A/N This an abridged version of my original, for the rating. There is a longer sex scene cut from the end. If you want to read the full version, it can be found here: http://kiwi-ficjournal. NC-17 rating. In total, there are only about 200 words difference.
Warnings: Spoilers for episode 5x20 "My Lunch" and possible connotations of non-con.
Reticent
Oh, God. It echoed in JD's head, it had been reverberating through him for hours. When Dr Cox had whispered those words to the bleeping pager, for a moment everything was frozen. It was just wrong; it was…JD had been fairly certain this was not how life was supposed to be. God with a capital G, he could see it written in his head. The God, the one Dr Cox either doesn't believe in or hates. He didn't answer. He's wasn't listening, or the feelings between him and Perry are mutual. Or he's just not there, but there are reasons JD became a doctor and not a philosopher and avoiding questions like this is one of them.
But as JD found himself with his hand poised to knock on the door, he wondered if his time would be better spent contemplating these things by himself. Oh, God. He knocked once.
"Dr Cox?" JD knocked again. He imagined a gruff, "Fuck off," drifting through the wooden door, but wasn't certain. "Dr Cox? Will you let me in?"
"Fuck off."
JD definitely heard it that time. Banging on the door, he said, "I drove across town after a twelve hour shift. Me and Sasha are exhausted. Open the door." Slumping against the door jam, he awaited a stream of curses. Instead, there was silence, and JD was about to walk away, give up and go home when he heard a click and the door swung open.
He paused in the open doorway. Dr Cox has already made it back to the couch and his glass of scotch. JD wondered why he bothered bringing beer. Almost scared, he tried to fix eye contact, but the blood-shot, dead stare went right through him. The image of Dr Cox looking like a broken child was something JD had hoped he wouldn't have to see. He pushed the door shut behind him, and it swung on its hinges with a squeak. JD didn't move.
Oh, God.
JD's feet were itching, but he didn't know how to move, besides letting his fingers twitch nervously. There was a thick silence in the air and the stillness of a grave yard. They both had beating hearts, but damn if they were alive at that moment. They were just there, waiting for it to fall into something one of them knew how to react to.
JD set his helmet on a small table to his right. The sound of plastic on wood filled the apartment; Jordan must be out. He probably hasn't even told her yet. JD kept hold of the beer. The condensation on the glass was covering his finger tips in a chill. A metal top bit into his skin.
Oh, God.
There was some resolute defiance in the way Dr Cox tosses back his scotch, JD thought. Like he's wilfully tearing himself down and JD has to watch as punishment. Another glass. The gentle clang on glass on glass.
Oh God.
Punishment for what? Helping? Caring? Showing up like he has any right to be there? The silence remained but JD's mind was racing.
Oh, God.
How many people was he going to lose today?
Oh, God.
"Just tell me what to do." JD didn't mean to shout, but once he started talking the words got away from him.
"I don't know," said Cox, in barely a whisper. "Hard fact of life: no one does."
"So, you figure you might as well do anything? Damn the consequences?" He didn't mean to shout, he really didn't.
"So I can't take one night to drown my sorrows without needing an intervention?"
"You just, you walked out! You left."
Dr Cox slapped on a drunken grin, "Well, what does one day matter?" He dragged himself to his feet and waved towards the door. "You can leave now."
"Do you see what you're doing?" JD felt his voice cracking. "Do you want to turn into your father? Is that what you want for Jack?"
"Get out." Dr Cox took hold of JD's arm and pushed him towards the door. His grip was tight; there would be bruising. "Get out now."
"Alcoholic, abusive, what else are you going to add to the list?"
Oh, God.
JD slammed into the wood-panelled door and he felt the collision on his shoulder blades and through his back. It was jolting; the air was knocked from his lungs. He could feel Dr Cox force his tongue into his mouth, feel the stubble grating against face. He either said no or thought it, but he honestly can't tell which anymore. He didn't understand why his mind was retreating from the scene while his hand twisted in Dr Cox's t-shirt and his body arched forward.
Oh, God.
Dr Cox, always Dr Cox in JD's mind. Mentor. Guiding hand.
Oh, God.
JD clenched his hands on Dr Cox's hips, sliding inside his sweatpants. His nails grated over the skin. Not moving his body, JD stayed pressed against him, as they kissed fiercely. It was a pattern of pulling away and attacking again, crushing lips and clashing teeth. But he wouldn't let go. He was not going to let go.
Oh, God.
Teacher. Student. Guidance. Father. Son. Friend.
Oh, God.
"Clean yourself up," Dr Cox murmured.
JD gratefully took the tissue he was holding out. Looking down, he saw he had dropped the beer. There was broken glass on the carpet and the liquid was beginning to seep away. He zipped up his fly and straightened his shirt, and looked into the middle distance. He could see Dr Cox in the corner of his vision, but couldn't take looking directly at him.
"You'd better go now."
"Yeah, yeah," JD replied quietly. He picked up his helmet and it hung loosely from his hand.
"Newbie," Dr Cox said, just as he JD was turning the door handle. "I am not my father. And you don't have to be me."