taste in music.

Mel turned, and startled, “Hi?!”

“This really doesn’t seem like your scene,” the dark-haired, blue-eyed man in front of her continued and Mel had to blink a few times; perhaps the bad lightning was playing tricks on her and it wasn’t who she thought.

“I didn’t think it would be yours,” is what she chose to respond with, obvious confusion coloring her tone.

“I’m trying something different,” he shot back, shrugging.

She could also, like her mother, be a little bit messy.

Part of that stemmed from her mother’s mantras. And part of it was simply due to having to be a grown adult since she was sixteen. That’s when they lost their mother.  Their father followed by the time they were eighteen. Had been wasting away for years; and legal adulthood seemed to be enough for him to just give up the ghost.

His death delayed college by two years while Mel sorted out his, not huge but reasonably comfortable, estate and determined how she was going to go to college, then medical school and take care of Becca as well.  She would not give the man credit for much; but financially he had set them up well for the long-term. It just took a while to get everything transferred and get access so she could actually use the money in question.

So yes, shiny and naive and full of kittens – or whatever iteration of those words had been used to describe her by her colleagues – did not exactly fit her in the least.

So, when they were at the bar tonight after shift and Mel, not joking in the slightest, told them to wish her happy hunting as she hadn’t been laid in three months, she had been more than a little insulted when most of them (including Victoria no less) had laughed like she was telling a joke. Samira had even tried to convince her not to pressure herself into doing what she thought was expected of a “bar night out”.

Mel frowned at the table, not for the first time wishing that Cassie would come out to nights like these. Even if she absolutely understood why the other woman preferred to join them at restaurants or events over bars. Her reasoning, however, was that Cassie seemed to be the only person who realized that Mel was a grown adult woman not a small child in an adult’s body.

“You know, if you all think I’m so infantile – then why exactly do you invite me out to bars with you?”

Garcia had laughed, the first time she laughed since this conversation had started it should be noted, and raised her glass in a toast before asking, “Chicks or Dicks or Both?”

Mel, smirking slightly answered in a very serious tone, and might have exaggerated the robotic nature that the uniformed immediately associated with being anywhere on the spectrum, “Penis is the correct anatomical term that I shall be seeking the company of this evening. But on occasion it be either or both. I’m not particularly picky when it comes to an orgasm.”

She had then walked away from the somewhat shocked table, leaving her watered down gin and tonic behind, and headed upstairs to see if there were any men here over the age of twenty-five.

Which certainly, in a very direct way, explained how she wound up in her current deliciously worn-out situation.

Ironically, the ‘situation’ was not specifically the naked, sleeping, man in her bed.  She had never had a hard time acquiring one of those when she wanted one and was quite enjoying the view.

And she was perfectly fine with letting him sleep after the enthusiastic work he had put in wringing four (more) orgasms out of her in the last two hours once they got to her apartment. He had earned a nap and, again if this didn’t blow up in her face, she’d like him rejuvenated for a repeat performance.

So, neither did the non-partner sleeping in her bed qualify as the situation.

Honestly, her own vocally unquestionable encouragement and ecstatic mutual participation in the evening’s activities left her more than a little jealous of his current state of consciousness.

Or lack of consciousness rather.

Being asleep would mean not having to consider the potential ramifications of impulsive, spiteful, decision-making.

No, the situation was more along the lines of the man in question being one Frank Langdon; whom, she hadn’t seen, or heard any real news about, in the nine months since her first shift at PTMC.

All Mel, or anyone else, officially knew was that after Pittfest Doctor Langdon went on medical leave. But, considering Princess had, for some reason Mel would never agree with or understand the motive of, decided that everyone in the department needed to know what she overheard earlier during that hellish day of a shift between Langdon and Robby, unofficially most of the hospital knew Langdon had been caught diverting drugs and was in rehab.

Three days later, officially Princess was on vacation. Unofficially Dana had suspended her for two weeks. And Mel had overheard the conversation between the two nurses prior to the younger one leaving, it had ended with the explanation that, if Princess kept running her mouth with malicious gossip that her suspension would be official and on record. Needless to say gossip of any type had been cut down since.

What made all of tonight arguably worse?

Mel was almost positive that Langdon didn’t have a clue who she was. To be fair, she hadn’t been inclined at any time to explain to him that they knew each other either; in fear he would change his mind about the extra orgasms he had promised her, with his hand up her skirt and fingers pumping torturously slowly inside of her pussy, while they were devouring each other’s mouths in the dark back hallway of the bar shortly after meeting at the edge of the dance floor.

“Fuck, you’re so pretty,” Mel shivered as he breathed the words into her ear and let his mouth work down her neck, thumb brushing her clit in a light teasing pressure under the skirt she was very glad she had brought to work. “Wanna taste you everywhere.”

Mel groaned, and tightened her hand in his hair, nodding quickly and agreed, “Yea, let’s do that.”

She noted, somewhere in her subconscious, in a way that brought a bit of relief to her actions, that while he was sweaty as if he had been in the crowd on the dance floor earlier - he didn’t smell at all like booze and his eyes had been clear with normal pupils.

Clear head consent was sexy to Mel. Also, knowing that the other doctor was, apparently, staying on the wagon despite the surroundings was encouraging as well.

She wasn’t even mad about him, possibly, not remembering her – she met him the day his entire life blew up in his face. And there had been a lot of other things going on that day as well.

It just had the potential to be very, very awkward since the one thing she had heard recently was that he would be returning to work the 4th of July weekend. 

In six days.

Examining him now, in the dim light coming into the room from her ensuite, she took note of a few important things. Dark circles under his eyes that told her he might not have just fallen asleep due to their fairly athletic sex marathon.  An empty left ring finger, not even a tan line was present; which she was somewhat glad for but, could admit, hadn’t exactly been a deal breaker for her. He also seemed to have lost weight since she last saw him; his jaw was, if possibly, even sharper and she wouldn’t be surprised if his Adonis’ belt had bruised her.

Exhausted, divorced (or separated) and exercising probably far too much to be anything other than a substituted addiction?

Definitely a situation. The best possible kind, of course. But a still a situation. The kind that involved inadvertently sleeping with one’s colleague; only, not so inadvertently on her behalf? And her colleague also, in this case, happened to be a more senior resident. Even if it was one on probation.

“Gonna just stand there and stare at me Mel? Or are you finally going to sit on my cock like you were asking for earlier?” a smooth, if sleepy, voice broke through her musings and, proceeded to surprise her even further.

Apparently, he did remember her and her spiraling was for nothing. Yea, her brain was no fun sometimes.

And based on the slow stroke his hand was doing; he was more than ready for the repeat performance she had been hoping for.

“It’s not my fault you fell asleep first,” Mel shot back and scrambled up onto the bed, and into his lap, with a slight laugh.

Before he could do anything, Mel leaned down and kissed him deeply, grinning against his mouth when she heard him moan quietly in the back of his throat. She always enjoyed surprising her bed partners. She blindly groped for her nightstand, all while kissing Frank, and almost crowed in triumph when her fingers finally closed around the foil condom wrapper.

She chuckled as he nearly whimpered, reaching for her, as she pulled back and sat up straighter where she was carefully perched on his thighs and no further up his body at the moment. She had the wrapper opened and condom rolled down his cock before much more then seconds had passed; Frank just looked suitably impressed much to her internal amusement.

She almost laughed when he raised an eyebrow and gestured at his dick as if to say, “Well?”

She smacked his hip, hard enough to draw an actual yelp from his mouth and mentally filed that reaction away, then rose onto her knees and shifted forward so she was hovering over him. Without prompting she felt Frank’s fingers brush her inner thigh and steadied herself on the bed, rather than putting weight on his torso, (she had seen what looked like, healing but, very recent surgery incisions on his lower back earlier and she made a mental note, again, to check them after they finished) while he held his cock steady between her legs.

She locked eyes on his impossibly blue ones and very slowly lowered herself to sheath him inside of her body. The slow pace, combined with the thick stretch, sent her eyes rolling back into her head as a groan escaped her lips just as Frank hissed out a quiet, “fuck” as she settled in the cradle of his hips.

Neither one of them moved for a moment; somehow this was better than all the other times this evening. Overstimulation or overtiredness perhaps; but whatever it was – it was mind-blowing already.

With a gasp Mel finally fell forward and kissed his chest softly, reverently even. She could feel his length inside of her twitch and in the back of her mind she had to force herself to move purposefully rather than just rock in his lap and enjoy the sensation of being filled so completely.

Slowly she rolled her hips forward, gasping at the feelings it sent through her body. Her hands were clutching the sheets next to his torso and her forehead was pressed into Frank's chest tightly. She felt his hands run down the length of her back, before settling on her hips and ass to help her move just the slightest bit faster; a quick glance up, through her eyelashes, showed his head thrown back and his bottom lip caught tightly between his teeth suppressing any sound.

"Yea," he finally breathed out, after a few more minutes of them constantly rocking together had passed and clutched her hips tighter forcing her to move at an even faster pace. "God. Fuck baby. So good," he groaned, and Mel cried out in pleasure as he hit the perfect spot inside of her with a strong thrust from underneath.

"Fuck Frank. More," she nearly sobbed as he thrust up into her faster, with her slamming down and meeting him stroke for stroke. "Fuckfuckfuck," she began repeating, almost soundlessly mouthing the words desperately chasing an orgasm.

"Yes, so good Melissa. So. Fucking. Good," he pulled her higher up his body and kissed her holding her in place as he thrust up into her. Mel heard the repeated cries leaving her throat and could feel the tension in her stomach building with each thrust.

"Harder Frank, please," she begged and felt him flip their bodies quickly at her words. He grabbed her left leg and threw it over his shoulder, heightening her cries as he began pounding her. His hand slipped between them, and he applied just the right amount of pressure at her clit as his own breathing deepened.

"So close," he moaned in a whisper. "So tight. Jesus you’re perfect," he gasped out and thrust harder.

Mel’s eyes clenched shut at the words and she pulled him deeper into her with her right leg tight around his thighs and gasped out a wail of almost sobbing surprise as her orgasm tore over her, “Fuck. I’m cumming.”

Mel let her body fully relax in pure bliss and felt Frank start thrusting harder though much less coordinated, she gently ran her fingers through his hair and whispered encouragement in his ear, moaning herself, when felt him push in deep, his cock twitching inside of her, and freeze his body in between her legs just rocking his hips hard into hers and panting in her ear.

She felt as his harsh breathing slowed and became soft kisses at the junction of her shoulder and neck and let him hold her body to his for a few minutes before he finally pulled out of her and got out of the bed in an almost abrupt move after the last ten minutes.

Mel’s head was still reeling as she watched Frank grab tissues from her desk and clean himself up by her garbage can, tossing the used condom as he went. He was starting to look a little, quite plainly, manic and it was making her worried for him.

No one should have that good of an orgasm and then lose it to anxiety; so she decided to cut off any type of spiral that was building and just simply stated, “Get back into bed.”

He blinked at her in surprise and Mel smiled, “No need to talk about anything tonight. But it’s almost two in the morning. And I would like to sleep. So, get back into bed.”

“Doctor King, you surprise me,” Frank finally said, as he did what she asked and settled down next her, quite close to her side, in her queen bed.

“Is that a bad thing?”

“Not in the slightest,” he replied and then surprised her and asked, “Do you cuddle?”

“I prefer not to,” she admitted and relaxed when Frank then shifted a few inches further to the left and dropped his head to his pillow, already well on his way to falling back asleep. “Goodnight Frank.”

“Goodnight Mel,” he mumbled and within seconds he was out cold again.

“Definitely Trinity’s fault. She practically dared me,” Mel whispered to herself, eyes on the man laying down next to her, and forced her eyes shut to attempt and get some type of sleep before the morning and reality set in.

At least she didn’t have work for two days; she could decide before then if she was going to act like she had just left the bar after what she said to the others or she could tell them the truth – she really liked having sex. It was one of the few circumstances when touching people didn’t bother her.

She was almost looking forward to the looks of shock that the second explanation would bring forth from her friends.

Badass and a little bit messy for sure.