Owen was proud of himself for starting therapy and he didn't feel any shame in admitting it, because he knew he was making progress. He had finally acknowledged the fact that he brought back scars from the desert, both physical and mental, and he was motivated to keep working through them for himself, for his career, for his friends and family, and most importantly, for Cristina. But she wasn't his Cristina, and he knew that. She was her own person and he loved that. She didn't rely on anyone to get what she needed or wanted. However, he simultaneously delighted in the fact that he could make her smile and temporarily halt the unending train of thought about cardiothoracic surgeries that was constantly running though her mind.
But there was just one problem he had with his therapy plan, one that he couldn't get off his mind, especially at this particular moment, laying alone a bottom bunk in a darkened on-call room. It was that his shrink had placed sex strictly off-limits. The logical part of his brain understood exactly why and it made sense to him, but it was the emotional and physical part that was unsatisfied. Every time he passed Cristina in the hallway, saw her leaning up against the desk working on charts, or looked at her across a patient while they were discussing the proper course of treatment, he couldn't help but feel nervous, excited, and frankly, a little turned on. He couldn't let himself think about her like that right now. They both knew they wanted each other in that way and had many close-calls where they had to almost painfully pull themselves apart before things went too far, because they were sticking to the plan.
…Right, 'the plan, the plan', he repeated to himself, as images of her creeped into his mind. He thought about the time he had caught himself staring just a little too long when Cristina's shirt had fallen away from her skin when she was leaning over a patient's bed to check on a wound. He could see right past the v-neck of her light blue scrubs and had a clear view of her breasts tucked into her black bra. He thought about that kiss they shared in the trauma room during their first meeting after he had removed that icicle from her torso. He thought about the time he had walked into the resident's lounge to share a patient's test results with Dr. Karev and seen Cristina hurriedly changing from her scrubs to her clothes so she could head over to Joe's to freak out about something or another with Meredith. He tried to be discreet about it, but he couldn't help scanning her sleek figure from top to bottom and back up, burning the images of her perfectly round bottom, her plump breasts, her smooth skin, and the back of her neck, which he loved for some unexplainable reason, into his mind forever. Try as he might, he couldn't kick the images out of his head and he felt himself starting to get hard. But he didn't want to ruin all the progress he had made, so he had no choice but to take matters into his own hands. It's not like he wasn't used to it, he reminded himself; that's all he could do when he was overseas. It was nearly four in the morning and there were no traumas in the ER at the moment, knock on wood, so he figured he had a few minutes. Though, he was a little ashamed to admit to himself that was probably more than enough time than he needed.
So he leaned his head back and started doing what he needed to do. He closed his eyes and did his best to imagine that it was Cristina's hand, not his, slipping past his waistband, gently cupping his ballsack and then moving slowly up his thick shaft toward the tip, fingers gently wrapped around the bottom with him thumb on top. He played a bit around the crown before finally reaching the tip, where he used his thumb to give a few gentle rubs in a circular motion. He moved his hand back down to the bottom of his shaft and stroked up and down a few more times, feeling his soft pubes touch his fist each time he reached the base. He ran his other hand up his shirt and rolled one of his nipples between his thumb and forefinger. He could feel himself getting harder as reached past his swelling balls to slowly graze over his tight asshole. As he did so, he felt a few drops of warm precum start to leak from his slit onto his palm. He softly played with his balls a little more on his way back up to keep stroking. When he felt the familiar pressure building up behind his taint, he knew he was close. A second later .. shit! Fuck! He had forgotten to lock the door behind him when he went into the room to lay down earlier. He heard the doorknob turn and he panicked, trying to tuck himself as quickly as he could back into his underwear and pants. The latch clicked on the door and the person flipped on the light. He hadn't been quick enough. He was too hard and too close to cumming to hide himself completely. He tried to remember who was on call tonight to narrow down the list of who might be entering behind him but his mind was far too scattered.
"Oh! Oh my god! Owen!" the familiar voice said shockingly. "I guess I should have knocked… or something!"
"Cristina! Sorry! I'm sorry!" He continued trying to hide what he had been doing, even though he knew that she had clearly seen him. A second passed while they both absorbed the situation. "It's just that… it's just…" he struggled to form a coherent sentence. "It's just that I've been trying so hard to stick to the plan and you've been so supportive. It was just a moment of weakness, that's all. I'm sorry you had to see that."
Cristina stood in the doorway for a moment, deciding how she was going to react. Her logic winning out, as it always did, she decided to get more information, think aloud. "I could be mad." she said, dragging out her words a little. "But that would be a little hypocritical as it would imply that I haven't done the same thing myself once or twice." Owen's mind flooded with a million images while his cheeks turned visibly red.
"I could be proud…" she continued, "because you are sticking to your therapy plan by taking care of this yourself. But I need to ask you one question…" she trailed off a little, tapping her fingers on the side of her jaw. Owen still couldn't think of anything to say, so he just raised her eyebrows at her, waiting for her to keep going. "What were you thinking about?" she asked calmly, using the same voice she used when she was taking a history from a patient.
If it was possible, Owen's face turned even more red. His eyes darted around the room as if he was looking for an answer before his mouth formed the only word it could. "You."
"Then I choose to go with my third option, and that is to be extremely turned on." she stated matter-of-factly. She reached behind her to close the door the rest of the way and turned the lock, before glancing back at him and turning off one of the banks of lights in the room, leaving it dimly lit. She took a few deliberate steps forward and sat down on the bottom bunk of the other set of beds, so she was just a foot or two away from Owen, who was tracking her every move. She turned to face him and planted her feet firmly on the floor in front of her, leaning over to put her elbows on her knees. "Continue." she said, with a wave of her hand in his direction.
"Ummm…what?" he asked, stunned.
"I said continue." she repeated, emphasizing the last word. "You want to stick to the plan, but you clearly have some needs you needs to fulfill, so it's the best I can come up with. And I'm here to give you a little live inspiration… observe just a little bit."
He was embarrassed. He had never, ever done anything like this. For him, touching himself was strictly a private activity. But she was right, he did have needs. And if he was going to be comfortable with anyone, it was going to be her, so he decided to give it a try.
He rolled onto his side so his back was against the cool concrete wall and used his left hand to support his head while he very hesitantly began to reach into his pants with his right. He tried to make eye contact with the beautiful woman sitting across from him but he couldn't, as he had suddenly become very shy, so he tipped his head back a little, closed his eyes, and returned to his previous thoughts. He reached farther down into his pants and his hand made contact with his dick, which had almost completely softened at this point. He ran all four fingers down the top of his shaft a few times before wrapping his thumb around the bottom, making a loose fist, continuing his motion. He opened his eyes for just a second to see that Cristina's hand had also, just barely, slipped below her waistband. She had also leaned back a little, placing her hand on the bed behind her for support. He thought it best to pretend he hadn't seen what he did and closed his eyes again, but increased the speed of his strokes a little nonetheless. He kept going for a few more seconds and then took another peek. She had kicked off all of her clothes from the waist down and was now sitting with her back up against the wall in her bunk, legs open and knees pulled nearly up to her chest, all of her exposed for him to see. "Oh, Cristina..." he let out in a low, gravelly voice, feeling himself immediately harden the rest of the way. All he got in response from her was a moan/sigh combination as she ran her middle finger from the back to front of her vagina without sinking in. Suddenly, Owen felt a little less embarrassed. He pulled his pants down a little more, so his entire cock and balls and his orange pubes were exposed, as well as his behind. He kept at it, reaching down to lightly tease his sack every few strokes. When he glanced up, Cristina sunk her middle finger into her dripping wet hole and a moan escaped her lips. She reached into her top to play with her breasts and he mirrored her, using his free hand to stimulate his nipples. He stroked harder and faster, occasionally reaching as far back as his asshole, as Cristina suck deeper and deeper into herself and began to move her fingers around inside. Deep growls began to flow from him as precum leaked from his tip. They were both so close to the edge and now maintaining almost constant eye contact. Neither was going to last much longer. Their moans increased in intensity and volume as did their speed and depth. "Almost there, baby?" Owen grunted out.
"So close. It's coming! It's coming!" she said a little too loudly, dragging out the end of her utterance passionately.
"Let go, baby. Let it happen. I'm right here." he encouraged, his eyes glued to her. She followed his request and shoved her finger deeply into herself one more time and kept it inside as her walls began to spasm. He noted every detail, every detail of her ecstasy. She was dripping wet and glistening with fluids, both her vagina and asshole twitching, with her head thrown back and mouth open, other hand still playing with her breasts.
The sights and sounds of her orgasm sent him into his own and he began to release streams of white cum all over his hand and body, his hips still thrusting in and out to move his cock in his loose fist.
As they both rode out the aftershocks of their orgasm simultaneously but separately and came out of their shared haze, they both turned their heads to make eye contact again, letting smiles spread across their faces.
"See," she said, still breathing heavily, "we can still have plenty of fun without technically breaking the rules." She let her head fall back for a few more seconds while her breath and heart rate returned to normal. As she began to clothe herself, he could see her panties and scrubs absorbing her leftover wetness. He reached over his head to grab a few tissues from the box on the night stand to clean himself up. When he was done, he balled them up in his hand and stood to throw them in the small trash can by the door. On his way back, he plopped down on the bed next to her and they shared a deep, wet kiss. When they separated, she quickly stood up and headed for the door.
"Leaving so soon?" he asked.
"Surgeries to do, lives to save." she responded. Her voice had turned back to normal.
She undid the lock and turned to head out the door with him watching her ass until she disappeared down the hallway. His body relaxed and he let out a hearty chuckle. Only Cristina would do such a thing and then get right back up and go look for a surgery to scrub in on. He had one final thought before he laid down to try to get a few minutes of actual sleep before he heard the imminent buzz of his pager from the nightstand, signaling an incoming trauma and the beginning of a new day – "I really, really can't wait until my shrink lets us do this for real."