Fic: More Like Netter's Anatomy| Hospital AU| R
Title: More Like Netter's Anatomy
Author: ficsoreal
Pairings: Cash/Singer, Ian/Marshall, Brendon/Spencer, Jon/Ryan, Patrick/Pete + Ashlee, Gerard/his hand
Rating: R
Words: 9559
Summary: Hospital AU
A/N: Hugs and kisses to miserylovedme for the beta. All remaining mistakes are my own. I actually want Pete to name his daughter, Magnolia Blossom, and if he has a little boy, Spaghetti Noodle.
Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction.
Cash looks up, pen dangling from his mouth, when a exasperated Dr. Smith comes marching into the sign out area with a green looking Singer in tow. Dr. Smith is still wearing his protective blue plastic elf boots, awesome hair up in the hair net. He pushes Singer gently toward Cash and Marshall and says wearily, "Please, get Alex some water and a chair," before stomping back off down the hall.
Marshall and Cash just look at Singer for a moment, before Cash's eyes light up evilly and he crows, "You totally fainted, didn't you?"
Singer's cheeks flush a bright red, chasing away the sickly green and Marshall pushes a chair over to him. Singer flops down in the offered seat. Marshall asks, "What happened, dude?"
Singer looks a little queasy again. "It was awful; it was like this head forcing its way out of this girl's vagina and she was screaming hysterically," he waves his hands around, "and then there was blood every where. It was kinda like a horror movie."
The room is silent for a split second before Cash bursts out laughing. "Dude! We're on Labor and Delivery! What did you expect?"
"Less blood and more pain medicine." Singer shudders and Marshall gives up playing at sympathetic and laughs and laughs in Singer's pasty little face.
"Dr. Smith is going to write you a scathing evaluation." Cash uses the pen he had been chewing on to pretend to write in the air. "Alex does not have the balls to bring new life into the world."
Marshall pipes up, "Singer faints at the sight of vaginas." They both burst into laughter again.
"Shut the fuck up," Singer mutters. "Why couldn't I be in Ian and Johnson's group?"
Marshall answers, "Because Cash owns you."
Cash starts laughing again and Singer makes a bitter face at him. It wouldn't be as funny if it wasn't true. Fuck Cash Colligan.
**
Dr. Urie rocks back in his chair. "It's not that Dr. Stump is a hard ass; he just wants to make sure you learn something on this rotation. He's really good at his job and he cares about his patients.'
Ian glances sideways at Johnson and almost cracks the fuck up at the careful lack of expression on his face. Johnson is so not into Pediatrics and is just trying to make it through the rotations. The last thing he wants to hear is that the attending expects the world of his medical students. Johnson turns to look at him and his long ponytail swishes against the back of his white coat. It makes Ian touch the back of his own head self consciously. Apparently, big hair is frowned upon in the hospital. He sighs. The ponytail holders make his head hurt after two hours. It's just not right; his hair was made to be free. He thinks fondly of Dr. Trohman. Dr. Troh got to wear his hair like he wanted to, one of the perks of being a Ph. D. instead of an M.D.
"How did you two get into the same group?" Dr. Urie is looking at the two of them curiously. Ian finds it hard to focus on his face, even though Dr. Urie is hot, because he has a stuffed monkey hanging off the stethoscope hanging around his neck. Dr. Urie goes on, "Was it because you both had great hair?"
Johnson says, "That was exactly what happened."
Dr. Urie beams at him and asks, "Your friends are on L&D, right? Are they working with Dr. Smith?"
**
"Why does it seem like you have so much time off when I know that you've been working all night in the ER?" Patrick reaches for another chart, one of his chronic patients. He knows little Dean's entire family and that saddens him more than anything else. That Dean has been in and out of the hospital so many times that Patrick gained that knowledge.
Pete grins at him, eyes rimmed with dark circles, still in his blue hospital issue scrubs. He says, "I just wanted to drop by and see how the best kid doctor in the world was doing this morning." He rubs the back of his neck ruefully. "Plus, I promised the wife that I would meet her for lunch."
"How is Ashlee?"
"Great, loving her job." Pete throws the squeaky ball on Patrick's desk into the air and Patrick glares at him. Pete just keeps smiling at him. "Libby asked about you the other day."
Patrick glances up. "Really?" Libby is Pete's little girl and Patrick's practically the only person that calls her Libby or the only person she'll acknowledge using that particular nickname. Patrick makes a face just thinking about her real name but Pete always says that an unique name will make her a better person. Patrick thinks it will make her an angrier person when she grows up; he's waiting to tell Pete, "I told you so."
"She wants to know when Uncle Patrick is coming over to see her." Pete raises his eyebrows questioningly.
Patrick smiles, then frowns slightly. "It's almost time for her well child check up, isn't it?"
Pete sighs.
**
The best thing about the women's hospital and the children's hospital is that they are right next to each other, making it possible for the OBGYN students and the Peds students to eat lunch together. Ian waves a hand at Marshall and Marshall taps Cash and Singer on the shoulder to point him out before heading over to the table.
Ian asks, "Dr. Smith let you deliver any babies today?"
Marshall puts his tray down carefully and shakes his head. "The only baby we delivered today was Singer."
"Hey!" Singer says from behind him and Cash snickers.
"Please, sit down and stop looming." Johnson takes a bite out of his patty melt. Cash shrugs out of his dingy white coat and reaches over to grab the pickle off of Ian's plate. Ian watches Singer watch Cash suck the sour juice off the pickle slice before biting down into it. Marshall elbows him and Ian rolls his eyes at him. Johnson kicks him under the table and says, "Like you can talk." Ian blushes and turns back to his own food.
Cash says, "I'm not sure how I feel about L&D, but Dr. Smith is the shit. He knows his stuff. I've been in like five c-sections and he would definitely be the one I would take my future wife to." Singer starts choking across the table and Cash claps him on the back. "You okay, man?"
Singer gulps down some water, eyes leaking and chokes out, "Fine, fine." Marshall is giving him a sympathetic look from across the table. Ian wishes he could get some sympathetic looks from somebody. Johnson just gives him pitying looks, Cash is an ass that thinks his crush is hilarious and Singer is too caught up in his own drama to get involved with Ian's. And Marshall, Marshall is an oblivious little fuck. A very pretty, oblivious little fuck.
Cash stops describing his perfect, imaginary wife and says, voice full of amusement, "And speaking of Dr. Smith, Singer fainted today in the delivery room."
All eyes focus on Singer and Singer insists defensively, "I did not faint. I just got a little light headed and tripped over a nurse on the way out the room."
"I would just say I fainted, dude," Ian advised and Cash starts laughing again, but he gives Singer one of his chocolate chip cookies.
Marshall tugs the spill of curls falling down Ian's back and says, "I like this."
Ian ducks his head and mutters, "It makes my head hurt."
"I think you all should just get that shit cut short." He rubs a hand over his own shorn hair. He looks across at Singer. "Except Singer. Ladies should have long hair."
"Fuck you," Singer hisses quietly because they're surrounded on all sides by staff.
Cash leans back in his chair and smiles. "Anytime, baby, anytime."
Johnson breaks in before Singer throws an absolute shit fit. "Dr. Smith? Isn't that the guy, Dr. Urie was asking us about?"
Ian says, "Yeah, yeah, it was. Dr. Urie has a huge boner for him."
"That's because he's awesome." Cash slings his arm around the back of Singer's chair. "Much too awesome for a pediatrician."
"I don't know...Dr. Urie is pretty hot."
"They were in the same medical school class and now they're both second year residents. That's a long time; if they were ever going to get together, surely they would have already, right?" The table gets strangely silent and Cash repeats, "Right, guys?"
Johnson says, "Things change, people change all the time."
Singer shoots him a grateful look.
**
"I always like when we get new M3s." Brendon waves his sucker at Spencer. "New doctors in the making, trying to find their direction in life."
Spencer frowns at his sucker. "What kind of pediatrician are you? Every time I see you, you're eating candy."
Brendon sticks his tongue out at him. He brushes his teeth all the time; he's an excellent role model for young people. He smiles at Spencer so that he can get the full effect of his ultra white teeth. "I'll have you know that I have never had a single cavity, Dr. Smith. Can you say the same thing?" Spencer flips him off. "I thought not," Brendon returns smugly.
"What are you two arguing about now?" Ryan pulls out the chair next to Spencer. "Wait, don't tell me. I'm on Spencer's side."
Brendon makes a face at him. "Just so you know, Spencer's side is the losing side."
Ryan shrugs and asks, "How are the new kids?"
"One of them fainted this morning."
Ryan says, "Oh, another Brendon again, then."
"Hey! I did not faint at anytime during my L&D rotation." Brendon is so offended. He just happens to like children better after they have been liberated from their mother's vagina.
Spencer grins at him brightly. "Brendon, your preceptor said that you were afraid of vaginas...in your permanent record."
Brendon glowers at him. He's never going to live that one evaluation down. He changes the subject. "So, Pete was hanging out in the Ped's department again this morning. Passing the time with Patrick until lunch time."
"That guy has the most understanding wife ever. He's married with a kid and if you didn't know any better you would swear that he's dating Dr. Stump." Ryan takes a slurp of his coffee. "I have got to find a wife that trusts me that much."
"I don't know if it's trust or the fact that she's always traveling around to recruit students." Spencer stabs his salad viciously and Brendon winces.
"I don't think that Patrick is having an affair with Pete. He's Pear's godfather. He's just a close family friend." Brendon bites down into his sucker; it crunches satisfyingly.
"Who's a close family friend?" A familiar voice asks.
Brendon grins up at the brown eyed man standing over them. "Jon! Back from the creepy land of internal medicine. The kids missed you."
Jon is smart, handsome and charming, the kind of guy Brendon would have to hate if he wasn't also one of the nicest people, Brendon knew. Jon's a MedPeds resident and he's been on the medicine part of his rotation for the past three months. Jon smiles back at him. "Yeah, dude. I'm back with the kids." Brendon high fives him as he sits down. Jon says, "Spencer, Ryan."
Spencer raises his soda to Jon, but Ryan just returns, "Jon," kind of flatly. Jon's smile falters. Brendon isn't sure what went down between Ryan and Jon and Spencer isn't sharing, but he's sure it wasn't nice. Things have been awkward between them for about a month.
Spencer breaks the odd tension by asking, "Did you have a surgery run over, Ryan?" Ryan's usually the first one at the lunch table.
Ryan says, "Jacob had a family emergency, so I had to cover his scheduled c-section. It wasn't too much of an inconvenience."
Jon smiles again, but this time it has an edge to it. "Yeah, how hard can it be to turn on the gas and sit around reading a book, while real doctors operate."
"Guys, don't." Spencer places a hand on Ryan's arm and glares across the table at Jon. Jon holds his hands up in surrender and Ryan relaxes under Spencer's hand. Brendon looks back and forth between the two, eyes wide.
**
"What I'm I supposed to tell them, Mikey?" Gerard taps his pen on the open note pad in front of him. "They've just failed the most important test in their young lives and I'm supposed to give them some words of wisdom." He puts the pen down carefully in front of him and uses both hands to clutch at the office phone. "I can't do this."
Mikey makes a disgruntled sound over the phone connection and says, "Gee, you know I'm at work, right? At this very moment, I could be discovering a brand new antibiotic, but instead I'm on the phone with my freaking out brother."
"What are you trying to say?"
Mikey blows air noisily into the receiver. "You can do this, Gee. You were made Dean of Student Affairs because the school had full faith in your abilities to handle students in all their ups and downs. Just be yourself and tell them it's not the end of the world even though it may feel like it."
Gerard says, "Thank you, Mikey." He pauses then he asks, "Have you seen Dr. Iero today?"
Mikey says, "For the last time, we're not even on the same floor," and hangs up the phone.
Gerard stares at the phone for a moment, then pages his secretary to tell her to send in the first red eyed student. He takes a deep breath; he can do this.
**
"Sooooo," Marshall looks at Cash, who makes a go ahead motion at him, "that anesthesiologist is your friend?"
Dr. Smith looks away from the board to stare at Marshall blankly. Marshall shrinks in on himself a little bit. Singer smiles behind his head. Dr. Smith asks, "Ryan? Dr. Ross?" Marshall nods, voice used up for the moment. Dr. Smith quirks a smile. "Yeah, we've been friends since we were little." He turns his back to the board and says, "It doesn't look like any one's going to have a baby in the next couple of hours. If you boys want to take a break, go get your books and study, this would be the time to do it. Remember, you have lecture at nine." He waits until they all nod at him before turning on his heel and heading to the resident's lounge.
Singer waits until he thinks that Spencer is out of earshot to say, "My M1 buddy told me that Dr. Ross waited a whole year to apply to medical school just so they would be in the same class."
Marshall says, "Maybe the reason Dr. Urie doesn't stand a chance with Dr. Smith is because he's already fucking Dr. Ross."
"I doubt it," Cash opines. "You heard the man; they've been friends since they were little. What kind of guy fucks his best friend? That's not what best friends are for."
Singer stands up abruptly and grabs his back pack. "I'm just going to run to the student lounge for a second, get something out of my locker."
Cash watches him go before turning to ask Marshall, "What's wrong with Singer? He's been acting weird lately."
Marshall just shakes his head at him.
**
"When Dr. Stump asks you a question, just take a deep breath and answer it. He's not unreasonable and he's not trying to scar you for life like the surgeons." Dr. Urie smiles at them. "Ready?"
Johnson says dryly, "As we'll ever be."
Ian isn't sure what he thought the infamous Dr. Stump would look like, but this isn't it. Dr. Stump is tiny, tiny and wearing one of those little hats that the people in the surgery department wear all the time. He has strawberry blond sideburns, light colored eyes and a mouth made for giving blow jobs. Ian shakes his head because that's not the sort of thoughts a student should be having about his attending.
Dr. Stump smiles and says, "Dr. Urie and my new team for the next couple of weeks. Tell me your names."
"Ian Crawford."
"Alex Johnson."
Dr. Stump nods. "Nice to meet you both. Brendon, what do we have on the floor today?"
Dr. Urie says, "We have to Kawasaki kids, a ten month old with febrile seizures and a failure to thrive."
"Well, let's get started."
At the end of morning rounds, Ian knows two things: Dr. Stump knows his shit and he wants them to know theirs. He talks to Brendon in the corner and signs a few charts before disappearing back off to wherever he came from. Dr. Urie turns back to them with a smile and says, "Great doctor, huh?"
Ian nods dumbly and he can see Johnson do the same out the corner of his eye. Dr. Urie checks his wristwatch and says, "You guys go ahead to lunch and page me at about 1:30."
Johnson says, "Will do," and drags Ian away to go get his books and his lunch money.
"Have you ever seen Dr. Wentz?" Johnson shoots Ian a puzzled look at the sudden question. Ian flaps a hand at him. "You know, the ER doctor that supposedly has a thing for Dr. Stump."
"I thought he was married to the lady Dr. Wentz in administration?"
"He is," Ian agrees.
"Don't they have a little girl named Pear?"
Ian sighs. "Never mind."
"Isn't Dr. Stump her pediatrician?"
**
One of the third year residents lets out a wolf whistle that catches Singer's attention. A short, dark haired man with what seems like an extremely long lab coat on; on closer inspection, the guy is just on the short side. The third year yells out, "We are being invaded! They have sent forth a spy. Dr. Smith, you have a visitor."
They all watch as Dr. Smith comes out of the residents lounge, covering a yawn with his hand. Singer idly notices that Dr. Smith's hands are huge. Dr. Smith says, "Brendon, what are you doing down here?"
Brendon. Ooooh, Dr. Urie. Singer catches the raised eyebrows that Cash gives him and shares it with Marshall. This is the guy that wants Dr. Smith, according to Ian. They watch as Dr. Urie scuffs the floor in front of him with his multi-colored tennis shoes. Brendon says, "I was just wondering if you had time to get a cup of coffee or something."
Dr. Smith glances at the almost empty L&D board and looks at his upper level resident who shrugs. "I'll look after the children."
"Okay, yeah." Dr. Smith grabs his coat and follows Dr. Urie down the hall.
The upper level resident grins at them and waggles his eyebrows a bit before saying, "What do you guys know about gestational diabetes?"
Singer pulls out his notebook and settles in for the upcoming lecture.
**
After the fourth kid comes crying to him in his office about what a horrible person Dr. Ballato is, Gerard decides he needs to have a meeting with her, keep her from crushing young souls. He informs his secretary of this and her eyes get incredibly wide and frightened. Gerard thinks huh and goes on a fact finding mission.
All the other doctors in the surgery department describe her as a hard worker, a great orthopedic surgeon. All the students swear that she eats kittens for breakfast and beg him not to mention their names in her presence.
Gerard finds her faculty picture on the department website and finds her smoking hot. He's still not prepared for the reality of Dr. Lindsey Ballato. She's wearing the same hospital issue blue scrubs that all the surgeons wear, but she's rocking black combat boots and her hair is pulled back into a messy top knot. She takes the seat in front of his desk like she owns it and looks at her wristwatch like she has somewhere better to be.
Gerard clears his throat and says, "I'd like to talk to you about your student evaluations." She rolls her eyes as Gerard draws out a stack of papers. "You've gotten some interesting reviews, but I think they can all be summed up with 'she destroys souls'." He gives her an earnest look. "I think we should all be careful when we are dealing with student doctors trying to develop their professional identity."
Dr. Ballato stares at him, one eyebrow arched, before she leans forward. "Dr. Way," and the tone with which she says it lets him know exactly what she thinks about his doctorate degree, "I think we can both agree that we would want any future surgeon that comes out of this hospital to know basic anatomy. All I ask is that the students know their fucking arterial circulation before scrubbing into one of my surgeries. Are you seriously trying to tell me that's too much to ask from the people that might be putting a scalpel to your chest at some point in the future?"
Gerard swallows. "Umm, no?"
"I didn't think so. So, now if this meeting is over, I have to go crack a man's chest open."
Gerard watches her stomp out of his office and wonders how wrong it would be to go jerk off in his office bathroom.
**
Singer picks at the piece of fuzz on the carpet by his forehead and tries to figure out how he arrived at this place. He's in medical school, living with his best friend in the world and he's absolutely miserable. He flops his arms a couple of times and thinks about all the reading he needs to be doing. He needs to know everything about intrauterine growth restriction in the morning and he knows about ten percent of what he needs to know.
He doesn't look up when he hears footsteps in the kitchen; it's only one other person in the apartment. A foot nudges his leg and Singer makes a questioning sound but makes no move to get up. Cash says, "You gonna study tonight?" Singer just rolls the piece of fuzz between his fingers. Singer jerks, startled, when Cash drops down beside him and drapes over his back.
Cash wraps a curly lock around his finger and tugs lightly. Singer turns his head to look at him. Cash drops his hair to trace a finger down the bridge of his nose, Singer's eyes cross trying to follow the finger along its path. Cash smiles at him and asks, "What's wrong?"
Singer shakes his head, dislodging Cash's hand. "Nothing. You want to tell me about what causes tiny babies?"
"Big tobacco companies, obviously."
Singer groans and sits up to find his review book.
**
"Patrick..." Pete settles his hand low on Patrick's back and nuzzles the slightly damp hair at the back of his neck. He presses his lips to the salty skin and he can't resist letting his tongue dart out to taste.
Patrick shudders in front of him and pulls out of his grip. "No, Pete."
Pete hooks his fingers into Patrick's waistband. "Ashlee doesn't care. We talked about it, Patrick."
"I can't. I'm your daughter's doctor." Patrick turns around to face him and Pete can't help smiling down into his earnest little face.
"And she loves you, can't wait to see you even though it usually means shots from the mean nurses." Pete rubs his thumb over Patrick's sideburns. "We're not tearing anything apart in this room, Patrick. I love my daughter, I love my wife and I love you. See, enough love for everyone. Patrick." Pete leans down to suck Patrick's plump bottom lip into his mouth before slipping his tongue inside.
Patrick stands stock still for a minute before giving in and kissing back, hands sliding up into Pete's coarse black hair. Pete crowds him back against his desk and thanks whoever's listening for Patrick's obsessive compulsive ways, because the desk is free of clutter and it's the easiest thing in the world to coax Patrick up on the hard wood surface and sink down on his knees for him. Patrick looks down at him with pupils blow wide and Pete just wants.
He unbuttons Patrick's khaki slacks, pulls his striped blue shirt out of his pants, tugs down his zipper and slides his hand into Patrick's boxers. Patrick is hot against his palm and Pete pulls him out into the open air and licks the bead of precome from Patrick's cockhead.
"Ahhhhh," Patrick's hands move to cradle the back of Pete's head and Pete doesn't resist at all when Patrick pulls him forward.
**
Cash rolls his chair back and forth, wrapping surgical sutures around his fingers absently. The labor board is completely clean; the last scheduled c-section was hours ago. "You know," Cash bites his lip as one of the strings slips free from his gloved fingers, "Dr. Urie is hot. Kind of makes me look forward to working with the kiddies."
Singer mutters, "Sniffing after Dr. Urie's ass.'
Marshall shushes them both, because more often than not Cash fails to take his surroundings into consideration and goads Singer into running off at the mouth with him.
"And what a fine ass it is," Cash interjects loudly. "Dr. Smith has got to be made of stone or in love with some other guy to not want to tap that. If I had a friend that was into me and looked that hot, I would be trying to hit it all the time, all over the place."
Marshall feels like poking his eyes out or better yet, poking Cash's eyes out. It's becoming more painful by the day to be around Cash and Singer, mostly because of Cash's oblivious assholery. Marshall wants to tell Singer to just move on, beg him to, but he doesn't think that will go over so well. So, yeah, stuck holding his tongue.
Singer's knuckles are white, gripping the book he has his head buried in, but Cash has finally fallen silent. Marshall glances at Cash out the corner of his eyes to find him watching Singer with a confused expression. He notices Marshall watching and his default cockiness slides back into place. Marshall just shakes his head and leans back in his own chair. Ian was wearing scrubs that were tighter than normal at lunch and Marshall appreciated the view, really appreciated the view. He shifts lower in his seat and spreads his legs. Ian hates having to wear his hair back in a ponytail, has threatened to cut it, but Marshall likes it. He likes it so much that he dreams about it at night, wants to pull Ian's head back and bite at his throat.
"You're totally over there picturing Ian naked, aren't you?"
Marshall snaps back into himself and almost falls on the floor. Cash gives his hyena laugh and even Singer is smiling a little bit.
Marshall counts it as a win.
**
"I miss you." Jon slides into the booth beside Ryan and Ryan closes his book.
Ryan shakes his head. "I thought you were through with me."
Jon steals a fry off of Ryan's tray. He pops the potato strip into his mouth but his brown eyes are completely serious. "I could never be through with you; you're under my skin." He repeats, "I miss you," and Ryan wants to lean against him. He misses Jon, too.
He shrugs. "We're still in the same place." Ryan taps his fingers nervously against the table and Jon places his hand on top of his.
Jon sighs. "Ryan..." He pauses, "we have a couple of years left; I understand you don't want to be pushed into a decision right now." Ryan snorts derisively, but Jon ignores him. "I understand that you've never been apart, always just a stone's throw from each other. Hell, you waited a whole year so that you could start medical school together. I get it, okay. Spencer is important to you, but I was kind of hoping that I was important to you."
"You were; you are." Ryan fidgets with the bracelets around his wrists. "I don't understand why you can't just accept a job here. It's a good program and the attendings love you." Ryan has a job offer at the hospital; Spencer and Brendon have been offered positions.
"Ryan, you know I have to go back to Chicago." Jon dips his head. "I want you to come with me. Please, come with me. I don't want to do this without you."
But I will. Ryan hears the unspoken. He wants to be with Jon, wants to pack up what little he has here and follow him back to his home. It would be easy enough. Every hospital wants an extra anesthesiologist on staff. But Ryan can't pack up Spencer and put him in his pocket.
"Jon..." Ryan looks into his earnest brown eyes and Jon pulls him forward for a quick kiss.
"Am I interrupting something?"
Ryan pulls back to find Spencer staring down at him with quizzical blue eyes. Ryan says, "No, of course not."
"Of course not," Jon echoes.
"Guys, what's going on?" Brendon scoots around Spencer and into the opposite side of the booth.
Jon sits back. "Nothing, just getting some lunch with friends."
Brendon looks back and forth between the three of them and says slowly, "Okay."
Spencer turns on his heel and stalks off to get something to eat. Ryan picks at his food a little and Brendon talks to fill the tense silence. Jon relaxes by Ryan's side degree by degree and laughs with Brendon about the overbearing parents on the pediatrics ward.
"Spencer." Brendon beams at Spencer when he returns to the table and Ryan wonders if he's the problem in that relationship, also. Wonders if he's holding Spencer back from taking things with Brendon to the next level with his neediness.
He's too afraid to ask.
Jon bumps his shoulder into his and tilts his head toward Jon's without thinking about it, the way he used to do when they first started seeing each other, in the new couple phase.
Jon squeezes his knee under the table.
**
"Frank wanted to me to ask you should he be worried about your new found love of surgeons?" Mikey continues to peck at his phone.
Gerard can feel his cheeks heating up. "What new found love of surgeons?"
Mikey gives him an unimpressed look. "Gee, everyone knows you're stalking Dr. Ballato. Frank's pretty pissed about it."
"He didn't seem to care when I was stalking him."
"He was playing hard to get. He didn't think you'd give up and start stalking someone else. Seriously, though, Gee. That woman's kind of scary."
Gerard takes a drag off of his cigarette. "I like scary."
**
"I'm beginning to think that something more than just incorrect formula mixing is going on here." Dr. Stump frowns down at the little baby staring back up at him briefly before making a face at the tiny girl. He waves his stethoscope in front of the baby's face before placing it on her chest to listen for heart abnormalities. The baby tracks the movement but makes no move to reach out and grab the instrument.
Dr. Stump says, "What are some reasons that a baby might fail to thrive besides malnutrition?"
Ian pipes up first because baby Benson is his patient. He says, "Problem with malabsorption."
"What specifically might be causing this baby to have problems absorbing her formula?" Dr. Stump quizzes.
"Around 85% of African Americans are lactose intolerant."
"Mmmmhmmm." Patrick places his stethoscope back around his neck. "Go on."
"Some metabolic process."
"Structural abnormality."
"Hyperthyroidism."
Dr. Stump turns the baby over on her stomach and watches for her to turn over; she just stays there, limp and fussy. He picks her up and hands her back to her aunt. The mother has been absent more times than not during morning rounds. Ian watches closely as he taps his chin. Dr. Stump says, "Let's get T cell counts on this little one. Something's going on here."
Ian makes a note to look for the test results in the morning.
They move on to the next patient; this time Johnson's presenting and Ian is trying to hide his smile, because hearing Johnson talk about baby poop never fails to strike him as hilarious. Johnson's patient is a two year old with a firm grasp of the word no. The little boy is on his way out with only a couple of more days of treatment and he spends more time in the playroom than the hospital bed.
Dr. Stump asks a few questions but he seems preoccupied by the little girl up the hall. He wraps rounds up quicker than usual and disappears off the ward to consult with the immunology department head.
Dr. Urie grins at them. "You guys did a good job. What else do you have to do today?"
Ian looks at Johnson and he shrugs back at him. Ian says, "We don't have anything else scheduled for the rest of the day.'
Dr. Urie nods. "Why don't you just go grab some lunch and don't come back."
Johnson asks, "Are you sure?" and Dr. Urie nods.
Ian says, "Thanks," before Johnson can get them roped into doing busy work.
They head back to the consultation room and grab their books.
They walk toward the stadium parking in silence until Johnson says, "Are you going to say something to Marshall?"
Ian stumbles over an imaginary rock on the sidewalk. "Excuse me?"
"Singer and Marshall aren't going to wait around forever. They might end up together if you and Cash keep playing games."
"I'm not playing games." Ian hefts his book bag more securely on his shoulder. "I just don't know what he'll say."
Johnson shoots him an unimpressed look. "He's going to say yes, man. I would be surprised if he didn't blow you on the spot, the way he was looking at your ass in those too-little scrubs the other day."
Ian punches his arm and doesn't say anything in return.
**
"What's wrong?" Spencer snaps his book closed and pierces Ryan with a look that demands he spill his soul.
Ryan stretches his legs leisurely and turns his head until he can stare up at Spencer from his lap. "Why do you keep ignoring Brendon's advances?"
Spencer breaks eye contact, cheekbones flushing pink. "Advances, really, Ryan. I asked what was bothering you; don't try to distract me."
"Maybe that is what's bothering me. I don't want you to be alone, Spencer." Because of me.
"Is this about Jon?" Spencer cards a hand through Ryan's hair, brushing it off his forehead.
Ryan pushes up into the touch like a cat. "It's just I've never pictured my future without you in it."
Spencer huffs a laugh. "I'll always be there, Ryan, even if we're not in each other's pocket."
"You're going to stay here, aren't you? With Brendon?"
"I..." Spencer looks at the ceiling. "I think I will. Have you decided?" He asks the question without weight, waiting without judgment.
Ryan still hesitates, still rolls it around on his tongue. "I think I have."
Spencer tugs on the end of a lock of hair. "You know where you need to be."
Ryan knows where he needs to be. "I like Brendon."
Spencer laughs. "I know. I like Jon, too. I like him better when you're making each other happy instead of sad and silly."
"I'm going to talk to him."
"Good." Spencer opens his book back up and Ryan pokes it when it comes too close to his nose.
**
"You know that shit is against the rules." Cash's voice is full of enough venom to kill two grown men.
Singer just rolls his eyes and asks, "What shit, Cash?" It must be something awfully horrible to get Cash harping on rules.
Cash throws his books down on the worn couch in the student lounge and whirls around to face Singer, hands flying in the air. "I don't like the way he touches you!"
"Who touches me?" Singer has somehow lost the thread of the conversation; hell, he never had it.
Cash shakes a furious finger in his face. "Dr. Brown! He has his hands all over your hair all the time. And what the hell was the deal with him putting his arms around you this morning?"
"Dr. Brown?" Then the light dawns. "You're jealous of Dr. Brown." Singer's eyes are wide.
"I'm not fucking jealous of Dr. Brown. I just don't want you to be that one whore on rotation that fucks all the residents."
Singer scowls. Fuck Cash and fuck this. He pokes Cash in the chest. "What the fuck business is it of yours who I fuck? I might get down on my knees for him just to make sure I get an A on this rotation."
Cash's face flushes an ugly purple and he slaps Singer's hand away. "You wouldn't know what to do on your knees, because no one has ever wanted you enough to ask you for it."
Singer punches him in his damn hurtful mouth before he even has a chance to think about swinging. He stumbles away before Cash can do more than bring his own hand up to his face. "You don't know a damn thing about me, Cash Colligan, but trust me when I say that I'll fuck every resident in this hospital before I get on my knees for you." He yanks the door open and walks out, thankful that he never took off his bag. He takes out his phone and punches the first number he can remember.
"Hello?"
"Umm, Ian, it's me."
Ian says, "Dude, I know. Is something wrong?"
Singer takes a deep breath. "Can you meet me in the women's hospital cafe?"
"Sure thing, man." Ian hangs up the phone.
Singer wipes a hand over his face and starts walking to the hospital cafe.
**
When Marshall comes back from the Registrar's office to find Cash sitting alone at the sign out board, he figures something has happened. "Where's Singer?" he asks the back of Cash's head. Cash turns around to look at him and Marshall's eyes get wide. "Who punched you in the mouth, dude?"
Cash shrugs angrily. "Who do you think?"
"Singer?" Marshall can't even begin to wrap his head around that one or maybe he can. He sighs. "What did you say?"
"I just wanted him to stop acting like a whore for Dr. Brown."
Marshall slaps his own head. "You are so stupid." Cash goes to open his mouth and Marshall cuts him off. "You didn't mind it when he was acting like a whore for you."
"Singer is not a whore," Cash hisses, "don't call him that."
"But it's okay for you to call him that?" Marshall shakes his head before moving closer to get a better look at Cash's busted lip. "He socked you good, didn't he? I hope you've been using this time to figure out how to apologize to him."
Cash shrugs again sullenly. They both look up as Dr. Smith asks, "What happened to your mouth? Where is Singer?"
**
Ian says, "Of course, you can stay with us for the night, man. You know you're always welcome." Johnson nods along because Dr. Urie had let both of them go check on Singer, not just Ian.
"Cash was way out of line." Johnson's mouth quirks to the side. "I hope you hit him hard, not some sissy slap."
Singer remembers the look of shock on Cash's face, the blood at his mouth and feels guilty for a second, even though Cash totally deserved it. "I have to go back to L&D."
Ian glances at Singer's down turned face and asks, "Do you want me to talk to Dr. Urie, see if he can get Dr. Smith to give you the rest of the day off?"
Singer pushes his ice cream around his bowl. "Do you think that he can? I mean I don't want to start anything, but I'd really rather not have to deal with Cash anymore today."
"I'm sure Dr. Urie can get you the afternoon off. He claims he has Smith wrapped around his finger."
Singer smiles at the thought of Dr. Smith wrapped around anyone's finger and gets up to follow Ian and Johnson to the pediatrics department. He wonders what Cash is doing now, what he told Marshall about his mouth.
Dr. Urie is a tiny bundle of hotness and he gives Singer big, sympathetic eyes when Ian explains the situation with minimal embellishment. He says, "Sure, I'll go down and talk to Spencer with you." Ian grins over his shoulder at Singer.
The elevator ride down is quick and Dr. Urie smiles at all the tittering nurses while they page Dr. Smith for him. Dr. Smith lifts an eyebrow to see Singer hanging behind Dr. Urie's shoulder. "Why do you have one of my students, Brendon?"
Dr. Urie grabs his wrist and tugs him in a corner to explain. Singer stands by the nurse's station awkwardly and watches as Dr. Urie leans in close and touches Dr. Smith's chest. Dr. Smith's expression softens when Dr. Urie pouts at him and he nods his head briefly gaining a brilliant grin before Dr. Urie makes his way back to Singer.
Dr. Urie says, "Singer, you can spend the rest of the day with me and Johnson and Ian is going to hang out down here."
**
Marshall forgets all about Cash's drama when Ian steps into view. "Ian," he breathes like some dime store heroine and immediately feels like an idiot, but Ian just smiles at him and pulls up a chair.
"Marshall," Ian says and Marshall wants to pull his ponytail so badly. Cash is currently in a c-section, so there's nothing for them to do for a while.
"Don't try to choke Cash or anything, man. He feels bad enough as it is and Singer really got him good."
Ian tips his head back. "Singer is staying with us tonight."
"Huh." Marshall guesses that's a good thing, give them both some time to cool off, but he doesn't want the two of them to go too long without speaking. Singer can hold on to a grudge just as long as he's held on to his crush on Cash and Cash is just a stubborn asshole. "How's Peds?"
"Dr. Urie is pretty much awesome and Dr. Stump is only scary until you get to know him better." Ian tilts his head thoughtfully and Marshall can hear his ponytail swish across his back. "You need to know your stuff though."
"OB is cool; the residents are a bit intimidating but everyone's really fair." Marshall leans forward. "So, Dr. Urie is totally into Dr. Smith, huh?"
Ian smiles at him. "Totally."
Marshall looks around furtively, then says, "That would be hot."
Ian nods in agreement. "Totally."
**
Singer punches the lumpy pillow Ian gave him and turns over irritably on the floor. Fuck Cash and his stupidity. There are tons of people in the world that want to see him on his knees, want to get down on their knees for him. He flops over onto his back. Dr. Brown wants to stick his dick in Singer's mouth. He thinks about the resident's hand resting low on his back. At the time, it seemed totally innocent, but maybe he can see where Cash was coming from.
He scowls. He's not going to talk himself into forgiving Cash that easily. Cash is an asshole, an asshole that flat out said that no one would ever want to fuck Singer. He huffs and punches his pillow again.
"Dude, I can hear you tossing and turning from the bedroom."
Singer looks up and Ian's standing over him. He pouts up at him until he sighs and folds down to sit on the floor beside him. Singer sits up in his mess of blankets. "Ian, you'd let me suck your dick, wouldn't you?"
Ian holds his hands up, startled. "Whoa, man, you know I'm into getting my cock sucked, but," he shrugs, "Marshall." Singer had maybe forgotten about Marshall. He sighs and picks at a loose thread on the blanket. Ian says, "But if not for that, I would totally let you suck me off." Singer gives him a quick smile before picking at the blanket some more. "You know Cash didn't mean any of that, right?" Ian's giving him an earnest look.
Singer's not so sure. He shrugs his shoulders and when Ian pulls him close, he snuggles in. Ian has his hair down and it's standing up all over his head, enjoying the freedom. Ian squeezes his shoulder. "Do you want me to tell you in extreme detail what I want to do to Marshall?" Singer shrugs again just to be difficult and Ian starts talking.
He says, "You can't tell him this, because this is what I want to do to him, not what I'm going to do, because I'm a gentleman." Singer hides his eye roll against Ian's side. "You know how Marshall walks around all pretty and shit like he doesn't know what he's doing to you?" Singer did not know that. "I just want to trap him in a corner and shove my dick in his mouth."
Singer sits up so he can get a better look at Ian's face. Ian's expression is sort of dreamy. Singer pokes him in the side. "You've been watching too much internet porn. Marshall is going to bite your dick off."
Ian smiles at him and ruffles his hair. "I'm going to jerk off while the memory is fresh." He stands up and disappears into his bedroom. Singer settles back down and drifts off to sleep, thinking about what he wants to do to Cash.
**
Jon's hair is standing up all over his head, stubble lining his cheeks. He blinks blearily at Ryan in the early morning light and leans his shoulder against the door frame. "Here to fuck and run again?" It's barely a question; Jon's tone is so dry.
Ryan winces because he's been guilty of that in the past during the time they were fighting about everything and nothing under the sun. They had fucked like it was the answer to life; it hadn't been. Ryan shifts his weight nervously and asks, "May I come in?"
Jon falls back silently, letting Ryan enter the apartment. He offers Ryan an old slice of pizza, but Ryan refuses because he's nauseous enough as it is. Jon's just waiting, waiting for him to get to the point. Ryan takes a deep breath. "I want to be with you, go with you." Jon doesn't react the way Ryan expects him to. Jon stays still, quiet. He doesn't smile, doesn't rush over and pull Ryan into his arms. Ryan breaks first. "Say something please."
"What about Spencer?" Jon's still holding himself apart.
"Spencer understands. He's still going to stay here with Brendon."
Jon straightens and it's like a wall has fallen. Ryan moves into his arms and Jon strokes his hair, turning his head to whisper, "I love you. I'm glad you're coming with me." He kisses Ryan softly, stubble scratching his cheeks and Ryan clings to him happy to have Jon back into his arms.
**
Marshall's pretty sure that he has never been happier to be heading back to his single bedroom apartment. The atmosphere at work had been chilly enough for the resident's to take notice. To make matters worse, Dr. Brown had helpfully made his sympathetic shoulder available to Singer. Cash's face turned purple with fury; Marshall thought he was going to stroke out.
He kicks his shoes off just inside the door and wiggles his toes in his socks. He's just started winding down when his cell phone rings interrupting his light doze. It's Ian.
"Hey."
Ian doesn't return his greeting, just says, "Can I come over?"
The "Sure" is escaping Marshall's mouth before he has time to think about it.
"I'll be right over." Ian cuts the connection.
Marshall doesn't panic, doesn't run and jump in the shower. He simply flops back down on his second hand couch and waits. The time between the end of the phone call and the doorbell ringing seems incredibly short. He rolls off the sofa and trudges to the door. Ian's standing there in jeans and a t-shirt, hair still damp and maybe Marshall should have jumped in the shower. Ian smiles at him and he smiles back and they're standing there grinning at each other stupidly until Ian says, "Can I come in?"
Marshall rolls his eyes, "Of course." He pulls Ian through the door; Ian follows easily without any resistance at all. Marshall closes, locks the door and turns around to find Ian crowding him against the wall to the side of the door.
Ian says, "Hi," and Marshall returns his greeting breathlessly. Ian brushes his bang out of his eyes. "Are we doing this?"
Marshall nods his head because they are so doing this. Ian flashes him another quick smile before leaning in to kiss him. He wraps his arms around Ian's neck and opens his mouth to deepen the kiss.
Ian kisses Marshall until he's hard and trying to wrap one leg around Ian's waist. Ian laughs into his mouth and pushes his leg down; Marshall whines and clutches at him as Ian pulls away from him, but he starts making noise for an entirely different reason when Ian drops to his knees in front of him.
"Oh." Marshall's head hits the wall when Ian tugs down his scrub pants.
Ian peeks up at him. "I'm glad you didn't change."
Marshall's glad too. The tv is on, but Marshall can barely hear it over the noise in his head. His hips push forward when Ian licks a stripe up the underside of his dick. Ian wraps his hands around Marshall's hips and sucks the head into his mouth. He presses Marshall back as he works slowly down the shaft, tongue swirling.
Marshall gives up on politeness and sinks his fingers into Ian's hair. Ian just hums and takes him deeper. "Uh, uhhhh." The grip Marshall has on Ian's head makes it impossible for Ian to pull back when he starts to come. The sensation of Ian swallowing just pushes him higher.
Ian doesn't let him fall when his knees give out; he eases him to the floor and kisses him. Marshall tastes his own come but he doesn't think about it too much, because he's too busy trying to replace his taste with Ian's.
**
"What's up with Ryan?" Brendon flops down on the couch, more on top of Spencer than beside him. A bowl of popcorn is resting on the table in front of them. Ryan's at Jon's place and Brendon's invited himself over to watch movies.
Spencer shifts until he's comfortable and says, "He's going to follow Jon."
Brendon's silent for a long moment before he asks quietly, "Are you going to follow Ryan?" Brendon's already committed to the main hospital, has been committed from day one when he accepted a full scholarship from the university.
Spencer cards his fingers through Brendon's hair. "No, I'm pretty sure I'll be staying here if they'll have me."
Brendon turns his face into Spencer's neck and takes a deep breath. The tension leeches from his body when he exhales. He says, "They would be crazy not to want you."
Spencer presses a kiss to the top of Brendon's messy hair and hits play.
**
Cash's head snaps up from the book he's pretending to read when Singer steps inside the apartment, closes and locks the door behind him. Singer drops his own head and mutters, "Not now, Cash." Cash ignores him like every other time that Singer has ever opened his mouth and jumps off the couch and into his face.
"Not staying with Ian tonight?" Cash doesn't let him go around him. He grabs Singer's arms. "I let you get away with ignoring me all day. Talk to me already." He shakes Singer a little.
Singer lets out a tired breath and tips his head back to look into Cash's irate eyes. "What do you want me to say, Cash? Hasn't it all been said? I hear you; I understand, okay? You think I'm a stupid, little boy that no one's ever going to want. What else is there to talk about? Do you to give me a swift kick in the balls to physically top off the verbal beat down?"
Cash's grip has changed from restraining to simply there; his mouth is hanging open and his eyes are wide. "I--I," His mouth snaps shut and his eyebrows draw together over his bright eyes. He bursts out abruptly, "What the hell are you talking about?" and Singer flinches back from him. Cash scowls at the protective movement and insists, "I just didn't want you to fall for that dick's lines. You're better than that."
Singer throws up his hands in exasperation, knocking Cash's aside. He's ready to be through with this conversation, ready to move on with his life. "Why do you even care, Cash? At least he wants me."
"I want you!" Cash shouts, face flushed red.
The clock ticks loudly in the sudden silence and Singer blinks stupidly. "What?"
"I want you," Cash repeats and this time he sounds desperate instead of angry. He steps closer to Singer, hand brushing an errant curl out of his face. "I want you; I-"
Singer kisses him and Cash immediately kisses back, mouth hard and anxious against Singer's. Singer jerks in surprise when Cash bites his lower lip and Cash gentles his touch just slightly, hands sliding beneath Singer's scrub top, bumping up over his abs, finding his nipples. Singer squirms and Cash grins against his mouth.
The carpet is rough beneath his shoulders after Cash pulls him to the floor and tugs his shirt over his head. His legs fall open naturally around Cash's hips and he gasps when Cash thrusts down against him. He says, "Wait, wait," because there is no way he's going to come in his hospital issued scrubs. Cash growls at Singer's efforts to push him back, but quickly gets with the program once he realizes that Singers trying to get rid of his pants. He helps Singer with his pants and makes quick work of his own clothes.
It doesn't seem like Cash has any sort of plan. He abandons Singer's mouth to bite the sharp point of his hipbone. Cash sucks the head of Singer's cock into his mouth just long enough to make him arch before sitting back on his knees, leaving Singer grasping at air. Cash says, "We don't have anything," and it takes Singer longer than it should to figure out what he means.
Singer doesn't want to stop, doesn't want to pause for long enough for him to come back to his senses. He groans, still reaching for Cash. "Can't you, can't we..." He gives up trying to articulate his thoughts, frustrated.
Cash is staring at him, eyes darting from his mouth to his cock, to the way Singer's legs are still spread. He says, "Yeah, we can," and dips his head back down to lick at the base of Singer's dick. Despite what Cash thinks, Singer has had his dick sucked before, but it had never made Singer want to just give up all control and go for it. He kind of really wants to hold Cash by his ears and fuck his throat. Man, he's been spending too much time with Ian. Cash hums around his mouthful and all thoughts of Ian fly out of Singer's head. He pants, throat feeling raw like he's the one on his knees. "Cash," he tries to warn, but Cash doesn't move back just tightens his grip on Singer's hips. His fingers slide over Cash's head, unable to find purchase in his too short hair as Singer comes down his throat. He can feel Cash swallow at the end before he lets Singer fall out of his mouth and he shudders at the aftershock.
He can hear Cash dragging in rough gulps of air, but he's too gone to open his eyes to look at him. Cash moves up his body, bites his neck just beneath his ear. "I would really, really like to see you on your knees for me," he whispers and pushes his cock into the crease where thigh meets torso. "Like now."
Singer smiles at the desperation in Cash's voice and finds the strength to flip him over onto his back. Cash isn't exactly fighting him and when Singer licks wetly over Cash's cockhead, he makes the sweetest sound that Singer has ever heard.
Author: ficsoreal
Pairings: Cash/Singer, Ian/Marshall, Brendon/Spencer, Jon/Ryan, Patrick/Pete + Ashlee, Gerard/his hand
Rating: R
Words: 9559
Summary: Hospital AU
A/N: Hugs and kisses to miserylovedme for the beta. All remaining mistakes are my own. I actually want Pete to name his daughter, Magnolia Blossom, and if he has a little boy, Spaghetti Noodle.
Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction.
Cash looks up, pen dangling from his mouth, when a exasperated Dr. Smith comes marching into the sign out area with a green looking Singer in tow. Dr. Smith is still wearing his protective blue plastic elf boots, awesome hair up in the hair net. He pushes Singer gently toward Cash and Marshall and says wearily, "Please, get Alex some water and a chair," before stomping back off down the hall.
Marshall and Cash just look at Singer for a moment, before Cash's eyes light up evilly and he crows, "You totally fainted, didn't you?"
Singer's cheeks flush a bright red, chasing away the sickly green and Marshall pushes a chair over to him. Singer flops down in the offered seat. Marshall asks, "What happened, dude?"
Singer looks a little queasy again. "It was awful; it was like this head forcing its way out of this girl's vagina and she was screaming hysterically," he waves his hands around, "and then there was blood every where. It was kinda like a horror movie."
The room is silent for a split second before Cash bursts out laughing. "Dude! We're on Labor and Delivery! What did you expect?"
"Less blood and more pain medicine." Singer shudders and Marshall gives up playing at sympathetic and laughs and laughs in Singer's pasty little face.
"Dr. Smith is going to write you a scathing evaluation." Cash uses the pen he had been chewing on to pretend to write in the air. "Alex does not have the balls to bring new life into the world."
Marshall pipes up, "Singer faints at the sight of vaginas." They both burst into laughter again.
"Shut the fuck up," Singer mutters. "Why couldn't I be in Ian and Johnson's group?"
Marshall answers, "Because Cash owns you."
Cash starts laughing again and Singer makes a bitter face at him. It wouldn't be as funny if it wasn't true. Fuck Cash Colligan.
**
Dr. Urie rocks back in his chair. "It's not that Dr. Stump is a hard ass; he just wants to make sure you learn something on this rotation. He's really good at his job and he cares about his patients.'
Ian glances sideways at Johnson and almost cracks the fuck up at the careful lack of expression on his face. Johnson is so not into Pediatrics and is just trying to make it through the rotations. The last thing he wants to hear is that the attending expects the world of his medical students. Johnson turns to look at him and his long ponytail swishes against the back of his white coat. It makes Ian touch the back of his own head self consciously. Apparently, big hair is frowned upon in the hospital. He sighs. The ponytail holders make his head hurt after two hours. It's just not right; his hair was made to be free. He thinks fondly of Dr. Trohman. Dr. Troh got to wear his hair like he wanted to, one of the perks of being a Ph. D. instead of an M.D.
"How did you two get into the same group?" Dr. Urie is looking at the two of them curiously. Ian finds it hard to focus on his face, even though Dr. Urie is hot, because he has a stuffed monkey hanging off the stethoscope hanging around his neck. Dr. Urie goes on, "Was it because you both had great hair?"
Johnson says, "That was exactly what happened."
Dr. Urie beams at him and asks, "Your friends are on L&D, right? Are they working with Dr. Smith?"
**
"Why does it seem like you have so much time off when I know that you've been working all night in the ER?" Patrick reaches for another chart, one of his chronic patients. He knows little Dean's entire family and that saddens him more than anything else. That Dean has been in and out of the hospital so many times that Patrick gained that knowledge.
Pete grins at him, eyes rimmed with dark circles, still in his blue hospital issue scrubs. He says, "I just wanted to drop by and see how the best kid doctor in the world was doing this morning." He rubs the back of his neck ruefully. "Plus, I promised the wife that I would meet her for lunch."
"How is Ashlee?"
"Great, loving her job." Pete throws the squeaky ball on Patrick's desk into the air and Patrick glares at him. Pete just keeps smiling at him. "Libby asked about you the other day."
Patrick glances up. "Really?" Libby is Pete's little girl and Patrick's practically the only person that calls her Libby or the only person she'll acknowledge using that particular nickname. Patrick makes a face just thinking about her real name but Pete always says that an unique name will make her a better person. Patrick thinks it will make her an angrier person when she grows up; he's waiting to tell Pete, "I told you so."
"She wants to know when Uncle Patrick is coming over to see her." Pete raises his eyebrows questioningly.
Patrick smiles, then frowns slightly. "It's almost time for her well child check up, isn't it?"
Pete sighs.
**
The best thing about the women's hospital and the children's hospital is that they are right next to each other, making it possible for the OBGYN students and the Peds students to eat lunch together. Ian waves a hand at Marshall and Marshall taps Cash and Singer on the shoulder to point him out before heading over to the table.
Ian asks, "Dr. Smith let you deliver any babies today?"
Marshall puts his tray down carefully and shakes his head. "The only baby we delivered today was Singer."
"Hey!" Singer says from behind him and Cash snickers.
"Please, sit down and stop looming." Johnson takes a bite out of his patty melt. Cash shrugs out of his dingy white coat and reaches over to grab the pickle off of Ian's plate. Ian watches Singer watch Cash suck the sour juice off the pickle slice before biting down into it. Marshall elbows him and Ian rolls his eyes at him. Johnson kicks him under the table and says, "Like you can talk." Ian blushes and turns back to his own food.
Cash says, "I'm not sure how I feel about L&D, but Dr. Smith is the shit. He knows his stuff. I've been in like five c-sections and he would definitely be the one I would take my future wife to." Singer starts choking across the table and Cash claps him on the back. "You okay, man?"
Singer gulps down some water, eyes leaking and chokes out, "Fine, fine." Marshall is giving him a sympathetic look from across the table. Ian wishes he could get some sympathetic looks from somebody. Johnson just gives him pitying looks, Cash is an ass that thinks his crush is hilarious and Singer is too caught up in his own drama to get involved with Ian's. And Marshall, Marshall is an oblivious little fuck. A very pretty, oblivious little fuck.
Cash stops describing his perfect, imaginary wife and says, voice full of amusement, "And speaking of Dr. Smith, Singer fainted today in the delivery room."
All eyes focus on Singer and Singer insists defensively, "I did not faint. I just got a little light headed and tripped over a nurse on the way out the room."
"I would just say I fainted, dude," Ian advised and Cash starts laughing again, but he gives Singer one of his chocolate chip cookies.
Marshall tugs the spill of curls falling down Ian's back and says, "I like this."
Ian ducks his head and mutters, "It makes my head hurt."
"I think you all should just get that shit cut short." He rubs a hand over his own shorn hair. He looks across at Singer. "Except Singer. Ladies should have long hair."
"Fuck you," Singer hisses quietly because they're surrounded on all sides by staff.
Cash leans back in his chair and smiles. "Anytime, baby, anytime."
Johnson breaks in before Singer throws an absolute shit fit. "Dr. Smith? Isn't that the guy, Dr. Urie was asking us about?"
Ian says, "Yeah, yeah, it was. Dr. Urie has a huge boner for him."
"That's because he's awesome." Cash slings his arm around the back of Singer's chair. "Much too awesome for a pediatrician."
"I don't know...Dr. Urie is pretty hot."
"They were in the same medical school class and now they're both second year residents. That's a long time; if they were ever going to get together, surely they would have already, right?" The table gets strangely silent and Cash repeats, "Right, guys?"
Johnson says, "Things change, people change all the time."
Singer shoots him a grateful look.
**
"I always like when we get new M3s." Brendon waves his sucker at Spencer. "New doctors in the making, trying to find their direction in life."
Spencer frowns at his sucker. "What kind of pediatrician are you? Every time I see you, you're eating candy."
Brendon sticks his tongue out at him. He brushes his teeth all the time; he's an excellent role model for young people. He smiles at Spencer so that he can get the full effect of his ultra white teeth. "I'll have you know that I have never had a single cavity, Dr. Smith. Can you say the same thing?" Spencer flips him off. "I thought not," Brendon returns smugly.
"What are you two arguing about now?" Ryan pulls out the chair next to Spencer. "Wait, don't tell me. I'm on Spencer's side."
Brendon makes a face at him. "Just so you know, Spencer's side is the losing side."
Ryan shrugs and asks, "How are the new kids?"
"One of them fainted this morning."
Ryan says, "Oh, another Brendon again, then."
"Hey! I did not faint at anytime during my L&D rotation." Brendon is so offended. He just happens to like children better after they have been liberated from their mother's vagina.
Spencer grins at him brightly. "Brendon, your preceptor said that you were afraid of vaginas...in your permanent record."
Brendon glowers at him. He's never going to live that one evaluation down. He changes the subject. "So, Pete was hanging out in the Ped's department again this morning. Passing the time with Patrick until lunch time."
"That guy has the most understanding wife ever. He's married with a kid and if you didn't know any better you would swear that he's dating Dr. Stump." Ryan takes a slurp of his coffee. "I have got to find a wife that trusts me that much."
"I don't know if it's trust or the fact that she's always traveling around to recruit students." Spencer stabs his salad viciously and Brendon winces.
"I don't think that Patrick is having an affair with Pete. He's Pear's godfather. He's just a close family friend." Brendon bites down into his sucker; it crunches satisfyingly.
"Who's a close family friend?" A familiar voice asks.
Brendon grins up at the brown eyed man standing over them. "Jon! Back from the creepy land of internal medicine. The kids missed you."
Jon is smart, handsome and charming, the kind of guy Brendon would have to hate if he wasn't also one of the nicest people, Brendon knew. Jon's a MedPeds resident and he's been on the medicine part of his rotation for the past three months. Jon smiles back at him. "Yeah, dude. I'm back with the kids." Brendon high fives him as he sits down. Jon says, "Spencer, Ryan."
Spencer raises his soda to Jon, but Ryan just returns, "Jon," kind of flatly. Jon's smile falters. Brendon isn't sure what went down between Ryan and Jon and Spencer isn't sharing, but he's sure it wasn't nice. Things have been awkward between them for about a month.
Spencer breaks the odd tension by asking, "Did you have a surgery run over, Ryan?" Ryan's usually the first one at the lunch table.
Ryan says, "Jacob had a family emergency, so I had to cover his scheduled c-section. It wasn't too much of an inconvenience."
Jon smiles again, but this time it has an edge to it. "Yeah, how hard can it be to turn on the gas and sit around reading a book, while real doctors operate."
"Guys, don't." Spencer places a hand on Ryan's arm and glares across the table at Jon. Jon holds his hands up in surrender and Ryan relaxes under Spencer's hand. Brendon looks back and forth between the two, eyes wide.
**
"What I'm I supposed to tell them, Mikey?" Gerard taps his pen on the open note pad in front of him. "They've just failed the most important test in their young lives and I'm supposed to give them some words of wisdom." He puts the pen down carefully in front of him and uses both hands to clutch at the office phone. "I can't do this."
Mikey makes a disgruntled sound over the phone connection and says, "Gee, you know I'm at work, right? At this very moment, I could be discovering a brand new antibiotic, but instead I'm on the phone with my freaking out brother."
"What are you trying to say?"
Mikey blows air noisily into the receiver. "You can do this, Gee. You were made Dean of Student Affairs because the school had full faith in your abilities to handle students in all their ups and downs. Just be yourself and tell them it's not the end of the world even though it may feel like it."
Gerard says, "Thank you, Mikey." He pauses then he asks, "Have you seen Dr. Iero today?"
Mikey says, "For the last time, we're not even on the same floor," and hangs up the phone.
Gerard stares at the phone for a moment, then pages his secretary to tell her to send in the first red eyed student. He takes a deep breath; he can do this.
**
"Sooooo," Marshall looks at Cash, who makes a go ahead motion at him, "that anesthesiologist is your friend?"
Dr. Smith looks away from the board to stare at Marshall blankly. Marshall shrinks in on himself a little bit. Singer smiles behind his head. Dr. Smith asks, "Ryan? Dr. Ross?" Marshall nods, voice used up for the moment. Dr. Smith quirks a smile. "Yeah, we've been friends since we were little." He turns his back to the board and says, "It doesn't look like any one's going to have a baby in the next couple of hours. If you boys want to take a break, go get your books and study, this would be the time to do it. Remember, you have lecture at nine." He waits until they all nod at him before turning on his heel and heading to the resident's lounge.
Singer waits until he thinks that Spencer is out of earshot to say, "My M1 buddy told me that Dr. Ross waited a whole year to apply to medical school just so they would be in the same class."
Marshall says, "Maybe the reason Dr. Urie doesn't stand a chance with Dr. Smith is because he's already fucking Dr. Ross."
"I doubt it," Cash opines. "You heard the man; they've been friends since they were little. What kind of guy fucks his best friend? That's not what best friends are for."
Singer stands up abruptly and grabs his back pack. "I'm just going to run to the student lounge for a second, get something out of my locker."
Cash watches him go before turning to ask Marshall, "What's wrong with Singer? He's been acting weird lately."
Marshall just shakes his head at him.
**
"When Dr. Stump asks you a question, just take a deep breath and answer it. He's not unreasonable and he's not trying to scar you for life like the surgeons." Dr. Urie smiles at them. "Ready?"
Johnson says dryly, "As we'll ever be."
Ian isn't sure what he thought the infamous Dr. Stump would look like, but this isn't it. Dr. Stump is tiny, tiny and wearing one of those little hats that the people in the surgery department wear all the time. He has strawberry blond sideburns, light colored eyes and a mouth made for giving blow jobs. Ian shakes his head because that's not the sort of thoughts a student should be having about his attending.
Dr. Stump smiles and says, "Dr. Urie and my new team for the next couple of weeks. Tell me your names."
"Ian Crawford."
"Alex Johnson."
Dr. Stump nods. "Nice to meet you both. Brendon, what do we have on the floor today?"
Dr. Urie says, "We have to Kawasaki kids, a ten month old with febrile seizures and a failure to thrive."
"Well, let's get started."
At the end of morning rounds, Ian knows two things: Dr. Stump knows his shit and he wants them to know theirs. He talks to Brendon in the corner and signs a few charts before disappearing back off to wherever he came from. Dr. Urie turns back to them with a smile and says, "Great doctor, huh?"
Ian nods dumbly and he can see Johnson do the same out the corner of his eye. Dr. Urie checks his wristwatch and says, "You guys go ahead to lunch and page me at about 1:30."
Johnson says, "Will do," and drags Ian away to go get his books and his lunch money.
"Have you ever seen Dr. Wentz?" Johnson shoots Ian a puzzled look at the sudden question. Ian flaps a hand at him. "You know, the ER doctor that supposedly has a thing for Dr. Stump."
"I thought he was married to the lady Dr. Wentz in administration?"
"He is," Ian agrees.
"Don't they have a little girl named Pear?"
Ian sighs. "Never mind."
"Isn't Dr. Stump her pediatrician?"
**
One of the third year residents lets out a wolf whistle that catches Singer's attention. A short, dark haired man with what seems like an extremely long lab coat on; on closer inspection, the guy is just on the short side. The third year yells out, "We are being invaded! They have sent forth a spy. Dr. Smith, you have a visitor."
They all watch as Dr. Smith comes out of the residents lounge, covering a yawn with his hand. Singer idly notices that Dr. Smith's hands are huge. Dr. Smith says, "Brendon, what are you doing down here?"
Brendon. Ooooh, Dr. Urie. Singer catches the raised eyebrows that Cash gives him and shares it with Marshall. This is the guy that wants Dr. Smith, according to Ian. They watch as Dr. Urie scuffs the floor in front of him with his multi-colored tennis shoes. Brendon says, "I was just wondering if you had time to get a cup of coffee or something."
Dr. Smith glances at the almost empty L&D board and looks at his upper level resident who shrugs. "I'll look after the children."
"Okay, yeah." Dr. Smith grabs his coat and follows Dr. Urie down the hall.
The upper level resident grins at them and waggles his eyebrows a bit before saying, "What do you guys know about gestational diabetes?"
Singer pulls out his notebook and settles in for the upcoming lecture.
**
After the fourth kid comes crying to him in his office about what a horrible person Dr. Ballato is, Gerard decides he needs to have a meeting with her, keep her from crushing young souls. He informs his secretary of this and her eyes get incredibly wide and frightened. Gerard thinks huh and goes on a fact finding mission.
All the other doctors in the surgery department describe her as a hard worker, a great orthopedic surgeon. All the students swear that she eats kittens for breakfast and beg him not to mention their names in her presence.
Gerard finds her faculty picture on the department website and finds her smoking hot. He's still not prepared for the reality of Dr. Lindsey Ballato. She's wearing the same hospital issue blue scrubs that all the surgeons wear, but she's rocking black combat boots and her hair is pulled back into a messy top knot. She takes the seat in front of his desk like she owns it and looks at her wristwatch like she has somewhere better to be.
Gerard clears his throat and says, "I'd like to talk to you about your student evaluations." She rolls her eyes as Gerard draws out a stack of papers. "You've gotten some interesting reviews, but I think they can all be summed up with 'she destroys souls'." He gives her an earnest look. "I think we should all be careful when we are dealing with student doctors trying to develop their professional identity."
Dr. Ballato stares at him, one eyebrow arched, before she leans forward. "Dr. Way," and the tone with which she says it lets him know exactly what she thinks about his doctorate degree, "I think we can both agree that we would want any future surgeon that comes out of this hospital to know basic anatomy. All I ask is that the students know their fucking arterial circulation before scrubbing into one of my surgeries. Are you seriously trying to tell me that's too much to ask from the people that might be putting a scalpel to your chest at some point in the future?"
Gerard swallows. "Umm, no?"
"I didn't think so. So, now if this meeting is over, I have to go crack a man's chest open."
Gerard watches her stomp out of his office and wonders how wrong it would be to go jerk off in his office bathroom.
**
Singer picks at the piece of fuzz on the carpet by his forehead and tries to figure out how he arrived at this place. He's in medical school, living with his best friend in the world and he's absolutely miserable. He flops his arms a couple of times and thinks about all the reading he needs to be doing. He needs to know everything about intrauterine growth restriction in the morning and he knows about ten percent of what he needs to know.
He doesn't look up when he hears footsteps in the kitchen; it's only one other person in the apartment. A foot nudges his leg and Singer makes a questioning sound but makes no move to get up. Cash says, "You gonna study tonight?" Singer just rolls the piece of fuzz between his fingers. Singer jerks, startled, when Cash drops down beside him and drapes over his back.
Cash wraps a curly lock around his finger and tugs lightly. Singer turns his head to look at him. Cash drops his hair to trace a finger down the bridge of his nose, Singer's eyes cross trying to follow the finger along its path. Cash smiles at him and asks, "What's wrong?"
Singer shakes his head, dislodging Cash's hand. "Nothing. You want to tell me about what causes tiny babies?"
"Big tobacco companies, obviously."
Singer groans and sits up to find his review book.
**
"Patrick..." Pete settles his hand low on Patrick's back and nuzzles the slightly damp hair at the back of his neck. He presses his lips to the salty skin and he can't resist letting his tongue dart out to taste.
Patrick shudders in front of him and pulls out of his grip. "No, Pete."
Pete hooks his fingers into Patrick's waistband. "Ashlee doesn't care. We talked about it, Patrick."
"I can't. I'm your daughter's doctor." Patrick turns around to face him and Pete can't help smiling down into his earnest little face.
"And she loves you, can't wait to see you even though it usually means shots from the mean nurses." Pete rubs his thumb over Patrick's sideburns. "We're not tearing anything apart in this room, Patrick. I love my daughter, I love my wife and I love you. See, enough love for everyone. Patrick." Pete leans down to suck Patrick's plump bottom lip into his mouth before slipping his tongue inside.
Patrick stands stock still for a minute before giving in and kissing back, hands sliding up into Pete's coarse black hair. Pete crowds him back against his desk and thanks whoever's listening for Patrick's obsessive compulsive ways, because the desk is free of clutter and it's the easiest thing in the world to coax Patrick up on the hard wood surface and sink down on his knees for him. Patrick looks down at him with pupils blow wide and Pete just wants.
He unbuttons Patrick's khaki slacks, pulls his striped blue shirt out of his pants, tugs down his zipper and slides his hand into Patrick's boxers. Patrick is hot against his palm and Pete pulls him out into the open air and licks the bead of precome from Patrick's cockhead.
"Ahhhhh," Patrick's hands move to cradle the back of Pete's head and Pete doesn't resist at all when Patrick pulls him forward.
**
Cash rolls his chair back and forth, wrapping surgical sutures around his fingers absently. The labor board is completely clean; the last scheduled c-section was hours ago. "You know," Cash bites his lip as one of the strings slips free from his gloved fingers, "Dr. Urie is hot. Kind of makes me look forward to working with the kiddies."
Singer mutters, "Sniffing after Dr. Urie's ass.'
Marshall shushes them both, because more often than not Cash fails to take his surroundings into consideration and goads Singer into running off at the mouth with him.
"And what a fine ass it is," Cash interjects loudly. "Dr. Smith has got to be made of stone or in love with some other guy to not want to tap that. If I had a friend that was into me and looked that hot, I would be trying to hit it all the time, all over the place."
Marshall feels like poking his eyes out or better yet, poking Cash's eyes out. It's becoming more painful by the day to be around Cash and Singer, mostly because of Cash's oblivious assholery. Marshall wants to tell Singer to just move on, beg him to, but he doesn't think that will go over so well. So, yeah, stuck holding his tongue.
Singer's knuckles are white, gripping the book he has his head buried in, but Cash has finally fallen silent. Marshall glances at Cash out the corner of his eyes to find him watching Singer with a confused expression. He notices Marshall watching and his default cockiness slides back into place. Marshall just shakes his head and leans back in his own chair. Ian was wearing scrubs that were tighter than normal at lunch and Marshall appreciated the view, really appreciated the view. He shifts lower in his seat and spreads his legs. Ian hates having to wear his hair back in a ponytail, has threatened to cut it, but Marshall likes it. He likes it so much that he dreams about it at night, wants to pull Ian's head back and bite at his throat.
"You're totally over there picturing Ian naked, aren't you?"
Marshall snaps back into himself and almost falls on the floor. Cash gives his hyena laugh and even Singer is smiling a little bit.
Marshall counts it as a win.
**
"I miss you." Jon slides into the booth beside Ryan and Ryan closes his book.
Ryan shakes his head. "I thought you were through with me."
Jon steals a fry off of Ryan's tray. He pops the potato strip into his mouth but his brown eyes are completely serious. "I could never be through with you; you're under my skin." He repeats, "I miss you," and Ryan wants to lean against him. He misses Jon, too.
He shrugs. "We're still in the same place." Ryan taps his fingers nervously against the table and Jon places his hand on top of his.
Jon sighs. "Ryan..." He pauses, "we have a couple of years left; I understand you don't want to be pushed into a decision right now." Ryan snorts derisively, but Jon ignores him. "I understand that you've never been apart, always just a stone's throw from each other. Hell, you waited a whole year so that you could start medical school together. I get it, okay. Spencer is important to you, but I was kind of hoping that I was important to you."
"You were; you are." Ryan fidgets with the bracelets around his wrists. "I don't understand why you can't just accept a job here. It's a good program and the attendings love you." Ryan has a job offer at the hospital; Spencer and Brendon have been offered positions.
"Ryan, you know I have to go back to Chicago." Jon dips his head. "I want you to come with me. Please, come with me. I don't want to do this without you."
But I will. Ryan hears the unspoken. He wants to be with Jon, wants to pack up what little he has here and follow him back to his home. It would be easy enough. Every hospital wants an extra anesthesiologist on staff. But Ryan can't pack up Spencer and put him in his pocket.
"Jon..." Ryan looks into his earnest brown eyes and Jon pulls him forward for a quick kiss.
"Am I interrupting something?"
Ryan pulls back to find Spencer staring down at him with quizzical blue eyes. Ryan says, "No, of course not."
"Of course not," Jon echoes.
"Guys, what's going on?" Brendon scoots around Spencer and into the opposite side of the booth.
Jon sits back. "Nothing, just getting some lunch with friends."
Brendon looks back and forth between the three of them and says slowly, "Okay."
Spencer turns on his heel and stalks off to get something to eat. Ryan picks at his food a little and Brendon talks to fill the tense silence. Jon relaxes by Ryan's side degree by degree and laughs with Brendon about the overbearing parents on the pediatrics ward.
"Spencer." Brendon beams at Spencer when he returns to the table and Ryan wonders if he's the problem in that relationship, also. Wonders if he's holding Spencer back from taking things with Brendon to the next level with his neediness.
He's too afraid to ask.
Jon bumps his shoulder into his and tilts his head toward Jon's without thinking about it, the way he used to do when they first started seeing each other, in the new couple phase.
Jon squeezes his knee under the table.
**
"Frank wanted to me to ask you should he be worried about your new found love of surgeons?" Mikey continues to peck at his phone.
Gerard can feel his cheeks heating up. "What new found love of surgeons?"
Mikey gives him an unimpressed look. "Gee, everyone knows you're stalking Dr. Ballato. Frank's pretty pissed about it."
"He didn't seem to care when I was stalking him."
"He was playing hard to get. He didn't think you'd give up and start stalking someone else. Seriously, though, Gee. That woman's kind of scary."
Gerard takes a drag off of his cigarette. "I like scary."
**
"I'm beginning to think that something more than just incorrect formula mixing is going on here." Dr. Stump frowns down at the little baby staring back up at him briefly before making a face at the tiny girl. He waves his stethoscope in front of the baby's face before placing it on her chest to listen for heart abnormalities. The baby tracks the movement but makes no move to reach out and grab the instrument.
Dr. Stump says, "What are some reasons that a baby might fail to thrive besides malnutrition?"
Ian pipes up first because baby Benson is his patient. He says, "Problem with malabsorption."
"What specifically might be causing this baby to have problems absorbing her formula?" Dr. Stump quizzes.
"Around 85% of African Americans are lactose intolerant."
"Mmmmhmmm." Patrick places his stethoscope back around his neck. "Go on."
"Some metabolic process."
"Structural abnormality."
"Hyperthyroidism."
Dr. Stump turns the baby over on her stomach and watches for her to turn over; she just stays there, limp and fussy. He picks her up and hands her back to her aunt. The mother has been absent more times than not during morning rounds. Ian watches closely as he taps his chin. Dr. Stump says, "Let's get T cell counts on this little one. Something's going on here."
Ian makes a note to look for the test results in the morning.
They move on to the next patient; this time Johnson's presenting and Ian is trying to hide his smile, because hearing Johnson talk about baby poop never fails to strike him as hilarious. Johnson's patient is a two year old with a firm grasp of the word no. The little boy is on his way out with only a couple of more days of treatment and he spends more time in the playroom than the hospital bed.
Dr. Stump asks a few questions but he seems preoccupied by the little girl up the hall. He wraps rounds up quicker than usual and disappears off the ward to consult with the immunology department head.
Dr. Urie grins at them. "You guys did a good job. What else do you have to do today?"
Ian looks at Johnson and he shrugs back at him. Ian says, "We don't have anything else scheduled for the rest of the day.'
Dr. Urie nods. "Why don't you just go grab some lunch and don't come back."
Johnson asks, "Are you sure?" and Dr. Urie nods.
Ian says, "Thanks," before Johnson can get them roped into doing busy work.
They head back to the consultation room and grab their books.
They walk toward the stadium parking in silence until Johnson says, "Are you going to say something to Marshall?"
Ian stumbles over an imaginary rock on the sidewalk. "Excuse me?"
"Singer and Marshall aren't going to wait around forever. They might end up together if you and Cash keep playing games."
"I'm not playing games." Ian hefts his book bag more securely on his shoulder. "I just don't know what he'll say."
Johnson shoots him an unimpressed look. "He's going to say yes, man. I would be surprised if he didn't blow you on the spot, the way he was looking at your ass in those too-little scrubs the other day."
Ian punches his arm and doesn't say anything in return.
**
"What's wrong?" Spencer snaps his book closed and pierces Ryan with a look that demands he spill his soul.
Ryan stretches his legs leisurely and turns his head until he can stare up at Spencer from his lap. "Why do you keep ignoring Brendon's advances?"
Spencer breaks eye contact, cheekbones flushing pink. "Advances, really, Ryan. I asked what was bothering you; don't try to distract me."
"Maybe that is what's bothering me. I don't want you to be alone, Spencer." Because of me.
"Is this about Jon?" Spencer cards a hand through Ryan's hair, brushing it off his forehead.
Ryan pushes up into the touch like a cat. "It's just I've never pictured my future without you in it."
Spencer huffs a laugh. "I'll always be there, Ryan, even if we're not in each other's pocket."
"You're going to stay here, aren't you? With Brendon?"
"I..." Spencer looks at the ceiling. "I think I will. Have you decided?" He asks the question without weight, waiting without judgment.
Ryan still hesitates, still rolls it around on his tongue. "I think I have."
Spencer tugs on the end of a lock of hair. "You know where you need to be."
Ryan knows where he needs to be. "I like Brendon."
Spencer laughs. "I know. I like Jon, too. I like him better when you're making each other happy instead of sad and silly."
"I'm going to talk to him."
"Good." Spencer opens his book back up and Ryan pokes it when it comes too close to his nose.
**
"You know that shit is against the rules." Cash's voice is full of enough venom to kill two grown men.
Singer just rolls his eyes and asks, "What shit, Cash?" It must be something awfully horrible to get Cash harping on rules.
Cash throws his books down on the worn couch in the student lounge and whirls around to face Singer, hands flying in the air. "I don't like the way he touches you!"
"Who touches me?" Singer has somehow lost the thread of the conversation; hell, he never had it.
Cash shakes a furious finger in his face. "Dr. Brown! He has his hands all over your hair all the time. And what the hell was the deal with him putting his arms around you this morning?"
"Dr. Brown?" Then the light dawns. "You're jealous of Dr. Brown." Singer's eyes are wide.
"I'm not fucking jealous of Dr. Brown. I just don't want you to be that one whore on rotation that fucks all the residents."
Singer scowls. Fuck Cash and fuck this. He pokes Cash in the chest. "What the fuck business is it of yours who I fuck? I might get down on my knees for him just to make sure I get an A on this rotation."
Cash's face flushes an ugly purple and he slaps Singer's hand away. "You wouldn't know what to do on your knees, because no one has ever wanted you enough to ask you for it."
Singer punches him in his damn hurtful mouth before he even has a chance to think about swinging. He stumbles away before Cash can do more than bring his own hand up to his face. "You don't know a damn thing about me, Cash Colligan, but trust me when I say that I'll fuck every resident in this hospital before I get on my knees for you." He yanks the door open and walks out, thankful that he never took off his bag. He takes out his phone and punches the first number he can remember.
"Hello?"
"Umm, Ian, it's me."
Ian says, "Dude, I know. Is something wrong?"
Singer takes a deep breath. "Can you meet me in the women's hospital cafe?"
"Sure thing, man." Ian hangs up the phone.
Singer wipes a hand over his face and starts walking to the hospital cafe.
**
When Marshall comes back from the Registrar's office to find Cash sitting alone at the sign out board, he figures something has happened. "Where's Singer?" he asks the back of Cash's head. Cash turns around to look at him and Marshall's eyes get wide. "Who punched you in the mouth, dude?"
Cash shrugs angrily. "Who do you think?"
"Singer?" Marshall can't even begin to wrap his head around that one or maybe he can. He sighs. "What did you say?"
"I just wanted him to stop acting like a whore for Dr. Brown."
Marshall slaps his own head. "You are so stupid." Cash goes to open his mouth and Marshall cuts him off. "You didn't mind it when he was acting like a whore for you."
"Singer is not a whore," Cash hisses, "don't call him that."
"But it's okay for you to call him that?" Marshall shakes his head before moving closer to get a better look at Cash's busted lip. "He socked you good, didn't he? I hope you've been using this time to figure out how to apologize to him."
Cash shrugs again sullenly. They both look up as Dr. Smith asks, "What happened to your mouth? Where is Singer?"
**
Ian says, "Of course, you can stay with us for the night, man. You know you're always welcome." Johnson nods along because Dr. Urie had let both of them go check on Singer, not just Ian.
"Cash was way out of line." Johnson's mouth quirks to the side. "I hope you hit him hard, not some sissy slap."
Singer remembers the look of shock on Cash's face, the blood at his mouth and feels guilty for a second, even though Cash totally deserved it. "I have to go back to L&D."
Ian glances at Singer's down turned face and asks, "Do you want me to talk to Dr. Urie, see if he can get Dr. Smith to give you the rest of the day off?"
Singer pushes his ice cream around his bowl. "Do you think that he can? I mean I don't want to start anything, but I'd really rather not have to deal with Cash anymore today."
"I'm sure Dr. Urie can get you the afternoon off. He claims he has Smith wrapped around his finger."
Singer smiles at the thought of Dr. Smith wrapped around anyone's finger and gets up to follow Ian and Johnson to the pediatrics department. He wonders what Cash is doing now, what he told Marshall about his mouth.
Dr. Urie is a tiny bundle of hotness and he gives Singer big, sympathetic eyes when Ian explains the situation with minimal embellishment. He says, "Sure, I'll go down and talk to Spencer with you." Ian grins over his shoulder at Singer.
The elevator ride down is quick and Dr. Urie smiles at all the tittering nurses while they page Dr. Smith for him. Dr. Smith lifts an eyebrow to see Singer hanging behind Dr. Urie's shoulder. "Why do you have one of my students, Brendon?"
Dr. Urie grabs his wrist and tugs him in a corner to explain. Singer stands by the nurse's station awkwardly and watches as Dr. Urie leans in close and touches Dr. Smith's chest. Dr. Smith's expression softens when Dr. Urie pouts at him and he nods his head briefly gaining a brilliant grin before Dr. Urie makes his way back to Singer.
Dr. Urie says, "Singer, you can spend the rest of the day with me and Johnson and Ian is going to hang out down here."
**
Marshall forgets all about Cash's drama when Ian steps into view. "Ian," he breathes like some dime store heroine and immediately feels like an idiot, but Ian just smiles at him and pulls up a chair.
"Marshall," Ian says and Marshall wants to pull his ponytail so badly. Cash is currently in a c-section, so there's nothing for them to do for a while.
"Don't try to choke Cash or anything, man. He feels bad enough as it is and Singer really got him good."
Ian tips his head back. "Singer is staying with us tonight."
"Huh." Marshall guesses that's a good thing, give them both some time to cool off, but he doesn't want the two of them to go too long without speaking. Singer can hold on to a grudge just as long as he's held on to his crush on Cash and Cash is just a stubborn asshole. "How's Peds?"
"Dr. Urie is pretty much awesome and Dr. Stump is only scary until you get to know him better." Ian tilts his head thoughtfully and Marshall can hear his ponytail swish across his back. "You need to know your stuff though."
"OB is cool; the residents are a bit intimidating but everyone's really fair." Marshall leans forward. "So, Dr. Urie is totally into Dr. Smith, huh?"
Ian smiles at him. "Totally."
Marshall looks around furtively, then says, "That would be hot."
Ian nods in agreement. "Totally."
**
Singer punches the lumpy pillow Ian gave him and turns over irritably on the floor. Fuck Cash and his stupidity. There are tons of people in the world that want to see him on his knees, want to get down on their knees for him. He flops over onto his back. Dr. Brown wants to stick his dick in Singer's mouth. He thinks about the resident's hand resting low on his back. At the time, it seemed totally innocent, but maybe he can see where Cash was coming from.
He scowls. He's not going to talk himself into forgiving Cash that easily. Cash is an asshole, an asshole that flat out said that no one would ever want to fuck Singer. He huffs and punches his pillow again.
"Dude, I can hear you tossing and turning from the bedroom."
Singer looks up and Ian's standing over him. He pouts up at him until he sighs and folds down to sit on the floor beside him. Singer sits up in his mess of blankets. "Ian, you'd let me suck your dick, wouldn't you?"
Ian holds his hands up, startled. "Whoa, man, you know I'm into getting my cock sucked, but," he shrugs, "Marshall." Singer had maybe forgotten about Marshall. He sighs and picks at a loose thread on the blanket. Ian says, "But if not for that, I would totally let you suck me off." Singer gives him a quick smile before picking at the blanket some more. "You know Cash didn't mean any of that, right?" Ian's giving him an earnest look.
Singer's not so sure. He shrugs his shoulders and when Ian pulls him close, he snuggles in. Ian has his hair down and it's standing up all over his head, enjoying the freedom. Ian squeezes his shoulder. "Do you want me to tell you in extreme detail what I want to do to Marshall?" Singer shrugs again just to be difficult and Ian starts talking.
He says, "You can't tell him this, because this is what I want to do to him, not what I'm going to do, because I'm a gentleman." Singer hides his eye roll against Ian's side. "You know how Marshall walks around all pretty and shit like he doesn't know what he's doing to you?" Singer did not know that. "I just want to trap him in a corner and shove my dick in his mouth."
Singer sits up so he can get a better look at Ian's face. Ian's expression is sort of dreamy. Singer pokes him in the side. "You've been watching too much internet porn. Marshall is going to bite your dick off."
Ian smiles at him and ruffles his hair. "I'm going to jerk off while the memory is fresh." He stands up and disappears into his bedroom. Singer settles back down and drifts off to sleep, thinking about what he wants to do to Cash.
**
Jon's hair is standing up all over his head, stubble lining his cheeks. He blinks blearily at Ryan in the early morning light and leans his shoulder against the door frame. "Here to fuck and run again?" It's barely a question; Jon's tone is so dry.
Ryan winces because he's been guilty of that in the past during the time they were fighting about everything and nothing under the sun. They had fucked like it was the answer to life; it hadn't been. Ryan shifts his weight nervously and asks, "May I come in?"
Jon falls back silently, letting Ryan enter the apartment. He offers Ryan an old slice of pizza, but Ryan refuses because he's nauseous enough as it is. Jon's just waiting, waiting for him to get to the point. Ryan takes a deep breath. "I want to be with you, go with you." Jon doesn't react the way Ryan expects him to. Jon stays still, quiet. He doesn't smile, doesn't rush over and pull Ryan into his arms. Ryan breaks first. "Say something please."
"What about Spencer?" Jon's still holding himself apart.
"Spencer understands. He's still going to stay here with Brendon."
Jon straightens and it's like a wall has fallen. Ryan moves into his arms and Jon strokes his hair, turning his head to whisper, "I love you. I'm glad you're coming with me." He kisses Ryan softly, stubble scratching his cheeks and Ryan clings to him happy to have Jon back into his arms.
**
Marshall's pretty sure that he has never been happier to be heading back to his single bedroom apartment. The atmosphere at work had been chilly enough for the resident's to take notice. To make matters worse, Dr. Brown had helpfully made his sympathetic shoulder available to Singer. Cash's face turned purple with fury; Marshall thought he was going to stroke out.
He kicks his shoes off just inside the door and wiggles his toes in his socks. He's just started winding down when his cell phone rings interrupting his light doze. It's Ian.
"Hey."
Ian doesn't return his greeting, just says, "Can I come over?"
The "Sure" is escaping Marshall's mouth before he has time to think about it.
"I'll be right over." Ian cuts the connection.
Marshall doesn't panic, doesn't run and jump in the shower. He simply flops back down on his second hand couch and waits. The time between the end of the phone call and the doorbell ringing seems incredibly short. He rolls off the sofa and trudges to the door. Ian's standing there in jeans and a t-shirt, hair still damp and maybe Marshall should have jumped in the shower. Ian smiles at him and he smiles back and they're standing there grinning at each other stupidly until Ian says, "Can I come in?"
Marshall rolls his eyes, "Of course." He pulls Ian through the door; Ian follows easily without any resistance at all. Marshall closes, locks the door and turns around to find Ian crowding him against the wall to the side of the door.
Ian says, "Hi," and Marshall returns his greeting breathlessly. Ian brushes his bang out of his eyes. "Are we doing this?"
Marshall nods his head because they are so doing this. Ian flashes him another quick smile before leaning in to kiss him. He wraps his arms around Ian's neck and opens his mouth to deepen the kiss.
Ian kisses Marshall until he's hard and trying to wrap one leg around Ian's waist. Ian laughs into his mouth and pushes his leg down; Marshall whines and clutches at him as Ian pulls away from him, but he starts making noise for an entirely different reason when Ian drops to his knees in front of him.
"Oh." Marshall's head hits the wall when Ian tugs down his scrub pants.
Ian peeks up at him. "I'm glad you didn't change."
Marshall's glad too. The tv is on, but Marshall can barely hear it over the noise in his head. His hips push forward when Ian licks a stripe up the underside of his dick. Ian wraps his hands around Marshall's hips and sucks the head into his mouth. He presses Marshall back as he works slowly down the shaft, tongue swirling.
Marshall gives up on politeness and sinks his fingers into Ian's hair. Ian just hums and takes him deeper. "Uh, uhhhh." The grip Marshall has on Ian's head makes it impossible for Ian to pull back when he starts to come. The sensation of Ian swallowing just pushes him higher.
Ian doesn't let him fall when his knees give out; he eases him to the floor and kisses him. Marshall tastes his own come but he doesn't think about it too much, because he's too busy trying to replace his taste with Ian's.
**
"What's up with Ryan?" Brendon flops down on the couch, more on top of Spencer than beside him. A bowl of popcorn is resting on the table in front of them. Ryan's at Jon's place and Brendon's invited himself over to watch movies.
Spencer shifts until he's comfortable and says, "He's going to follow Jon."
Brendon's silent for a long moment before he asks quietly, "Are you going to follow Ryan?" Brendon's already committed to the main hospital, has been committed from day one when he accepted a full scholarship from the university.
Spencer cards his fingers through Brendon's hair. "No, I'm pretty sure I'll be staying here if they'll have me."
Brendon turns his face into Spencer's neck and takes a deep breath. The tension leeches from his body when he exhales. He says, "They would be crazy not to want you."
Spencer presses a kiss to the top of Brendon's messy hair and hits play.
**
Cash's head snaps up from the book he's pretending to read when Singer steps inside the apartment, closes and locks the door behind him. Singer drops his own head and mutters, "Not now, Cash." Cash ignores him like every other time that Singer has ever opened his mouth and jumps off the couch and into his face.
"Not staying with Ian tonight?" Cash doesn't let him go around him. He grabs Singer's arms. "I let you get away with ignoring me all day. Talk to me already." He shakes Singer a little.
Singer lets out a tired breath and tips his head back to look into Cash's irate eyes. "What do you want me to say, Cash? Hasn't it all been said? I hear you; I understand, okay? You think I'm a stupid, little boy that no one's ever going to want. What else is there to talk about? Do you to give me a swift kick in the balls to physically top off the verbal beat down?"
Cash's grip has changed from restraining to simply there; his mouth is hanging open and his eyes are wide. "I--I," His mouth snaps shut and his eyebrows draw together over his bright eyes. He bursts out abruptly, "What the hell are you talking about?" and Singer flinches back from him. Cash scowls at the protective movement and insists, "I just didn't want you to fall for that dick's lines. You're better than that."
Singer throws up his hands in exasperation, knocking Cash's aside. He's ready to be through with this conversation, ready to move on with his life. "Why do you even care, Cash? At least he wants me."
"I want you!" Cash shouts, face flushed red.
The clock ticks loudly in the sudden silence and Singer blinks stupidly. "What?"
"I want you," Cash repeats and this time he sounds desperate instead of angry. He steps closer to Singer, hand brushing an errant curl out of his face. "I want you; I-"
Singer kisses him and Cash immediately kisses back, mouth hard and anxious against Singer's. Singer jerks in surprise when Cash bites his lower lip and Cash gentles his touch just slightly, hands sliding beneath Singer's scrub top, bumping up over his abs, finding his nipples. Singer squirms and Cash grins against his mouth.
The carpet is rough beneath his shoulders after Cash pulls him to the floor and tugs his shirt over his head. His legs fall open naturally around Cash's hips and he gasps when Cash thrusts down against him. He says, "Wait, wait," because there is no way he's going to come in his hospital issued scrubs. Cash growls at Singer's efforts to push him back, but quickly gets with the program once he realizes that Singers trying to get rid of his pants. He helps Singer with his pants and makes quick work of his own clothes.
It doesn't seem like Cash has any sort of plan. He abandons Singer's mouth to bite the sharp point of his hipbone. Cash sucks the head of Singer's cock into his mouth just long enough to make him arch before sitting back on his knees, leaving Singer grasping at air. Cash says, "We don't have anything," and it takes Singer longer than it should to figure out what he means.
Singer doesn't want to stop, doesn't want to pause for long enough for him to come back to his senses. He groans, still reaching for Cash. "Can't you, can't we..." He gives up trying to articulate his thoughts, frustrated.
Cash is staring at him, eyes darting from his mouth to his cock, to the way Singer's legs are still spread. He says, "Yeah, we can," and dips his head back down to lick at the base of Singer's dick. Despite what Cash thinks, Singer has had his dick sucked before, but it had never made Singer want to just give up all control and go for it. He kind of really wants to hold Cash by his ears and fuck his throat. Man, he's been spending too much time with Ian. Cash hums around his mouthful and all thoughts of Ian fly out of Singer's head. He pants, throat feeling raw like he's the one on his knees. "Cash," he tries to warn, but Cash doesn't move back just tightens his grip on Singer's hips. His fingers slide over Cash's head, unable to find purchase in his too short hair as Singer comes down his throat. He can feel Cash swallow at the end before he lets Singer fall out of his mouth and he shudders at the aftershock.
He can hear Cash dragging in rough gulps of air, but he's too gone to open his eyes to look at him. Cash moves up his body, bites his neck just beneath his ear. "I would really, really like to see you on your knees for me," he whispers and pushes his cock into the crease where thigh meets torso. "Like now."
Singer smiles at the desperation in Cash's voice and finds the strength to flip him over onto his back. Cash isn't exactly fighting him and when Singer licks wetly over Cash's cockhead, he makes the sweetest sound that Singer has ever heard.