Trapp
The doors of Medic Forty-three didn’t slam shut. Instead, they sealed with a heavy, pressurized hiss, muting the snare drum of raindrops outside the bay and amplifying the sound against the fiberglass roof within.
“Are you sure you don’t want me in the back?”
He was going to put Shay Marsh in the fucking ground the next time he saw the shifter’s smug, oily smile.
Here we fuckin’ go.
It was a mistake to be testing him with a lecture at the end of his shift.
A middle-of-the-night mental health crisis had him and Oleg chasing a naked goblin up and down the street like a loose chicken, followed shortly thereafter by a cardiac arrest in the flex developments, necessitating him pulling on a pair of waders in the back of the ambulance as Oleg careened through traffic to reach the coding amphibious patient.
He was damp, tired, cranky, his wolf was shifting restlessly in his bones, and he wanted nothing more than to go back to his brother’s house, inhale some stupidly overpriced takeout from Grayson’s refrigerator, take a scalding hot shower, and masturbate until he was unconscious.
“Close the door,” the grizzled orc growled, and Trapp had sighed, reminding himself that he had a trust fund and would be fine if he walked out of this office unemployed.
It’s not too late for a third career. He could get a job with the third-party contractor that exclusively staffed for in-flight medical care if he had to. His mother, however, would be devastated. It was with her and her alone in mind that he took the seat Magruh indicated.
“Why won’t you take the lieutenant bars, Trapp?”
He blinked in surprise. This wasn’t the conversation he’d expected to have with the chief. “Because I don’t want it. There are plenty of others who do. Give it to one of them.”
“I wasn’t asking your permission, Hemming. I said why. This is the third time you’ve refused. Why don’t you want it?”
He shook his head soundlessly for a long moment, unsure how to verbalize his reasoning. He didn’t need to hear that the rank was more special treatment. He didn’t need to be another Hemming in Cambric Creek climbing as high as he could go.
“I don’t like paperwork.”
The chief snorted. “You’re full of shit.
You know, you’re exactly like your old man.
You look more like him than any of your brothers do, and you act like him.
The apple fell straight down with you.” Magruh leaned back, folding his hands over his thick middle.
“What’s this mess with you and the new doctor over at the urgent care clinic?
Explain why I had to come back from a trip out of town to see my grandkids to find my most stalwart, dependable employee arguing with his captain, not eating with his crew, and with an official complaint in his file. Are you quiet quitting on me, Hemming?”
“I guess that depends, Chief. Are you quiet firing me?”
The big orc blew out an exasperated breath, shaking his head.
“Just like him. No, Trapp. I’m not firing you.
I’m not putting you on probation, even though your shit attitude probably warrants it.
Not yet, at least. I’m telling you to knock it off.
You walk into that clinic as a representative of this department, not your ego.
You want to have a dick-measuring contest?
Do it on your own time, out of uniform. But if you choose to continue this, don’t think I won’t personally contact the state licensing board about your unprofessional on-the-job behavior.
It’s a good thing you can get a job at City Hall, because I can promise you won’t be working for any EMS in-state. ”
He nodded stiffly. So much for your third career plan as a flight medic. The dressing down was earned, and if this was the worst coming to him, Trapp knew he was getting off easy.
“Now,” Magruh continued with a rough scrap of laughter. “On that note, I’m here to notify you of your assignment for the next shift. You’re going to have a ride-along”
His hands tightened around the arms of his chair, breath hitching. His wolf growled in warning, crouching low within him, tail swishing. All of a sudden, the office seemed too small, the lights too bright. They wouldn’t fucking dare.
“I had a phone call yesterday from a Dr. Marsh, over at Healers. This is his idea, so if you want to throw a little temper tantrum about it, go piss in the right direction. She’s going to be riding with you on your next forty-eight.”
Trapp opened his mouth to protest, but Magruh held up a thick finger, stopping him before he could draw breath. “Shut it. I don’t want to hear it. You’re not exactly in a position to be arguing, Hemming.”
He closed his eyes, wolf bristling, feeling as though he might spontaneously turn right then and there.
“But here’s what I will tell you,” the orc continued, tapping the same thick finger on the desk for emphasis.
“You run your shift the same way you would without her there, understand? I don’t need to tell you to do things by the book, because I know you already do.
Trapp, do not give her a reason to file another complaint against you.
I’m not joking. I won’t have a private practice facility thinking it can treat my crew like its staff.
They’re more than welcome to contract a private ambulance service for that.
In the meantime . . . keep it by the book and toe the line. Now go home and get some sleep.”
The intervening days off had been poorly spent. He’d slept, but it had been fitful. Tossing and turning, his nose twitching as if she were there, soft and sweet like clean rain.
At one point, he’d had a panicked moment in the shower, thick gobs of cum pooling atop the drain, not going down right away.
If he backed up one of Grayson’s showers from jerking off too much, his brother would never, ever let him live it down.
There would be a slideshow at the wedding, a step-by-step commemoration of the plumber’s work, the photographic evidence of his leavings, probably shown on a loop during the cocktail hour.
The heap of semen swirled down the drain a moment later, but Trapp wasn’t willing to leave anything to chance, making a wet-haired trip to the pharmacy for a box of Deliquesce. He wasn’t a ‘taur, but he’d been coming like one. Not taking any chances. Not with the way your luck has been.
When he’d woken, hours later, groggy and unrested, it was to a text from Owen.
I have updates, if you want them
Trapp pinched the bridge of his nose, deciding to relocate to the pool before responding to his younger brother.
You can always just roll off the float and drown.
He’d helped himself to a pack of the jelly eye patches from Vanessa’s little refrigerator atop the pool bar, finding it full of skin care products, opened one of Grayson’s Elvish spritzers, and dropped into his brother’s floating lounger before tapping open his phone screen.
Don’t shoot the messenger, okay?
Apparently Julia was here to finish emptying her place and turn in the key
She had lunch with a few teachers from her old grade, Tabi was sitting behind them
I guess she told them she was “tired of your commitment issues”
But she DID say she wanted to be closer to her family, so not all bad
Then they talked shit about her replacement. They were totally done with you
It pains me to say it, but Gray is right. Who cares?
Anyway, I think it’s all blowing over
Now he was back at work, having barely rested, having barely done anything other than think of her and the moment she’d be climbing into his rig . . . and now she was here.
Do you want her in the back? Or here, right under your nose, distracting you until you accidentally drive this box off a cliff?
“Oleg? Your call.”
The troll chuckled from the bench in the patient bay. “Yeah, no. I’m good.”
Trapp breathed out slowly, attempting to force his pulse to slow.
He couldn’t be antagonistic with her. Especially not when everything that happened inside the box was recorded.
Not when he was trapped so close to her for so long, her smell invading his senses.
And particularly not when he already felt an uncomfortable pressure thickening against his thigh.
If he picked a fight with her now, here, in such close confines, this close to the moon, his cock would be in control.
He would blow a hot, sticky load in his pants and be trapped with it, cooling against his skin as she inevitably noticed the dark stain against the blue fabric, probably smug in the knowledge of what her nearness had done. It’s going to be a long fucking shift.
“Alright then. Mornings are usually busy. Buckle up, Doc.”
***
“Is there going to be an actual patient at any point?” she asked at length, annoyance coloring her voice. She wasn’t sitting as stiffly anymore, although her hand still rested over the trauma pack like it was a comfort stuffie she was afraid to let go of.
Trapp gave her another sidelong look, his mouth wanting to twitch, forcing his face to remain impassive. It had been several hours since their mutual prison sentence had begun, several hours of bullshit calls, which, she was learning, were the vast majority of the calls made to emergency services.
“We don’t actually wish for that,” he said shortly, just before the next tone came through.
Medical required, to an address that had him rolling his eyes with its familiarity.
“This guy, again,” Oleg huffed from the back as Trapp relayed his copy to dispatch. “What is this, the third time this month?”
“Frequent flyer,” Trapp said shortly, addressing her furrowed brow. “There’s more than a few of them.”