A/N: Too early for a near fatal accident? NEVER!
I got this up tonight for Dhampir72, because they insisted and I went ::shrug:: I've got ten minutes to kill and proof-read this for posting~ Here ya go darlin'
Disclaimer: I own nothing~ Literally...metaphorically?...nah pretty literally.
Crossfire Chapter Three:
You haven't seen Worth in two weeks.
It's almost like a culture shock the first couple of days as you reconnect with your friends and trade stories about you're not-long-enough summer break while getting your class schedules for the upcoming year. You feel anxious, distracted...
And oddly empty.
But your last year of high school has started and fuck you're really regretting enrolling in five Advance Placement courses because it's only the second week in and you're already prepping for three essays on topics that you know are going to make you procrastinate until the very last day to actually write them.
You start looking forward to fifth period A.P. Studio Art, the only class that you can recall your Mom being very adamantly against as she begrudgingly signed off your priority-enrollement sheet just before the end of junior year.
It's the only class you actually enjoy doing which you know must irritate her immensely.
You've always been average at math and science, you've always gotten straight A's- except for that one time sophomore year...and it wasn't even your fault-, but that's not because you like to do those things.
You just do because that's how you were brought up, because it's necessary for you to get into a good college.
You remember how many of your teachers are complete jerks. Somehow you managed to forget that scrap of common knowledge during the span of June to August and their spouts of hostility towards you whenever you ask a completely innocent question are ridiculously unnecessary, and God if they would just answer the question without acting like they suddenly had a million other things to do as they played solitaire on their computers maybe you'd be able to go about your merry way.
But that's not really the point.
Your phone starts to ring and vibrate crazily, alerting you that it's time to wake up and get ready for another day of school. Thin fingers deftly shut the alarm off and fumble around for your glasses, which you quickly put on as you push yourself up from the warm sanctuary of your comforter and pillows.
It's the first Thursday of September and you still haven't seen him.
You let out a sigh and get out of bed, grab the clothes that are resting on your desk and enter the bathroom for a quick shower.
You get ready with practiced ease and you're already waiting at the bus stop down the street before you know it.
You ask yourself what you where expecting, as if there could have really been anything more to the odd little relationship you had barely managed to forge with Worth over those two days.
Of course it had been the two most memberable days of your seventeen years of living, but truly there was nowhere for the two of you to go, and he hadn't seemed the least bit interested in you anyways outside of the two quick romps involving your nether regions and, honestly, that's hardly the proper foundation for a relationship.
But still... you can't get him out of your head.
And that has to mean something, right?
Your bus arrives and dutifully brings you to school as the late bell for first period is ringing, but you don't feel rushed in the least. You shove your hands in your pockets and carry about your day.
Somewhere between break and fourth period your friends decide that, oh my god we should totally go see that new Sci-fi thriller that came out today!
You smile and agree, you have nothing better to do with your Thursday night after all. Those essays aren't due until the end of school the next day, you've still got plenty of time and you figure if you get the writing done by third period you can type it up in fourth, no big deal.
You can always turn them in late too, that was always an option.
So you all plan a time and place to meet, heading off to your respective classes to hopefully finish the day smoothly.
Which you do.
It was as uneventful as all the rest and you give your Mom a call to let her know you're going to a movie with some friends and you'll be home late.
She gives you an uncaring, 'stay safe' as you say your goodbyes, quickly hanging up as you run the last ten feet towards the small group that's already gathered.
You all laugh and tease as you walk the four or five blocks to the theatre, but eventually you find yourself staring off elsewhere, they don't seem to notice a thing.
You really should have tried to get Worth's number at least, someway to get in contact with him, or him you, but of course you didn't think of it at the time, why would you?
You're brought back to your senses only to realize your friends yelling something frantically at you.
"What?" You ask, you're having trouble hearing them over the loud, screeching noise coming from your side, and holy fucking shit there's a goddamn car coming straight at you and when the fuck did you end up in the middle of the street?
You're body is frozen and you can't move, but the vehicle that rams straight into you was kind enough to do the deed for you because now you're soaring through the air and you know something breaks as soon as you hit the ground because shit your leg just isn't meant to be bent that way.
The pain that consumes you is searing and hot and you hear your glasses clatter somewhere by your right ear, they're probably broken just like your goddamn leg, but you're really not sure.
Your friends are running towards you, screaming something, calling for help as they hover over your broken frame.
You wonder why you haven't passed out yet.
Time seems to be speeding by so quickly and your eyes shift away from the frightened faces saying something at you. Your body feels numb, every muscle, every fiber so worn from the sudden shock of the accident that it's like they've gone into hibernation as you look at the sky. You're pretty sure clouds aren't meant to be moving so quickly.
You feel hands on you, careful and precise as you're being lifted into an ambulance and chartered off to a hospital.
They hook you up to an I.V. and you still wonder why the hell you're awake because the two men sitting on either side of you and tending to your limp body to the best of their abilities are moving way to fast and and it starts to make you dizzy.
Or maybe that's due to the blood loss, you can't really say.
So you breathe in deep, oddly calm about all of this because, hey it's not like you're in severe pain or anything and at least you didn't waste a good ten bucks on some piece of shit movie that you weren't really that interested in seeing anyways.
The thought of sitting through one had lost it's appeal since that day with Worth anyways.
You're being rolled into the hospital's I.C.U. and you feel momentarily blinded as the passing ceiling lights speed past you.
You suddenly stop moving, white fuzziness spotting your vision and you blink a few times rather slowly.
The blissfully numbing cap on all your nerves is slowly fading away and you're reluctant to see it go, you can already feel the blistering pain of your body just on the edges of your consciousness.
You're surrounded by white coats and blurred faces, quickly stated segments of medical script and you try to tune them out.
The lingering smell of intoxicating nicotine floods your still slightly aware senses and you're eyes widen.
Because it's him and his fingers, those fingers, are on your wrist before he shoves another needle into the underside of your forearm, but you can't really care.
You smile as the anesthesia makes it's round through your body.
He's scowling at you as you go under.
The first thing you see when you gradually become conscious again is your Mom and God it was the most annoying thing ever.
So as she coddles you and asks about how you feel you look the other way and your eyes widen at what you see, your brain now fully functioning and raring to go.
He notices your gaze and rolls his eyes, arms crossed and so distinctly displeased.
And he leaves the room.
Your mood deflates and your mind shuts down as you promptly fall back to sleep, your Mom's scratchy voice filling your ears.
You're relieved to discover that your Mother-dearest is nowhere to be found when you wake up again, and you could really care less where she is.
You hear something rustle to your side and suddenly your heart beat accelerates, and it's quiet audible from the monitor that starts to beep sporadically somewhere to your left.
It obviously catches his attention because you watch as those eyes flick over to the green screen, watch as the peeks start to even out again and his gaze slides down to yours.
"Welcome back Princess." Worth says to you and you're left sputtering like a fish out of water.
"Wha-what are you doing? You get out through cracked lips and he doesn't seem phased by the question as he continues to replace the blood bag hanging on the same stand as the I.V.
"Was't look like 'm doin'? I'm changin' yer-"
"No, no, I mean...what are you doing here?" You try to sit up, but you find you can't and it irks the living shit out of you because you want to be able to look at him properly and not feel so damn useless and strapped down.
He smirks at your folly and you scowl back at him. Your response seems to please him to no end as that smirk growing even wider.
Worth turns back to his task, and he stabs another needle into your skin without warning causing you to flinch because, woah your nervous system suddenly works again.
"Complete'n my residency." He finally answers and you never knew your eyebrows were capable of reaching your hair line until that very moment.
"Re-residency? You're a doctor?"
He scoffs at your ignorance, " 'm almost a doctor kid, now calm th' 'ell down or I'll sedate y'again."
You instantly shut up because that's the last thing you want. "Tha's a good pup," He praises, scribbling something down onto the clipboard at the foot of your bed.
You finally get the chance to look around you, surprised to find that you can't move your right leg at all and you feel sufficiently trash-compacted to say the least, but there's a huge window to your right and you can see a pretty decent view of the shitty little city you live in through it which kinda balances out all the bad.
And Worth being there added to the whole thing times a hundred.
"So..." You start and you're surprised to see he's still standing there, but glad that you're not just talking to yourself, you do that much too much already. "What happened?"
"Y'got hit." He evenly supplies and you frown.
"By what?" Your brain really was the most unhelpful organ at the moment.
"Wha' d'ya mean, 'By what?', by a goddamn car, tha's what!" He yells and now you're thoroughly convinced that you'll forever be an utter moron in his eyes.
"Oh...," You look up at the tiled ceiling, idly counting each square, "I guess I did."
He sighs hastily, already at the door, "D'finitely an odd one."
And you can't help the small smile that comes to your lips as you close your eyes.
It's been four days since the accident and you've been granted the privilege of a wheel chair while you stay the rest of the week at your Mom's insistence, it's for your own good you suppose.
And of course the hospital doesn't mind at all because, hey, they're getting paid for your stay and a few more days couldn't possibly hurt.
You find that you're rather in favor of your Mother's decision for once in your life, which continues to bring you into a gagging fit it's just so wrong, because guess who you've been able to see for the past four days.
A small part of you wants to find the poor soul who your Mom is planning to sue and thank them for having the decency to run you over. Without their help you may have never seen Worth again.
Your knee is apparently what had to be operated on, it wasn't a break like you had thought. Oh no, your right patella was only shattered into a million pieces instead.
But your glasses managed to make it through the whole ordeal unscathed and you wonder how lucky you can get in a single week.
So you wheel yourself around the sterile halls of the hospital, peeking into each room with idle curiosity at what you find behind them, though your main goal is to track down that blond Aussie and you're not even trying to hide it.
Your ears perk up when you hear that unmistakable voice and you roll back a ways until you can see into the room.
Worth is sitting on the edge of the room's standard-equipped bed, listening as a young boy talks animatedly to him.
The poor thing is as skinny as a rail and the most ghostly shade of blue, but he has this strikingly vibrant red hair.
You find yourself instantly sympathizing with him because really no one could possibly be living much longer looking so frail, but the way his round face seems to brighten up with every word that falls from his lips makes you think otherwise at the same time.
He seems so extremely alive and dead at the same time and you couldn't even begin to explain how. It was almost as if his body and soul were polar opposites, magnets that couldn't help but stick to one another and create this conundrum of a person despite how much it seemed to be tearing him apart.
You find yourself oddly drawn to him.
Worth sees you out of the corner of his eye and you instantly snap your head out of the doorway and try to blend into the surroundings though you know it's an attempt at futility.
He excuses himself from the red-haired boy and you flinch as soon as he steps out of the room, his eyes slowly scanning you over.
You peek through your half-closed eyelids, trying to gage his expression, but the task is near impossible from your vantage point.
He tilts his head to the side, gesturing in the direction of the elevator and indicating for you to follow as he starts to walk away.
You get into the lift after him, and the two of you are silent.
The silence carries out as you arrive at the top floor. Without saying a word he pushes you out of the elevator and over to the stairs that lead to the roof.
You try to protest, really you do, as he lifts you up like it's no big deal, like you don't weigh a thing to him, and brings you outside.
Worth lightly places you on the ground next to the roof's railing and you're relieved that he didn't just drop you to the ground because that would be such a Worth thing to do right?
Or so you assume. You're not really sure what you think of him at this point.
He pulls out a pack of Marlboros from his lab coat and places one to his lips as he pads around his person for a light.
The item is found and he cups his hand around the flame as the cigarette sparks to life, a steady stream of smoke starts to float from the very tip.
"Y'see tha' kid back there?" He asks after the first inhale.
You nod absently at the question, an image of that sickly boy coming to your mind.
" 'e's been 'ere for years an' they can't f'gure out wha's wrong with 'im."
There's this tinge of anger in his voice, and you note that his eyes have narrowed the minutest of amounts.
"Why not?"
He gives you this dark dark smile, as if it was something remarkable and significant and you couldn't be trusted with the knowledge he had.
"B'cause s'not somethin' tha' modern medicine c'n cure."
And you're not really sure how to respond to that. You weren't really even aware of the possible implications.
He takes in a long hit of the cig. It's halfway done.
" 'm thinkin' of dropin' out."
Your eyes snap up from where they had been staring at your lap, and your jaw falls slightly slack.
"O-of medicine?" You stutter out because what the fuck being a doctor suited Worth in some sick twisted way that probably only made sense to you.
"Yeah, it makes me sick." And his tone conveys exactly how sick it makes him.
You push up your glasses so they rest correctly on your nose, your mouth going dry, "Then why'd you even start?"
There's a long long pause before he speaks.
"I thoug't I could make a diff'rence. But I hate it, caterin' to people ain't really my cup'a tea."
You have this irking feeling that there's more to his story but your too shocked by the revelations that strikes you as you watch him lean against the railing surrounding the roof as another cloud of smoke leaves his mouth and is dispersed into the wind.
You realize that you're in love with him.
In love with this person that could literally give a rats ass about what anyone thought.
That was true to himself and knew that's all that really mattered.
This person who's everything you're not and never could be at least not for the moment being.
Because you're young, and shallow and you're world is so much smaller than his.
You realize that you love this person, who truly is kind if you take the time to actually look.
There's is so much you want to learn from him.
And you don't want to miss a single second of it.
It's the end of the week already and Worth is wheeling you out the hospital, your Mom following close behind, and he's only doing it because it's 'hospital protocol or some shit like that'.
Your caretaker by birth thanks him profusely as you get to the exit and it's the most surreal thing to see your own Mother thank the man you had illicit sexual relations with not a month ago.
You manage to hobble your way outside on the crutches you were given back in your hospital room and you awkwardly say goodbye and thanks to him as he waves you off from inside the hospital lobby, though there's this softness around his eyes that reads: 'It's no problem Princess.'
You smile unconsciously over the fact that you can actually hear his voice in your head.
The ride home is tortuously long because with every jostle the car makes your knee screams in protest and you wonder when your next dosage of prescription pain killers will be because they're not really doing the trick just yet.
You frown as you hop up the stairs on one foot to your room, nearly falling straight on your face too many times to count.
Your breathing is a little quicker than usual as you collapse on your bed your eyes shut tight and you're asleep before you even know it.
Another week has passed since you saw Worth again.
You've become more coordinated on your crutches and the pain in your knee has become tolerable.
You steadily make your way around school and everyone got a real kick out of it the first day or so, but now it was almost normal.
The crutches are oddly rewarding because you have the unspoken privilege of arriving to class late without any consequences which is pretty neat in it's own right.
But still no Worth.
And everything seems a little gray because of it.
Your biceps are beyond sore from crutching your way around for the past four weeks and yet somehow your scrawny twigs-for-arms refuse to build any muscle.
It's freaking annoying because your really are too skinny and this could've been the perfect opportunity to bulk up a bit if your goddamn body would only cooperate.
But it won't so there goes that idea.
You've been falling behind in your studies and you've only been making minor attempts to catch up.
You're doing perfectly fine in Art, so the other classes kinda fall to the way side and you're already one-fourth of the way done with your concentration for the A.P. test in may.
As long as you get a C in English and Government you're fine for graduation.
And no matter how much your Mother has been nagging you about it, you can't bring yourself to start looking into colleges, or even really caring.
Because you have your sketch book and acrylics.
But no Worth.
So you're compensating one with the other and you can't seem to be bothered with anything else.
It's been four months.
Four long, uneventful, boring months when you finally see him again.
You're going back to the hospital to have your knee looked at, see how the healing has progressed and if it all looks good you'll be trading in your crutches for a brace.
So you're sitting in a sickeningly germ-free room, eyeing the various containers filled with examination tools and the like when the door is opened and in walks Worth.
Your Mom is still waiting out in the reception area, immersing herself in some lady-folk magazine.
He comes in and you can instantly tell that he's been smoking more than usual because the scent sort of permeates around him and it makes you frown.
His posture seems a little off too, something about the way his shoulders are sort of hunching forward and his spine is going slightly crooked.
" 'ow's the knee?" You're grateful to find that his voice is exactly the same though.
"It's alright I guess," Because really how are you supposed to know? You're going off the fact that you've become tolerant of the pain, not always the best sign.
"Let's 'ave a'look then," and he pulls the rolling stool sitting in the corner over to the examination bed you're sitting on and reaches for your leg.
He carefully rolls up your right pant leg of the grey sweats you've come to appreciate more than any other article of clothing in your possession, skin-tight jeans became such a bitch to deal with when you had a knee-injury.
He cups your calf and you've forgotten how quickly your heart could pick up because of this man, and your hands clench down on the sanitary paper you sitting on.
His fingers ghost up your leg and you swallow hard as it rests on the wrapping around your knee.
"W-Worth?" You stammer out and his eyes leave your knee and meet your gaze.
"Wha' is it Princess?" He responds, rolling over to the small counter imbedded into the wall, pulling open a drawer and grabbing a small pair of medical scissors.
You lace your fingers together and rest them in your lap as he comes back and starts to cut away the gauze around your knee. "Are you...alright?"
" 'm fine Peaches, n'ver b'n better." Though the distinct lack of narcissism in his tone says otherwise.
You cringe at the large red scar that you hadn't had the opportunity to see yet and it kinda makes you sick to look at it so you focus instead on the top of his head and he looks you over.
"Are you sure?"
His fingers freeze and his entire form tenses.
When his eyes meet yours it's obvious he's beyond pissed.
And suddenly you're lying flat and being pinned to the bed. "Wha's'it matter t'you?" He returns, voice harsh and cold.
Your eyes are wide behind your glasses, and your heart is like a conga-drum on freaking uppers. "I-I'm just w-worried is all..."
He laughs, though it's more like a strangled chuckle more than a laugh. "Well dun' be, 'kay kid?"
Your ever growing frown is more apparent now as he stands and leaves the room.
You sit up, trying to calm down your heart and you let out a sigh.
This was just so stupid. You haven't seen him in months and you feel like you're fucking everything up.
Worth enters the room again, a squishy, sponge-looking object in hand.
It looks like nothing has really changed, though his shoulders aren't drooping as much and his posture is a little better. He places the brace around your right leg, and his fingers linger a little longer than necessary.
"Yer all done." He says, those fingers still on your shin and he looks at you with one of his signature smirks as he slides the appendages down to your ankle.
You breath hitches at the contact and the smirk widens a fraction. "Ya c'n leave now Kitten." He suggests, but you shake your head lightly.
Because there is no possible way you could even begin to consider leaving as those hands trail back up your calves and he brings his lips to the skin just above your braced knee.
"Y'sure?" He breathes against the skin and you let out a small hum of approval.
He bites against the small expanse of skin in between your brace and rolled up pant-leg, your whole body tensing as he kneads the flesh with his teeth.
Those lips trail up your inner thigh, teasing you through the cotton fabric of your pants until he's pushing up your shirt and nipping around your navel.
Your eyes slide shut and your left hand laces through his short hair.
His tongue creates unintelligible patterns across your abdomen and down to your pelvic region, your breath escalating with each slide of warm perfection against your skin.
He bites viscously down on the lightly protruding bone of your hip and you hiss lightly, because fucking shit you've been craving this for so damn long.
"Worth," You let out and he hums against the lightly forming bruise he just made, "Worth please."
He pulls back and grins up at you so mockingly, "Please what Confag?"
You let the jab slide, you're just too goddamn needy to deal with it. You bite your lips as those fingers are slowly pulling down the waistband of your pants and his lips ghost over that sensitive junctions where your hip meets your thigh.
"Something," You finally respond, though your voice is slightly broken, "Anything," and suddenly you're back to pleading.
"Tha's kinda vague," He teases and you whine because his lips aren't on your skin anymore and that was the last thing you wanted.
But right when you open you eyes they're being closed as your whole body contracts and arches back, your fingers clenching tightly in his hair.
Because his lips are around you and it's one of the most intense things you have ever felt in your life.
He starts to tongue your slit and you're trying to muffle your voice to the best of your capabilities without the use of your hands which are much too preoccupied with Worth's hair.
His fingers hold down your shaking hips as his mouth takes you in a little deeper. You're mind has completely flat-lined, your skin is tingling and vibrating like crazy and you're almost cradling his head against your pelvis from your hunched over position.
Your hands start to slide down from his hair, to his white lab-coat and under his collar, your palms against his shoulders as he takes you further into his mouth.
You can't stop the moan that slips out this time and he laughs, the sudden vibration against your dick nearly sends you over the edge with another moan, your fingers clawing against his skin and leaving red trails in their wake. Since when did something like this feel so fucking good and why hadn't anyone told you about it sooner?
The harsh treatment to his shoulders seems to prompt Worth to go even further because suddenly his lips are all the way around the base of your shaft and he's swallowing.
You shudder and your legs clench around his sides, but he doesn't stop. He deep-throats you again and again and you can't even hope to hold on much longer.
You try to warn him, you really do, but you can feel the back of his throat against the head of your beyond hard erection and you can't stop cuming into that hot passage.
But he doesn't seem to mind and greedily swallows it all down.
Some part of you is so disgusted by the fact that he actually swallowed, but it's quickly shot dead by the more hormonal area of your brain that finds it so incredibly hot.
He licks you clean and you twitch with every touch, you skin extremely hyper-sensitive after orgasming so wonderfully.
Your thoughts still haven't managed to become coherent just yet as he stands and lightly pulls your pants back up.
You mumbled a satisfied 'Thanks' as he straightens out his shirt and coat.
He goes to leave, but your body wants otherwise as your hand shoots out and grabs his wrist.
Worth seems surprised as he looks back at you, but your eyes are focused on the ground.
You build up your courage steadily and you meet his impatient eyes.
"I...I missed you." And your cheeks are as red as a tomato, but you're trying to keep your face serious while trying to prevent your mind from spontaneously combusting
It's a pretty difficult task.
There's that appraising look, that sweep up and down that you find yourself not minding as much anymore. Let him look, let him look all he wants.
He gently pries your hand away from his wrist and leans down so your heights are level.
The kiss is nothing short of spectacular, as his tongue explores your mouth and you wrap your still slightly shaking arms around his neck.
You lean into him as he pushes you up against the wall, mindful of your injury the entire time.
You're almost frantic as your mouths meet again and again, sliding and nipping and breathing each other in.
But you love it, the way his teeth mare the skin of your neck, the way his fingers tighten around your hips.
And you're not sure when you started to grind against each other, but apparently that's crossed some line that you had never been aware of because he's holding you against the wall at arms length, separating you.
He kisses you once more, quickly and evenly before he pulls away with an air of finality and leaves the room.
You're left to catch yourself against the hard surface at your back even though collapsing does sound so appealing at the moment.
You close your eyes and calm your breathing.
You're a little unsteady on your legs and you have to use the wall for support as your gradually limp your way out of the examination room and over to your Mother.
She contributes the redness in your cheeks to the lack of crutches and the exertion cause by their absence, of course there's no way she could ever know the actual reason.
That you had just been given your very first b.j. for no extra charge by a soon-to-be-Doctor as well as the current object of your stupidly naive affections.
"What took you so long?" She asks as you both get into the car.
Your cheeks go red hot as you determinedly look out the window at the passing scenery, ignoring her question completely.
Because your mind is filled with Worth and how much you didn't mind tasting yourself on his tongue.
A/N: Just wanna say thanks to everyone who has reviewed so far, it would really make me happy to hear more feedback though :D Porn needs inspiration people!