y'all wanted smut... and I bring you, some suggestive(?) content.
I was very much inspired by Grey's Anatomy and this PJO fic I read on AO3 called A Predicament of Time by writergirl8.

[btw: I headcanon Gunther as half Indian, which is can be plausible if you read up on his mom's supposed background and take some history into account.]

Disclaimer: I don't own any characters presented here

Gunther Breech knew that his surgical residency would not be a bundle of fun, but this is just absurd, frankly. The forty-eight hour shifts full of scut work: dealing with patients, getting their labs, samples, tests and not with patients, he studies and when he is not studying, he sleeps. All this work, for what, a run-of-the-mill appendectomy? Was running on three hours sleep each night for months just to get to scrub in worth it?

Then again, he did sign up for it. Jane was, a surprise to be sure, but a welcome one that made the shifts bearable. However, there is a more pressing issue. He is tired all the time.

And yes, he is quite well aware that his eventual attending status as a neurosurgeon is very much worth it, even though all the joy was being sucked out of his present life faster than his own vacuum cleaner, but it's still a bit frustrating. He misses things that he used to be able to do before he had entered the residency program, free time and the lack of need to write in everything he does in his schedule. He has no free time. The small moments of reprieve are spent catching up: on sleeping, eating and cleaning. Even with Jane. They spend their time catching up on what the other did throughout the day, exchanging the hospital gossip and rumors, and their cases. But, they don't have time to create new memories. Gunther misses going out with his friends—more of Jane's than his, to be honest—and most importantly, he never gets to spend time with Jane. He can't remember the last date they even went fact that Gunther was about to resort to actually penning in sex to their schedule was ridiculous.

To be fair, they live together, much to Adeline Turnkey's great disapproval. They get to spend some time together. Some mornings, every other lunch, and nighttime. always goes to bed late. Silently, each night he sneaks into their bed as she sleeps; as she breathes he molds his body around her form. Their legs tangle through the night and for one moment, they are whole. It is Jane, Gunther, and her orange cat, Dragon all curled together asleep for a few hours. Yet, he can't help but feel a bit empty when he wakes up in the early morning alone with Dragon. Jane leaves even before he does to get her hands on the best cases before anyone can, including him.

He just couldn't wait until they finally got their new apartment. They could finally cut down weekend hours and overtime and sleep in. The current apartment was Jane's to which Gunther moved into. Economically it made sense, but aesthetically? realistically? A new apartment was duly warranted.

Tonight, a Wednesday of all nights, Gunther was ecstatic. This was the first day in months when he gets home before 7:00 p.m.! Scratch that, before 6:00 p.m.! His mood was barely tarnished by the fact that Jane would not be arriving for at least another hour due to a last minute catheter ablation with the attending, Dr. Theodore. Gunther's normal jealousy at the chance to scrub-in was squashed by the date night opportunity presented.

Apparently, the universe just didn't want them to go out, not tonight at least. Gunther refused to believe that.

Gunther let himself into their tiny and only moderately shitty apartment. It may always reek of weed, thanks to the wonderful new neighbors, and have cardboard-thin walls, it was theirs. It also helped that it was on the red line, which was five train stops away from the Kipper Hospital and only a mere 68.25 miles away from his father.

Gunther has plans for making dinner, well had. In his haste to get home, he forgot to pick up groceries for dinner. He checked their bank account on his phone. 'Take-out tonight means no lunch tomorrow if we can move in a month.'

"Well, shit."

Gunther scanned the fridge. There is: one bottle of wine, (cheap, but effective) a small mountain of cat food cans, some onions, tomatoes, green chilies, yogurt and oatmeal. The cabinets only have cereal, beans, lentils, coffee and bread. Gunther opened the fridge again, hoping that some chicken would suddenly appear. It didn't. As Gunther wallowed in his lack of chicken summoning abilities, Dragon padded in, sat next to Gunther and looked at the fridge with him.

"I don't suppose Jane and I could feast on, " he grabbed a can, "Flaked Skipjack Tuna & Wild Salmon, now could we?"

He only got a warbling meow in reply.

"I know, just because we are starving doesn't mean you must as well."

Dragon only looked up at him with unblinking yellow eyes.

"Alright!"

Gunther fed Dragon and began to tidy the place up a bit, thinking of what they could eat. 'Is it too much that we go on a dinner and have sex in one night?' They seemed trapped between going out for dinner and sleeping or sleeping together and sleeping. There was never both—they were always too tired by that time.

But tonight, Gunther was determined to change that.

An hour later, Gunther had the apartment tidied, the laundry underway, and the moong dal khichdi was cooking. (Gunther wanted to personally bless rice and lentils for existing, along with pressure cookers.) He set up their dining table to look straight out of a restaurant. And it did, albeit a slightly janky, classy restaurant. His makeshift table had a clear plastic bowl of bread, matching plates with mismatched glasses all on a red blanket. Gunther made a note to buy tablecloths in the future.

"Now if it didn't smell so loud, I might have confused our apartment for Prasino."

Jane was leaning in the doorway to the kitchen. She moved so silently sometimes. She smiled as she held her nose. The smell of the neighbors,' ehem, activates was the only thing that got to her. She must have been in a hurry to leave, her button-up shirt was untucked and her bright red hair left up in what she dubbed her "scrub-do." (Her curls did not just do a normal ponytail, and needed to be braided and pinned up.) Dragon purred against her right leg as Jane emptied her wallet and keys into a bowl. She still had her crocs on. 'She was in a big hurry then.'

"Hey, I wasn't the one who insisted on being on the red line. My old place—"

"—was, yes much less dank and an hour away." She finished for him, smirking as her green eye sparkled.

"Now, is this any way to greet your loving, caring, boyfriend that, not only cleaned up the kitchen and bedroom, but also did the laundry and made a dinner that rivals Pepper's?" He said in mock grief and gave her his best sad, puppy dog eyes, before he turns back to pour some wine.

"No, you have a point," She moved to hug him from behind. He felt her raise up on her tip-toes and kiss the base of neck before resting her head on his shoulder blade. They couldn't see the other, but they both smiled. He could stay like this forever.

"What are you doing, Beefbrain?" she asked breaking the silence.

"I should hope you, in about two hours." Jane scoffed, slapped him on the arm and reached for her glass of wine.

"This early with the foreplay? Jane!" She only shoots him a glare upon Gunther's mischievous grin. "We haven't dined yet!" She rolled her eyes as she sipped her wine. He turned to face her, "I don't put out for nothing, really Jane, I expect more of you."

"Gunther, that is ridiculous coming from you." He made a noncommittal noise and shrugged.

"Maybe so, but you never turned me down," he smirked.

Her stomach growled loudly then, putting a bit of a damper on the mood Gunther was building.

"Dinnertime I take it?"

"Please," Jane enthusiastically said, all but yanking the pressure cooker towards herself.

Once the two were settled in, plates full of food and the wine half gone, Gunther yawned before he took his first bite. Startled by the prospect of being too tired for sex he stood up to make coffee. He reached for the filters when Jane remembered what the prospect of coming home to her boyfriend cooking her a meal and cleaning caused her to forget:

"Oh! I forgot to tell you, I saw the OR whiteboard before I left. Dr. McKay has you on his service for a Craniotomy tomorrow. Coffee is, not the best idea." She held her knife in the air, letting her hand jitter as an example of what could happen. 'Well, there goes that plan of chugging coffee and setting the mood.' Gunther sat back down. Mentally cursing his luck. When he finally gets an opportunity to scrub in on something interesting at such an inopportune moment. He rarely got a chance to get any neurological surgeries recently and he could not afford to mess up, not when he was so close to becoming a senior resident.

"It's about time! I haven't been in the OR since last year!"

"That was a last year just over a month ago, you are so dramatic."

"But I didn't mope around and apply to ten different programs before we got our own attending cardio god."

"... We are both, ...emotional," she conceded that point to him.

"By the time we clean up anyway, do think we will both be awake enough to have sex tonight," Jane said in between two yawns. She handed him the cutlery. Gunther began to load the dishwasher. They still had to prepare food for tomorrow and finish the wine and laundry.

"We can do this, Jane," He looked at his phone, "it's not even 8:30!"

"Well the wine didn't help, it made us sleepy," Jane reminded him. "Besides, I'm tired. Raincheck for tomorrow night?"

"That's what you said last night! Do you know how long it has been?"

"…As long as it has been for me, I expect?"

"Too long Jane, Too Long." She can practically hear the capitalization of his words.

"You can always clear a spot in my google calendar..."

"Now that's just silly."

It was 9:27 p.m.. Jane and Gunther shared the small reminder of the wine—out of the bottle, glasses abandoned at this point as they sprawled in bed. The dishes were cleaned and both were in pajamas: Jane was practically swimming in Gunther's old college shirt and Gunther was only in black drawstring pants. They talked, and joked and kissed and Gunther felt so elated in that moment he thought his heart would fly out of his chest—which would be a perfect opportunity for Jane to scrub in on, he thought with a soft chuckle.

Somehow, Gunther ends up with his head on her lap and his arms around her. His eye began to close of their own volition.

It was 10:39 p.m. and both of them were asleep.

Gunther woke up with a start. They were over the covers, both still clothed—unfortunate, truly—his neck and arms hurt after being curled around and under Jane. As soon as he realized what he has not done, he extracted his arms from Jane to look at the clock. Yawning, he spotted the red glow from across the room, 2:15 a.m. 'Fuck.' He, gently but very insistently, tapped her arm, then her shoulder when she did not respond.

"Jane!" He whispered. Persistently, Gunther moved closer, his breath against her ear as he whispers, "Jane, sex?" He poked her face. Mostly asleep, Jane managed to swat at Gunther's face.

"No," Her voice slurred by sleep. " sh'leep now."

"… Sorry Jane." He hated disappointing her, especially when he promised her tonight, or rather, last night to be more precise.

"There is always tomorrow. Sleep."

Gunther kissed her forehead, wrapped himself around her, and pulled the comforter around them, like a taco. He was asleep in less than a minute.

When Gunther woke up, the sun was just barely rising. It was only Dragon and Gunther in the rumpled comforter. With a bleary gaze, Gunther saw that it was just after five on Thursday. Jane hadn't left yet; her clothes were laid out on the dresser, chosen the night before. The pale green curtains were half drawn and the bed was half made. Jane always left the room like that for him so he could wake with the sun, gently. Gunther begrudgingly got up and followed her example of making the bed. He would have to be officially up in twenty-five minutes anyway. What was the point.

Gunther repositioned the comforter, jolting Dragon awake. Dragon hissed at Gunther venomously.

"Yeah, yeah; hiss, hiss. Remember that I feed you," Gunther said as he straightened the pillows. He could hear the shower being turned on. An idea pops into Gunther's head.

" 'ello Jane!" She poked out of the shower curtain, her hair all piled on her head with shampoo running down her neck. Gunther gulped.

"Well, I don't think I've ever seen you up this early. Good morning." How she can be so bright and chipper without a sip of coffee is a mystery to Gunther. He used the toilet, washed his hands, shaved, and brushed his teeth all while Jane informed him of their scheduled. Weekends don't exist anymore as they work overtime in the clinic in an effort to save up for a moderately good apartment, rather than this moderately shitty one.

"…Just a two months more, tops!"

Two months? Gunther thought that just one month was all the time left in their less than desirable situation.

"Jane," he said, hesitantly, "what do you mean by two more months?"

"You remember the apartment complex we liked, still under construction, well, it was almost done until last night. I checked my email this morning and… the pipes were done incorrectly and need to be redone before it could flood."

Gunther put down the toilet seat and sat down, head in his hands. He can't continue like this for two more months of overtime, no free time, and no Jane. It is cruel, frankly, how badly the universe doesn't want him to get laid. Hell, they are so busy that sharing the bathroom and talks like this are more frequent than not. Gunther groaned. Then, an idea popped into his head.

"Jane, I do believe I have a solution to our… scheduling problems."

She once again poked out from the curtain.

"Do tell." This time, her red hair was plastered to her neck and chest. Drops of water coated her face, almost as many as her freckles, her eyelashes were dark as the water held them in a way that makeup did not and her skin flushed from the warm water. She looked so beautiful. He caught notice of a bead of water that ran down her pale freckled cheekbone down her jaw, down her neck, so tantalizingly slow, until it rested on her clavicle. Gunther felt something stir deep below as he got up to face her.

With a pointed downward look, Jane said sarcastically, "It just warms my heart how I never fail to get a rise out of you, Gunther." He didn't attempt to deny that.

"We could… in there... right now..." His voice trailed off and his eyebrow wiggled suggestively. She slowly smiled as she wanted this problem resolved even more than he did.

"What time is it, Gunther?"

"5:10ish?"

Her smile widened. She beckoned to him, curling her pointer finger. Gunther could not believe this was real. It had been too long, for the both of them.

"I have forty minutes and all I need to do is dress after this. Come on in." Gunther removed his pants in record breaking time.

Jane wrapped her arms around his neck and back, "I love you, you complete Beefbrain." Her voice felt so tender and warm, as she looked into his dark grey eyes. There was some soft expression on her face, even as she insulted him. It still melted his heart each time she said that she loved him. They kissed then, tenderly as their water slicked bodies pressed together firmly, and fingers grazed lightly all over the other. His dark skin pressed against her lighter skin, pressed against the wall as the water rained over them. The smell of her rose shampoo and lemon body wash filled his nose. Her warm body burned his fingertips. He needed more. He had to be closer. Now.

Gunther pulled on her lower lip, releasing it, as his hands began to grope her. "I love you too." He ghosted over her lips. He looked deeply into her large green eyes, hoping that all his love and emotion was conveyed to her in that gaze. He kissed her cheek, following the path of that bead of water down her face before kissing and biting at her collarbone. His thoughts are turned to mush. All that matters is the warm water, Jane in his arms, the cool wall behind him, her breast in one hand, her ass in the other, her tongue—

"Gunther, we have a time limit remember."

"Skipping the foreplay?" He dejectedly said. She replied by turning around, bending down with her hands braced on the other wall in front of him.

That was definitely one way to answer the question.

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Please review, constructive criticism welcome. ((This is my first fic in years))