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Originally written as an anonymous Tumblr prompt: Japril having a moment and Matthew or Stephanie seeing them.
She slams the door behind her, pulling her scrub cap from her head with a deep sigh.
Heading down the long hallway, she slips through a door, leaving it to close behind her as she walks over to a bed. She collapses against herself, tugging her knees beneath her chest and sulking into her scrub top.
She cries aloud softly, dropping her head into her hands and sobbing to herself.
The door slowly opens and she doesn't look up as it shuts again.
"April."
She ignores his call and hiccups, tucking her head closer against her chest. She suddenly feels a pair of hands on her knees, the thumbs rubbing patterns on her skin through her scrub pants.
Jackson continues drawing circular motions on her knees as he talks, "What happened?"
She cries still, lifting her head slightly to glance at him through her eyelashes. She notices the sorry and compassionate look on his face and takes a deep breath, "I- It happened again."
He frowns, "Your patient-"
She nods through her tears, wiping the wet marks away with her wrists, "She was only nineteen, Jackson. She was just practising for some test because she was gymnast and the thing, it- It impaled her. She could barely breathe but she told me to call her parents for her if-" She shakes her head quickly and lets her head fall again, "I can't do it."
He watches her break down, his hands continuing to calm her nerves slightly, "I can do it for you." He tries and moves a hand to gently lift her chin, "Okay?"
April stares at him, not bothering to reply to his question. She just gazes at his face longingly, like she hasn't seen him a while, like she misses him. She swallows a breath, one that hitches when he wipes away the tears that continue to fall from her eyes.
"You don't have to do that." She informs him, her hands softly grasping his wrists.
He glances down at their hands with a faint smile, "I want to." He looks back at her then, and she notices the way his eyes flicker briefly to her lips. And she only notices because she does the same thing.
She thinks back on how long it's been since they last kissed, since she last felt him move with her. And she thinks about how, right now, she really wants him to kiss her, to move with her. And how she could let him do so for the rest of her life.
She glances down at his hands still resting on her knees, his fingertips spread over her thighs. She notices the way he's knelt down in front of her and she curses her stars for wishes that they were under different circumstances. She really wants to kiss him, to move with him, to feel him.
"Kiss me." The words leave her mouth before she has time to register them, and the look of bewilderment on his face speaks to volumes.
Jackson swallows a breath and licks his lips as he watches her face, and her mouth as she bites her bottom lip.
He's pretty sure that she knows what that does to him.
"Jackson." She sounds desperate and anxious, like she's needy for him.
His hands move up her thighs until they rest on her waist, and he hovers over her slightly on the bed as she backs up to press herself against the wall, her legs on either side of his torso as he traps her.
"Kiss me." She repeats, grasping the sides of his face between her hands as she closes her eyes.
He's leaning closer toward her still, his hands on either side of her hips against the mattress. He falters for a second, resting his forehead against hers, "I can't." He tells her quietly, his mouth shut tight after speaking.
She frowns slightly and grips the back of his neck in her grasp, "Why not?"
"Because if I kiss you, then I'm going to want to do more than just kiss you." He warns her, his hands lightly resting on the bare skin of her waist beneath her scrub top.
She bites her lip again and gazes at him breathlessly. He's trying to be the better person, to keep a straight mind, to be the sensible person. He doesn't want her to doubt them, to only want him when it's wrong, to regret everything afterwards. And he's pretty sure that she's still engaged and he still has a girlfriend.
"I don't care."
"I do." He tries and she sighs.
She moves herself into a sitting position and he backs away slightly, standing straight in front of the bed. She leans up, shifting onto her knees, and grabs his neck to pull him down towards her.
He groans against her mouth, his hands gripping her hips tightly as she presses her lips to his thoughtlessly, her hands slipping down the back of his top. She moans softly when he slips his tongue between her teeth and grips her waist to pull her off of the bed. Their new position finds her straddling his lap, her legs on either side of his as he pulls her top over her head. He's missed this. He's missed feeling her bare skin, touching her, being with her.
She lets him drop it onto the ground before playing with the strings of his scrub pants, her fingertips warm against him as she slides a hand beneath his shirt, pressing against his heated skin.
They barely hear the door open but the voice that follows stops April from removing his top, instead lowering the material back down over his torso.
"Holy crap." The intern speaks loudly, gripping the door-handle tight in her grasp as she stares at them with a furious expression.
Jackson stills, his hands not moving from April's waist until she lifts herself off of him and picks up her abandoned scrub top. She swallows a deep breath and avoids the intern's deathly gaze as she goes to move for the door.
"Oh, no. You're not going anywhere." Stephanie points out, slamming the door shut and stepping against it, her arms folded tight over her chest. She stares across the room at her boyfriend with a fuming look, "I can't believe you."
He licks his lips and rubs hand over his face, "Look, it's not what you think." He tries and she scoffs.
"Oh, you're gonna go with that, really?" She grins, amused at the situation, "Because to me, it looked like you two were close to doing it with the door unlocked." She informs them, swaying her hands back and forth. "But, you know, maybe I'm wrong. So, I'm gonna give you a chance to explain before I kick your ass."
April fidgets in the corner, chewing on her lip and avoiding eye contact with either of them. To say she's ashamed would be a serious understatement.
"Steph-"
"No, you know what? Don't even bother, I changed my mind." She shakes her head with a fake laugh, "I already know what you're gonna say. You have a history. But you're best friends. Oh, blah-blah-blah. And you," She turns to April with a pissed off and disgusted look. She doesn't care if she's talking to an attending because, right now, to her, she's speaking to the dirty skank who tried to screw her boyfriend. "Aren't you supposed to be some Jesus-loving virgin or something?"
Her tone is harsh and Jackson cuts her off from saying anything else, "Don't talk to her like that." He warns her.
She rolls her eyes and holds up a hand in self-defense, "She knows she's a whore, I shouldn't have to tell her anyways. I mean, come on, what good girl gets it on with someone else's guy? Besides, you know what? You two deserve each other, really. I guess I should have realized that a year ago when I got involved in this mess, I mean I saw your little argument when she came back from wherever, that should've been enough for me. Whatever, congratulations on the sex. I'm over it."
She groans and shrugs her shoulders carelessly as she turns to leave, her hand holding the doorknob,
"Have fun destroying each other." She leaves then, slamming the door with a loud bang behind her.
April looks like she's about to cry and Jackson sighs, standing up to comfort her.
"Hey." He says, pulling her into a hug.
She sobs against his chest, her hands clawing at the back of his top, "I am not a whore." She speaks, as though she has to convince him or something.
Jackson nods and cups the back of her head in his hand and closes his eyes, "I know you're not, okay? You're definitely not, and I am sorry about that." He pulls her tighter,
"She was right, you know." She starts, moving away slightly and rubbing her eyes, "I knew what I was doing, and I still did it anyway. I shouldn've known what'd happen." She shrugs and licks her lips, "Maybe I am a whore, but you just don't want to admit it."
"Hey, listen to me." He tries but she glances down at her floor so he lifts her chin again, "Look at me." She finally meets his gaze with a gasp and a breath, "You are not a whore. Far from it. Believe me, alright?" He smiles softly and she slowly nods, scratching the back of her head nervously and he frowns. "What's wrong?"
She blinks a couple of times before replying, her hand crossed over her chest, "I just- I have to go and, uh, think." She attempts, heading for the door and opening it gently, "I'll see you later."
He groans aloud to himself when she leaves the room. He should have remembered that this was April he was dealing with, and she doesn't react to things normally.
And her idea of thinking is walking away until she wants more.