Archive of Our Own

“What the fuck is wrong with you, Jesse?”

Dana's parked in front of his locker, looking ready to swing at him. It wouldn’t be the worst thing if she did, the image has crossed his mind before with his right hand wrapped around his cock, but he doubts the Pitt could possibly afford her to break her fist on his jaw, especially for this.

“Morning, Dana.” He shrugs off his jacket and simply reaches over her head for his locker. He could wrap his hands around her waist and touch knuckles, and she still thinks she could physically stop him from doing shit. “I'd love to know what you're referring to.”

“Emma.” The name explodes from Dana’s tiny body as he pushes his jacket into the mostly empty locker. “You took her home with you—and don’t fucking deny it, everyone saw you two in your sports car—”

It’s been a while since he’s heard a WRX being referred to as a sports car. He shuts the locker door. “I didn’t take her home with me, I just took her home.”

“Did you sleep with her?” Dana hisses at him. 

“No, I didn't,” Jesse says honestly. Because he knows that Dana is Catholic, and he had finished on Emma's tits, which didn't count according to her Church. 

Plausible deniability, he had told Emma, smearing his cum over her nipple with his thumb. 

“Then what the hell were you doing with her?” Dana says loudly, as Santos approaches the lockers. Trinity glances at the pair of them, raises her brows, and backs away with her hands in her pockets.

“She doesn't have a car,” Jesse says, watching Santos retreat. “So I offered to give her a ride home.”

Dana throws her hands up in the air. “She's been Uber-ing home just fine this whole time!”

“I'm taking care of our own.”

She narrows her eyes into a severe line. Points an accusing hand at his locker. “I cannot believe I'm asking this, but then why no goddamn gift of pop today?”

“I ran out,” he says. Also true. But it was because he was going to go get more melon cream soda, but instead he spent the night with his fingers shoved so far inside Emma's mouth and cunt that she was cursing Dana's poor God to shreds. 

Dana is winding herself up some more. Puffing up her chest to berate someone she’s never had to waste her breath on before. The poor, wonderful woman. Jesse stops her.

“Look. I read an article on statistics of sexual assaults with Uber rides. It didn't sit right with me. She lives on my way home. I'm not going to make her take an Uber just to avoid the optics of giving her a ride home.”

This was also all genuinely true. And weighing on his mind long before Emma cornered him in the break room yesterday to ask him out.  

Dana finally deflates somewhat. “I saw the same article,” she says with a sigh. “I'm glad she got home safe.”

Jesse can sense it. They've achieved stasis. Hell yeah. He nods toward the board. “Where do you need me?”

“Probably central seven.” He grins as Dana retrieves her reading glasses from her pocket. The sight might as well be the sunrise to him. The start of the goddamn day. “Come on.”

“What the hell was Dana yelling at you for this morning, Jesse?” Santos says. She scoots her stool closer to the patient. “Give me two silk. Joy, watch this.”

Joy sidles up to Santos. “Dana thinks Jesse took baby nurse Emma's virginity last night,” she says, blunt. 

Jesse's glad for his middle age at that moment. Twenty, thirty years ago he might have jumped out of ill-fitting sneakers and denied it something stupid and loud. But right now, he just opens a fresh box of Sofsilk off the cart. 

Santos snorts a laugh, and then her eyes widen as Joy stands her ground. “Wait, you're serious?”

Joy’s head fucking rolls on her shoulders to stare at his wrists like she was about to cuff them herself. “Yup,” she says, stretching out the single syllable like sticky dough. Jesse hands Santos the requested stitches. 

“Really?” Santos looks up at him as well, though directly at his face with a healthy dose of skepticism. “Uncle Jesse? Baby whisperer Van Horn?”

Jesse nods vaguely as he swabs the area with betadine. “Mhmm.”

Santos pierces skin. “And why did Dana think this?”

“I gave Emma a ride home,” Jesse says, before Joy can say anything. 

Santos rolls her eyes. “Right. Then Huckleberry and I must be on our second kid by now.”

Jesse hums again, over the almost audible sound of Joy’s fuming beside him. 

“Joy, take over.” Trinity stands. “Gotta go check on my dear husband and father of my children.”

Dr. Kwon replaces Santos on the stool as the curtain slides open and shuts. The indoor breeze ruffles his hair as he stares down at the top of Joy’s bowed head. Calculating. 

“Need anything else?” he says evenly. 

“Oops,” Joy says, with what he supposed was her version of delicacy. 

Jesse cocks a brow. “Were you stuffed inside one of the lockers this morning or something?”

She scoffs. “Is that a short joke? Or a bullying joke?”

“It's a question. How'd you hear that conversation?”

“Hey. You force me to give up my secret Asian market, asking about melon cream sodas.” He watches as more skin is pierced. “Next thing I know, baby nurse’s thirst is being quenched every day by melon cream sodas, Dana's all mad at you even though she fucking loves you, baby nurse is all of a sudden in your WRX and then Dana's yelling at you twelve hours later?” Joy looks up at the ceiling, light reflecting off her piercing. He can't help but note that she fucking knows what a WRX is. “I don't need to hear shit, Van Horn. I've got reasonable deduction skills.”

“Sure.”

She bends over her work again. “Look, Dana's not an idiot. She doesn't fucking believe that you only gave her a ride home. But she'll delude herself because otherwise her mind’s gonna be filled with gross images of you dicking down her baby nurse.”

“Sure,” Jesse says again. It's not like he feels good about it. 

“And you know I don't believe you. But unlike Dana, I don't care.” She ties off the silk. “Except I have just one question.” 

He hands over scissors. “Go ahead.”

“If sex with co-workers was on the table—” Joy waves a hand generally around herself with the scissors. “Hello? I would've been first in line.”

He exhales. “You've not looked me in the eye even once in your life.”

Snip. “Is that what you like, Mr. Melon Man? Eye contact?”

“I'm not answering that.”

Joy snaps off her gloves. “Fine, I'll ask baby nurse.”

“If you do, it'll be in front of Dana,” he warns her. He peels off his gloves and throws them in the soiled bin. “She's not letting Emma out of her sight today.”

“Fine.” Joy tosses her own gloves so they land limply on top of his. “I'll revert back to my powers of deduction, then.” 

He doesn't have a melon cream soda to give her today, but Emma eventually finds a way to slip herself into him anyway. Finds him alone in BH1, full view of Dana's desk, she must have something good.

She waves at him from the open door as if she ever needs to hook his attention. Holy hell, he likes her little waves, small hands, how they barely wrap around his cock.

“Hi, Jesse?” she says. 

He recognizes that voice now. The one she gets when her breath comes shallow and quick, and she speaks at the end of each exhale instead of at the top of each inhale. When she sounds even more girlish and saccharine to him, thickening his blood. 

“Yeah?” 

“Spanish-speaking patient in triage 2, can you come interpret?”

He glances past her head out at the Pitt. There are a half a dozen shapes of people out there who could definitely hear this exchange. “And Mateo? He's unavailable?”

“Um.” She blinks. “I just came straight to you. I know you speak Spanish.”

“Mateo is a native speaker, find him first. Then come find me if he's busy.”

“Oh. Right.” She nods. “Plausible deniability,” she says, out fucking loud. 

“Holy hell,” Jesse mutters. He's not going to fucking look again, but he just knows Dana is staring down Emma's back in the door. 

“Sorry. To bother you,” Emma clarifies, a little panicked. Pivots on her heel, her hands reaching for purchase on her stethoscope around her neck, though she's still looking back at him. “I'll go find Mateo.”

“Mhmm.”

Sorry, she mouths at him again. And she does look it. Her knuckles white on her Littmann. Fuck, she's such a sweetheart. He wants to tuck her under his chin, kiss her forehead, and have her spit out his name as she soaks his fingers. 

Good girl, he mouths back. 

Emma looks down, cheeks tight. Finally takes her leave, though the door takes another second to close behind her. 

He discovers that it's not Dana at her back. It's Dr. Fucking Joy Kwon, pressed lips over crossed arms and legs.

Holy hell, he's going to pay for that one. 

He's just lit up in the park when Joy sequesters him. Goddamn, he thinks. Being cornered left and right today by these women. What a journal entry this would be. 

Jesse offers her a cigarette. Not a drag from his, though. That's reserved for his angel. Preferably after he's dicked her down. 

Joy ignores his outstretched open pack. Takes out a Nature Valley bar from her pocket instead. “Can I ask you something?” she asks the street-parked car in front of them. He supposes she thinks he's Mr. Melon Eye Contact now. Well he's not going to beg her for it. 

“I don't think it's possible to stop you,” he says, still dry. He hasn't survived decades of hitchhiking and tobacco tar to be goaded by some kid. 

“How have you managed to trick like, everyone with your chill guy, America's single hot-but-harmless middle-aged uncle act?” She peels back the green wrapper. “Are you casting illusionment spells or some shit?”

He exhales smoke. “If everyone sees the same thing, maybe it's not an act.”

She takes a crunchy bite. “I can't believe you got Santos, too,” she says through an irritatingly full, garbled mouth. “I trusted her to see it. I lost respect for her today.”

“Do all of your opinions of people depend on their opinion of me?” Jesse says, before he can rethink it. Shit. He's usually not the one to ask questions at the Pitt. He reacts. Even then, keeping it on the mild side. It's gotten him this far. 

Joy is fucking good. He hasn't taken bait like that in—well, he supposes since he took Emma's bait, swallowing it whole and then licking her off his lips. 

“You're so easy to research, too. You know there's a picture of you playing bass on stage in the Old School Cool subreddit?”

“I didn't know that. I don't know what that is,” Jesse says.

“Of course not, that's why you belong on that subreddit.” She takes another massive bite. Promptly chokes on the damn thing. Jesse rolls his eyes, but thumps her between her shoulder blades to help. With the hand holding his lit cigarette, raining some ash down her back, because—

“Could you pick something goddamn messier?”

“Could you?” Joy says, whipping her head up to glare at him directly. He takes an audible step back. 

Fuck. His lips twist into a silent snarl. 

“I see through you.” She waves a finger at him. “God, baby nurse is getting some. With fucking eye contact apparently.”

Jesse slips his cigarette between his lips. He's goddamn fucking fucked anyway. “Mhmm.”

Joy groans. “Oh my God, she is, isn’t she?”

He glances at her. Is she getting off on this? “Is this out of your system now? Can we move on?”

“I know you know you’re hot.”

“Sure.”

“Just actually admit it. Out loud. And then we can move on.”

He just raises a brow. Walks away anyway. Holy hell, these kids. They don’t realize that no one is required to meet demands for things that don’t matter. That it didn’t matter if something existed on a subreddit if he could just stroll away from it. 

“Can you get me a melon cream soda?” Joy calls after him. Goddamn. Choke on it. 

“Water fountain’s that way,” Jesse mutters, giving her the finger. 

“You're taking Emma home again today?” Dana asks. Double checking her work, he's guessing. He's waiting by the lockers this time while Emma finishes up a debriefing. Reciprocity. 

“Yeah.” Eventually. He wants her on his bed first. Or his couch, if only to demonstrate how a real sofa ought to support two people’s bodies. 

“You're keeping her safe?” Dana says, a little sad lilt in her voice. Shit. Joy’s right, Dana fucking knows. Jesse misses the days when he only made Dana smile. She has a lovely smile. 

“I take care of our own, Dana.”

She does smile at him then. It's not quite the same as before. But she squeezes his arm and says, “Alright, hon. Thanks.”

He pulls out his phone when Dana leaves. Gets to the checkout page of Emma's melon cream sodas when he sees the now-familiar pair of fucking feet come into view.

“You done choking on your hubris, Joy?” Jesse says without looking up.

Her feet pause. 

“Holy fucking shit, you could get away with murder,” Joy realizes aloud. 

“I'm not murdering anyone.” Though he finally gives it to her. “But yes, probably.”

“Jesus Christ. I'd be calling CPS on you right now if you weren't so hot.”

Jesse wonders if Joy is only running her mouth so much in hopes that he'd stuff it full of his cock to shut her up. And much like Dana socking his jaw, it wouldn't have been the worst thing. But he was full up on bad decisions already with Emma. 

On cue, she appears. Holy hell, sweet, angel, baby. He grins. 

“I'm taking you home today,” Jesse tells her. “Emma.”

“Thank you so much, Jesse,” she says with a full send smile. No fucking returns. She wants to giggle, he can tell. You can do whatever you want, he'll tell her soon. He wants to sling an arm over her shoulders. Lick the side of her face. 

“Kill me,” Joy mutters under her breath. 

“Oh, hi Dr. Kwon.” Emma gives her the sweetest wave, two goddamn insulting feet away from her face like Joy was the kid sent to the corner of the classroom, and Jesse could have dropped to his knees and eaten her out right then. 

Hell yeah, baby, he'd mumble into her angel cunt. That was perfect. Your fucking audacity. Good fucking girl. 

Jesse is opening the passenger side door for Emma when Javadi walks by and smiles and nods at the pair of them.

“What do they know?” Emma asks him when he seals them in. 

He glances at the rearview mirror. “I'm giving you rides home while you save up for a car to spare you from the expense and risks of getting an Uber every day.”

“Oh.” She leans toward him over the center console. Lets loose a giggle that she's probably been holding in twelve hours. Her cheeks push at the little curls that frame her face. Eyes shining in this dull parking garage. “Because you're nice, Jesse?”

He exhales a laugh. The low sun hits her face as they pull out. Shifts gears before squeezing her thigh. “Mhmm.”

He gives her a tour when they get to his place. Fuck it, he does have restraint. 

“What is this?” Emma asks, pointing at a brass carousel of cherubs on his coffee table. 

He clicks the button, and the panels of the carousel pop out in the satisfying, mechanical way that new plastic-polyester trinkets don't do anymore. A twinkle of music. “Vintage cigarette holder.”

She fingers one of the exposed cigarettes. “Would you ever quit?” she says, like she's worried about his body. 

He pushes down again, hiding the cigarettes once more so it's just a quiet, whimsical carousel again. “One vice at a time?”

“Mmm.” She picks up a thick magazine from the table. 80’s Architectural Digest. “Oh.” She looks up at him. “I'm the other vice.”

“Yeah, kid.”

She frowns. Maybe it's just her bone structure, but it looks more like a pout. “I want to be good for you.”

“You are, baby.”

“The other way, I mean.”

“That too.”

Jesse wonders if he has to toss the breadcrumbs on himself again. He's already half-hard. Has been since he started driving. Or, if he's honest, since Emma was a little mean to Joy. 

She's staring at him. Glossy-thick paper clutched in her hands. It's like she has to hold everything with both hands, they're so fucking small. 

“I've been so wet all day, Jesse,” she whispers with anguish, like it's a chronic state of misery. 

He walks away. 

“Where are you going?” Emma blurts out behind him. 

“Washing my hands,” he says. “You should too.” 

“Take everything off except your underwear.”

He pulls that off last for her. He wants to handle it. Rubs his thumb in the soaked cotton, before tossing it on the coffee table. It catches on the cigarette holder, a perverse flag sticking to the chipped enamel cherubs. 

“I'm keeping that shit, baby,” Jesse tells her. He kneels on the rug in front of her. Her chest is rising and falling rapidly as he palms her ass. He can smell her in the fucking air. He's never burning another candle in here again. “Do you want me to fix it, baby? You want me to make it better?”

“Oh gosh—Jesse, can I—” Her fingers find his hair. She's half-heartedly tugging as he spreads her legs. Harder, kid. “Jesse—”

He noses at her clit. “Talk to me.”

“Can I see your cock?” she babbles. He chuckles, letting his breath wash over her. She shudders. 

“You want to see my cock while I eat you out?” Emma moans. He's slipped the tip of his thumb inside her. “Don't think you can see shit like this, baby. Emma. Emma, pretty baby. Pull my hair.”

She's about to complain about him not listening to her but he smothers her with his tongue. Her hips jerk and she yelps a little and he eases up, licking gently around her clit, pulsing lazily with his thumb. Adds more pressure when she tugs at his hair. 

“Mhmm. Good girl,” he mumbles. Scrapes his beard against the inside of her thigh. “Give me one, and then I'll show you my cock.”

Her knees knock at his goddamn shoulders after she comes. He has to hold her up, she's bracing herself against him, apologizing through moans, something about I've never come standing up before—

Jesse just scoops her into his arms. Speed running the rest of the house tour as he deposits her in his bed. 

She opens her mouth, already reaching for his belt. “You said—”

“Goddamn, kid.” He nods at her, and she nearly attacks the fastening of his pants. “Sweetheart wants some fucking dick.”

“I do, Jesse,” she breathes. “I want yours. Gosh, I want you inside me—”

She yanks everything off at once. Makes an impatient sound directed at his shirt, and he takes care of it for her with a laugh. 

“Jesse.” She crawls up onto her knees, but he pushes her back to lay down. She's undeterred. Tries to hook her ankle around his waist to pull him in. “Jesse, please, you need to be inside me this time. Jesse.”

“‘Need’?” he repeats, as if he hasn't been fucking daydreaming about stretching out her cunt.

She's blinking up at him. “Jesse.”

He braces himself over her. Leans down to kiss her, his silver chain pooling in her clavicle, and she eagerly opens her mouth for his tongue. He taps lightly at her jaw as he sucks her lip. Warning, he supposes. Open up.  

He settles on his knees over her chest. Lowers his aching cock into her waiting mouth. Groans as she closes around it, warm, wet, wanting. She practically hugs his torso to her. Goddamn, she always wants him deeper. He strokes his thumb along her hairline. “You want to be fucking good for me?”

“Mmph.” She nods, and he pulls out of her mouth with another groan.

He reaches for his lube on the nightstand. Picks up her hand from where it was on his waist. “You're a good nurse, baby. You know where the prostate is.” He sucks on her finger before releasing it with a pop. She's wide eyed as he lubes up her finger. “Go on, kid. I'll tell you what's good for me. And I’ll make it good for you.”

Emma is careful with it. Angel, baby. Staring up at him, starry-eyed as she preps him like he needs her care. Maybe he does. 

“Shit.” It’s wrenched out of him. She’s just fucking going for it. He pitches forward, has to brace himself against the fucking headboard. “Holy hell, Emma. Baby. Do that shit again.”

She gives him what he asks for, along with a whimpering moan. She fucking loves this. He fucks himself back on her finger, reaching for his cock, then her tit, he can’t think. “Shit, oh shit—”

“Is that good, Jesse?” 

Fuck. He crowds her filthy, sweetheart mouth with two of his fingers. He can see it in her eyes, even as she gags. She’s fucking proud of herself. She should be.

“You’re so fucking good, baby.” He hangs his head, grits his teeth. He’s losing control. “You want me inside you?” Jesse says, knowing her answer full well.

She moans around his fingers, hips squirming. 

Fuck it, he thinks wildly. Full fucking send.

He gets her on her hands and knees, and then changes his mind. He hauls her up, squealing, and gets her on her back again, slipping a pillow under her hips.

“Look at me, I want to see you take it,” Jesse says. Goddamn, he sounds harsh. “Tell me if it hurts, baby,” he adds nicely, grabbing more lube.

“I’m already—”

“I’m not fucking you without this.” He’s felt how tight she is. “Especially not the first time.”

“Okay.” She’s staring down at his cock as he presses it against her cunt, bringing it up to bump her clit. She’s panting, her lips spit-slick and shiny. He pushes her loose curls from her face.

“Look at me, Emma. Sweetheart.” Joy was fucking right. Holy hell, he wants to see baby nurse’s eyes tear up as he fucks her. But no one needs to hear that shit out loud. He was just giving her a safe and sane ride home. “You okay, baby?”

She’s nodding, and then her head pushes back into his pillow as he eases the tip of his cock inside her.

“Holy hell, baby.” He has to take a calming fucking breath. Her neck is straining like he’s balls deep. “Good girl, that’s it. Take it. You okay, Emma?” 

 “Mhmm.” She screws her eyes shut. Taking open-mouthed breaths. He strokes her stomach. 

“You’re okay, baby. I’ll go slow.”

It’s agony. But that’s fine, he deserves some torture. He kisses her jaw, her eyelashes. Rubs her clit with slow, gentle circles. Murmurs in her ear, you’re so pretty taking my cock, baby. He’s not good at lying to her, so he doesn’t. Goes slow, makes it good for her. And then he hears it.

“Oh fuck, Jesse.” She fists his hair, the curse lodged in her throat.

“Shit, give it to me, baby.” He can feel her getting impossibly tight around him. He can’t help but thrust a little, and she cries out. “You like that?”

“Fuck,” she moans. Struggles to press up against him. He gets a hand on her thigh, shifts the angle, and she spits out another fuck. 

“Holy hell, you’re killing me.” He thrusts again, watching her fucking face. “Good girl. Look at me.”

Emma blinks wetly. Her nose scrunches up, and she sobs his name as she comes. He lowers his head, he has to fucking see it. The moment that he fills her up like she deserved.  

Jesse wants a goddamn cigarette after sex. But he’s guessing he’s quit, as of an hour ago. He’ll have to clarify with Emma.

He rubs his aching jaw. He had let Emma shove his head back between her legs to eat his cum out of her cunt and give her another orgasm as she pulled his hair at the roots, because she was a good fucking girl. She’s starting to learn exactly what she is owed.

She’s playing with the hair on his chest. Humming a little. He smiles at the contented sound. 

“Why was Dr. Kwon upset at your locker?” Emma murmurs.

Jesse shrugs. “I think she just needs some dick in her mouth.”

Emma cuddles up to his side. Soft, round tit pressed against his ribs. “Yours?”

He laughs. “Are you imagining it, kid?”

Her small fingers creep up his chest to curl around his chain. “It wouldn't be the worst thing.”