22nd April 20X5
It had been only a few weeks now, but to Alfred and Arthur the days had flown by. They'd never really spoken about it, not once had they ever exchanged a word on the matter, but from that first encounter it seemed that any time they found themselves alone together they wound up on a bed. Or against a wall; or chair, or even once the floor, but the nearest place they could be pressed close to one another had been used in one way or another. It had been coincidence at first, empty on-call rooms that drew them to one another; then came the glances that invited the other to join, then quick words had dissolved into regular meetings in empty rooms and cramped closets.
It wasn't the most elegant system, nor the most conventional, but those few weeks had brought both of them more happiness and excitement than any of the past year. It wasn't really just sex, of course words were scarcely exchanged in attempts to keep quiet while other hospital staff walked by, but conversations as they dressed again were often more personal than might have been expected.
Even so, they had managed to keep their little affair a secret. Neither had breathed a word to anyone else, though when they hadn't really defined their loose 'friends with benefits' system between one another, there wasn't much to tell. It didn't bother them, for now, they didn't need a clear cut definition of their fraternising – and Alfred at the very least didn't need to be undermined by his friends. He still hadn't made up with Lovina and his brother was less than helpful as he was growing more and more stressed with piles of work; which left Alfred in charge of most of their household chores as well as his own intern duties.
But he was nearly back to his usual self that morning as he wandered into the intern locker room. There were a few already there, though no one really looked up when the door opened, too busy changing or sorting out their things. Alfred himself went straight to his locker, shrugging out of his jacket and pulling out some scrubs as he hummed some jingle he'd heard that morning under his breath.
He didn't get much time to change, however, as Kiku appeared beside him at his own, adjacent locker. "Good morning." He greeted with a small, polite smile, the likes of which Alfred returned.
"Morning." Alfred answered, setting his things down to pull his shirt off. Though things hadn't quite been mended with Lovina, Kiku had been flitting between the two – a true neutral. Alfred bared no grudges against Kiku, though he was very aware of how eager his friend was for he and Lovina to make up.
Kiku himself was only concerned about his friend's wellbeing. Though glancing up at the shirtless Alfred, he wondered if that was an issue for the other at the moment.
"—What's that on your back?"
Alfred froze for a moment in his place, realising far too late that his bare back had put on full display the fading red welts of scratch marks. "Uh, where?" He said quickly, shrugging and pulling on his scrub top as fast as he could manage and prevent his friend from staring longer.
"All over. Those scratch marks." Kiku insisted, now entertained by his friend's denial. "Was it a one night stand or have you been keeping a boyfriend secret from u- me?"
The image of Arthur tugging him into a closet and kissing him senseless against a shelf of packaged syringes flashed across Alfred's mind.
"—I don't know what you're talking about, I haven't had sex." Alfred continued to insist, looking quite intensely at his locker.
"You're sure about that?" Kiku had an eyebrow raised, almost making Alfred worry he could see the thoughts of his hot makeout sessions with the older doctor in his mind.
"Positive." He flashed a lame smile, reaching into his locker for his pager.
Arthur's caught moans against his neck.
"One hundred percent?"
Arthur's hands pushing desperately past fabric.
"I'm serious."
Arthur's smirk as their hips grind together.
"You'd tell me if you did?"
Arthur's breathless 'Jones' muttered hotly against his lips.
Alfred swallowed thickly.
"Of course. I don't even have time to find someone to sleep with these days." The image of Arthur spread out beneath him appeared in his mind, leaving Alfred with the quiet voice of his own psyche whispering 'liar'. "—I slipped off the kitchen counter yesterday; the drawer handles must've caught me."
Kiku didn't look any more convinced than Alfred expected him to, but at least he knew the man had the decency to leave off a topic if someone refused to answer. There was no way Alfred could convince anyone those weren't scratch marks from fingernails, but Kiku would at least pretend.
Kiku nodded slowly, reaching into his own locker for a few things – he had the sense to dress before arriving. "I would've been surprised; I would've thought your crush on Doctor Kirkland prevented you from sleeping with someone else." He was teasing, laughing only when Alfred elbowed him. "—You haven't said much about him recently though, are you feeling okay?"
It was meant in a reassuring way as much as teasing, Kiku was aware of Alfred's sensitivity around the issue in the weeks prior, but the short (and slightly nervous) laugh that escaped the American reassured.
"I'm feeling just fine, Kiku."
If only he knew just how fine.
Arthur was doing his best not to draw attention to himself these days. He'd never been one for the limelight really, but his current state of affairs rather meant he was avoiding the lingering attentions of any of his colleagues. Especially Francis.
This was both hard and easy to do as the doctor was often held up in his office, but also needed to speak to his heads of department often. But given the way things were between him and Alfred, he didn't want to risk anyone else finding out just yet – and that man had some kind of sixth sense for knowing when someone had had sex. Arthur would've sworn himself that it was only because Francis and he had known each other so long, but unfortunately he'd proved his weird abilities far too often for Arthur to continue to argue that. Whatever the case, Arthur did not want Francis to know that he was sleeping with anyone; it would be far too easy for the Frenchman to jump to the immediate conclusion that it was Alfred and he was in no mind recently to deal with that pile of horse shit.
He was enjoying himself with Alfred; he didn't want it picked apart by someone else. They hadn't even put any kind of label on it themselves and added pressure from peers on either end wouldn't help. Of course, he was worried Francis would come to notice him pinching the free condoms from the clinic. He'd been increasingly more paranoid that he'd get caught carrying condoms and lube around in his pockets – but he wasn't about to stop when Alfred might catch his eye and tug him into the nearest dark corner.
That thought of Alfred did mean Arthur had to repress a shiver, though it just as soon brought a scowl to his face. It just had to be his luck that he was walking around the hospital with his neck on full display when he least wanted attention – and no prizes could be given for guessing why exactly he wanted his neck covered. Even if that last encounter was a fond memory for the moment, if he ran into Francis he'd be immediately quizzed on the mark on his neck.
So far though, Arthur had been successful in both avoiding Francis and hiding the hickey; at the moment he'd managed to prevent anyone from noticing with pulling up his collar and rubbing his neck. If anyone thought anything they could only assume he had some muscle issue.
Nevertheless, he had little to do that day – and Alfred had gotten his own marks as revenge for the rough treatment. Maybe that didn't exactly work in Arthur's favour, but it seemed like a good piece of revenge in his mind for the moment. Furthermore, he hadn't seen Alfred since then, he had no idea that the scratches had been seen by anyone.
Not that this sort of thought was bothering him at the moment, Arthur had just gotten out of surgery (a wonderful way to avoid colleagues as long as they weren't looking for you) and was thinking more about washing the suds of soap off of his forearms and considering what to do for lunch.
"That was amazing work, Doctor Kirkland."
Arthur was stirred out of his thoughts by the voice of Lovina, blinking at her as he took a moment to process her words.
"Thank you, but I'd hardly call a bypass amazing work." He gave an odd breath of a laugh, turning his face back to his hands as the intern did with her own. "I hope you were paying close attention though, even if it's not amazing that doesn't make it easy."
Lovina nodded sharply, shaking her hands dry before reaching for a towel. "Of course."
Arthur copied the younger doctor's actions in drying off his hands, but his eyebrow rose. Ever the strict teacher, he turned to face Lovina properly, stony expression appearing on his face. "Talk me through the procedure."
Lovina blinked, almost looking startled as she looked up to Arthur. She seemed like a deer in headlights, the unusual lack of surety in her eyes as she met the older doctor's gaze.
"Uh—Begin with, with opening the chest cavity," She glanced down, eyebrows knitting together in an unusually hard form of concentration. "—No, open, no, take,"
"Doctor Vargas." Arthur cut in, frowning softly at her. His expression hadn't changed much, though as he watched her begin to flounder he'd crossed his arms, leaning against the basin with a more concerned touch to his features. He didn't involve himself in many of the intern's lives, ever if he could avoid it, but she'd seemed off for the past few days and he wasn't about to brush it off as nothing when the usually eager and bright student couldn't form the words to describe a simple procedure. "You seem distracted. Is everything alright?"
Lovina swallowed, expression turning sheepishly embarrassed as she looked away. She opened her mouth to argue, any number of flimsy excuses on the tip of her tongue, but lying to Doctor Kirkland would get her nowhere. Whilst she doubted the man had any interest whatsoever in getting to know his interns in any friendly way outside of the confines of work, just trying to tell him she was fine wouldn't do either. Besides, he'd already guessed and he didn't seem easily fooled by lies. She sighed, running a hand over her meticulously pulled back hair.
"—No." She conceded eventually, still looking down. Answering flatly got her out of it; it didn't mean she had to elaborate.
Arthur surveyed her quietly, a frown still on his features. Much as he hated to admit it, he did get worried about the younger staff members. He was young once, he remembered all the stress, personal life and professional. He couldn't blame any of them for crumbling under it; he was just surprised Lovina had kept it up so long.
"Do you want to tell me about it or am I going to have to sit here and imagine you're going to take care of it yourself?" He raised an eyebrow, catching the young woman's frustrated gaze.
"It's nothing, really. I can handle it. I mean, I will. It's just-" She paused, hesitant, another sigh eventually escaping her. "I…I had an argument with a friend and I've realised I…may have been in the wrong. May have. But I don't know how to go about telling him that because it's been a few weeks now and I don't think he wants to talk to me." She crossed her arms, brows furrowed not dissimilarly to Arthur's, and he too sighed.
Of course, he had to pretend he didn't know exactly who she was talking about. Alfred was a surprisingly private person, but he was more emotional than that allowed. He had no idea what the cause of this spat was, but Alfred had been distracted enough to warrant an explanation after one encounter. Arthur knew about their argument, though he had no idea he was the subject of it.
"Well…Maybe you just have to get him alone." He offered. Arthur was incredibly poor at dealing with his own emotions, to a fault in fact. But he'd spent enough time around other people to know that sometimes apologies didn't need to be hard. "That's probably not easy at the moment but you never know. After your shifts or something."
Lovina nodded distractedly, once again avoiding Arthur's gaze. "Thank you, Doctor Kirkland. I have rounds, I need to go-"
"Right, of course. Think about it, though. If this is affecting your work you should do something about it; I won't have distractions in my OR."
His voice was stern, but he did see the hint of a smile on Lovina's face as she disappeared around the corner.
Left alone, Arthur sighed. He had his own work to do too, and grabbing his lab coat he relented that he'd have to fill in another pile of boring paperwork before he did his own rounds on patients. He checked the time. Later than he would've liked – Lovina's fault probably for distracting him with her personal life. That was his argument of course, ignoring the fact that he'd been the one to ask. In his own mind, he could argue that he had no business in the affairs of interns, but dealing with them as part of the territory. Why he'd agreed to come to a teaching hospital he'd never know. No, he did know. It was because his best friend needed a head of cardio and he needed a job.
He ran a hand down his face as he made his way to the nearest nurse's station, usual frown set in place as he lent on the counter and fished for his chart. He'd barely clicked his pen when a voice called out from behind him, effectively startling him out of his reverie.
"Arthur!"
The man whipped around, startled, though he almost instantly regretted it as his eyes landed on the other doctor who had called out to him. He cleared his throat, attempting to diguse his slight fluster before he met Francis' gaze. Francis' eyes narrowed, frown replacing the small smile as he scrutinize the other doctor.
"Everything alright?"
"Peachy." Arthur flashed a weak smile, aware he had very little ability to lie to the man who knew him so well. Francis of course didn't look convinced, though he couldn't see anything physically wrong with the man and therefore had no reason to argue. Still, he hesitated, watching Arthur until the man began to frown too – but out of irritation rather than concern. "What do you want, then?"
"Oh—" Francis slowly leant back, lips pulling to one side in an expression of concern. "I need a cardio assist on a patient. The child, well, I can explain on the way up." He gestured for Arthur to follow him, pausing when the other hesitated and turning back to face him with a questioning gaze.
Arthur returned it, nursing the dread of Francis possibly working out why he'd been off all day – either he'd never live it down or get into some serious trouble. He made a gesture with his chart, turning to the desk and resting a hand on his neck – disguising the action as a need to rub a sore spot – as he put the chart back.
"Neck alright?" Francis asked, hands in his pockets.
"Slept on it weird." He replied, dropping his hand only when he was standing beside the other and had begun to walk. "Where to?"
"Room 403." Also known as the other side of the hospital. Lifts or stairs necessary, plenty of turns, plenty of waiting, plenty of possibilities for Francis to ask uncomfortable questions or catch sight of the dark mark on his neck.
He was going to murder Alfred.
It had been six hours, surgery included. A woman in need of emergency C-section, with the child's heart outside of their body. Arthur could make all the complaints about Gilbert Beilschmidt's personality he wanted, but watching the man in action would never case to be impressive. All three of them had taken part in the surgery, though Gilbert had cleaned up quickly to go check on other patients.
Arthur had none anymore, still washing his hands as Francis leant against the sink. Watching him. He had been for the past ten minutes and it was beginning to irritate Arthur, though he refused to speak up first. Not that he had to wait much longer.
"Where'd you get that hickey?"
Arthur froze, running watch washing the remaining suds off of his hands. He cleared his throat, turning away swiftly to dry his hands. "I don't know what you're talking about."
Francis snorted. He'd been dealing with Arthur years long enough to know when the was lying. He'd always get defensive and the 'I don't know what you're talking about' was his go-to response for avoiding the questions asked of him. "Arthur you know I know when you're lying. Just tell me if it was a hook up." Arthur stayed quiet, causing Francis' eyes to widen. "Are you seeing someone?" He demanded, incredulous. "How did you do that without me finding—"
"I'm not!" Arthur cut in, turning to frown. "It's—It's not—" He slowed drying his hands. What was it he was doing with Alfred? They never talked about it, it just happened. It wasn't quite just sex, but it wasn't quite more than that, either.
"—So, acquaintance or stranger?" Arthur glared at him. "Just tell me if you're seeing someone or not!"
"I'm not." He snapped firmly.
He wasn't, was he? They weren't a thing—weren't an item—But Arthur hadn't pursued or slept with anyone else. Was Alfred doing the same? He didn't know. And for a minute he thought he didn't want to know.
"Okay." Francis shrugged, bemused as he moved away and towards the door. "Whatever you say."
Arthur watched the door shut behind him, staring at it as if he could see the Frenchman disappearing behind it. Francis knew when he was lying, Francis knew him better then he knew himself sometimes.
And Francis didn't believe him.
Is there ever any excuse for disappearing updates? No, not really. I've had a bunch of stuff and this got pushed to the side forever and I'm really sorry about that. I do love this story and I hope you'll be seeing a lot more coherent updates from now on (particularly as I can finally put in the plot aha)
Sorry for the long gap between updates, I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter. More to come, promise!
