by TJ Cross
"You're crazy, Gurney," the administrator, a British transplant named Sandy Birmingham, said. "I've seen your logs. You might be a pro locum doc so I get that we pay you three times what the staff docs here get paid, but even you can't be that pressed for cash that you're working the timetables this brutally."
"I'm already extremely wealthy," Gurney answered drily. "It's just that I care about what I do. Plus I'm not tired. You know I don't get tired. Nor do I get distracted."
"Lourdes casually mentioned that you said something about distractions in the operating room just now," Sandy noted.
"Thinking about how I might have forgotten to do the laundry at home doesn't constitute me burning out," Gurney retorted, lying through his teeth as he kept the truth of his distraction away from her. "I'm solid."
"I know you are."
Gurney nodded, ready to leave. "I'd like to be around when the patient comes to, that's all," he explained softly, glancing away.
"You know him? Is there a conflict of interest here, doctor?" Sandy asked, pulling her glasses close to her eyes in interest.
"None of that sort. Just making sure that a young man with plenty of years to go in his life understands what sort of a reckless thing he's done tonight," Gurney smoothly offered.
Sandy nodded and let him get on with the shift and Gurney moved around the whole hospital for the next hour, helping out where he could.
He even bumped into his friend Dr Herrera in the break room. She was embarrassed to be caught indulging in her KitKat addiction. "What the hell are you doing here still, Gurney? I just got here after a long night of work. The same should've applied to you."
"Ever heard of a undedicated dragon? No? Me neither," Gurney said cockily. "I'm terrified that if I take a break this hospital would spiral out of control."
"Birmingham's got things tight, you know you could happily start taking things easier without the world ending, Gurney."
"I know, I know," Gurney answered. "I'm just hanging around so I can be the first one to speak to this patient. I'm even going to leave you to your KitKats. Bye now."
"Wait, Gurney!" Jessica said.
Gurney stopped, looking over at his friend. "Yes?"
"Thanks so much for your help with the Hosnia baby. I know you were just watching, but having you there helped a lot. And the way you spoke to the couple afterwards, it was... really eye-opening. It goes without saying that you're the best damn doctor here, but it's especially interesting to see your bedside manner with shifter patients."
"It's nothing," he insisted.
"It was so natural that I was thinking how cute it would be if you settled down and had an omega of your own and, maybe, who knows, a couple of hatchlings. Happiest little family ever."
Hatchlings! Gurney laughed. "I would never call my kids hatchlings."
"That's just you," Jessica grinned. "The rest of your weird-ass peers disagree. I think it's gross, but hey, that sort of talk is racist now apparently. Hatchling man. Hey... I'm curious. Dragons... you guys lay eggs, right? Instead of the mammalian way we do things, right?"
"Actually, most dragons prefer pairings with other shifters or humans to get the whole egg thing out of the way. Egg-hatched dragon births are... messy. We don't have the sort of infrastructure for that anymore. This isn't the middle ages anymore. And female dragons are extremely rare. I don't think I know even a single one," Gurney noted.
He didn't exactly keep in touch with any of the other dragons in the world, however few there were. It was just a rule of thumb that helped life go easier. Dragons were natural competitors, and if he started making friends he would only invite a lot of trouble into his life. The last thing he wanted at this stage of his perfectly successful life was to fight other dragons over who was the most dominant creature over all of North America.
"So no eggs. Gotcha," Jessica said. "You know, I could be the most prolific medical journal contributor in the world if I just sat down with you an hour every day, asking you about your reproductive habits."
"Better that you're the one who writes all about my naughty habits, than some random stranger," Gurney remarked. "Anyway, I've got a patient to watch over."
"Not like you to care so much about one person, Dr Keller," Jessica pointed out.
"I enjoy breaking all possible preconceived notions, Dr Herrera."
Even Gurney was surprised by how quickly he walked back to the other side of the hospital, Brandon's ward the destination in his head.
There was nobody in the room when he got there, but Gurney was observant enough to notice a sling bag placed on the seat by Brandon's hospital bed. The patient slept comfortably, alone.
"A girl," he murmured, surprised to discover his heart sinking having discovered the possibility of the handsome younger man having a girlfriend.
Brandon seemed to stir at his words. "Hmm?" he said, opening his eyes.
Gurney immediately sat down, pulling the chair forward. "Mr Holland," Gurney began. "You've been in an accident. A car hit you. Do you remember any of it?"
Brandon's eyes widened, going wild as he suppressed the instant feeling of panic. "Shit, shit, shit," he said. "Is Zara okay? Do you know where she is? Did she get hit too? It's all my fault, I shouldn't have gotten drunk."
"Zara... your girlfriend?" Gurney asked, unable to resist the subtle probe to discover if he was single.
Brandon laughed, a dry, almost coughing sound. "No, she's not my girlfriend. Far from it. Just a friend. But she was with me when I got hit... we were doing a photoshoot together."
Gurney lifted her bag to show it to Brandon. "I'm guessing she's here somewhere, just not here right now. I'm Dr Gurney Keller, I operated on you. You might not feel it now, but you broke your right arm. It's pretty nasty... but you'll heal. Fast."
"Ow," Brandon said as he began to test his arm. "Well, that sucks. I'm right-handed."
"I'm going to have a nurse set you in a cast, but I just want to reassure you that you will heal very quickly. Faster than most people with broken limbs. Much faster."
Brandon raised his eyebrows, wiggling his body in an attempt to sit up as he tried to face Gurney on the same level. "What do you mean, faster than most people? Why will I heal faster?"
"Because I'm a damn good doctor," Gurney remarked, having no desire at all to reveal the real reason. Most humans would freak out at the prospect of having been unconsciously used for blood magic... even if it was the one thing that saved them.
Gurney could tell Brandon was looking at him in a more considered way, assessing and examining the doctor with his eyes. Intuitive, the dragon thought. This was a boy who paid attention to his surroundings.
"I'm guessing cycling into oncoming traffic isn't the sort of thing you normally do," Gurney observed.
"You can say that again. I'm not a reckless person at all. It was just that... well, I'm no good with alcohol. I... ugh, I feel so bad about it. Do you know if they were able to recover any of my stuff? I had cameras with me. They were pretty expensive, I'm not going to be able to replace them. Not if I have to pay for hospital bills first," Brandon said, sighing.
"Brandon, this is the last thing you need to worry about right now. You've been in a very serious accident. Your recovery should be your only priority right now," Gurney said, placing his hands on the edge of the bed as he leaned in.
"Well, thanks for reminding me," Brandon said with a touch of sarcasm. He tried to jerk his right arm forward to make his point, but all he managed to do was nudge his shoulder forward and bite his lip down to suppress a cry of pain.
Gurney shook his head, chuckling. "That's not a good idea. Not right now, at least. Try that again and you might just pass out from shock."
The dragon watched his patient intently, as Brandon closed his eyes and pressed the back of his head back down to his pillow. Gurney gestured towards the hospital bed's controls, offering to raise or lower it as Brandon needed, but the younger man only shook his head wordlessly at the offer.
A pea
ceful silence grew between them in the room, and yet Gurney was surprised by how agitated he was inside. His heart pounded, his emotions spiking for some reason. Brandon, he thought, registering the idea that his unexplainable attraction for the young man was somehow the cause of his steely composure cracking.
"This is my card," Gurney abruptly said, fishing in his pockets. "In case you have any questions about the procedure we performed on you. I'm more than happy to answer your questions any time of the day."
The prideful dragon actually felt ashamed immediately after this, thinking about how desperate he was to maintain some way to communicate with Brandon after he was going to be discharged.
"Oh," Brandon said, nodding and pointing to the bedside table with his chin for Gurney to place the card down. He's thinking that he's never encountered such an interested doctor before, Gurney thought as self-doubt crept into his thoughts.
No, he was just stressed. This happened sometimes. He had outlets for it. He glanced at his expensive Swiss watch, realizing he had enough time for a full sleep before he was able to go to the only place he could trust to de-stress.
He tried to justify his behavior. Brandon wasn't unique. The high-stress work life of saving other people through the precision skill of his surgery always meant he would have to deal with a buildup of tension and stress from even the most routine days in the hospital. He already knew he happened to handle stress better than any of his coworkers -- just ask Sandy or Jessica.
Gurney reopened his eyes, satisfied that he was able to quell his lustful inner dragon, and looked towards Brandon once more. God, what I would do to kiss those lips.
"I'm glad you've regained consciousness... I, ah, I'll take my leave now. Hopefully your friend will have more information for you about your belongings. You'll still need to wear a cast but I don't see why they wouldn't discharge you after that. My shift's ended, so I'll probably see you... some other time," Gurney said, standing to make his exit before he found some way to make their electric first meeting too awkward.
Brandon nodded a few times. He opened his mouth, as if processing and editing his own words before saying them -- but he closed them again. Gurney nodded in return and turned to leave, but that finally prompted Brandon to speak.
"I'll call you," the patient said with a small smile. Even Gurney was able to detect the romantic interest in that.
CHAPTER FOUR
Brandon
He woke up when he heard her voice. "Hey," Zara said, greeting him as she sat down in the seat by his bed. "Glad to see you're up."
"Been up for a while," he answered. It was true. Brandon had been spending a fair amount of time now reviewing the last few hours, yet his mind kept dragging himself to the one scene he was replaying over and over in his head.
That gorgeous doctor.
Brandon sat up, glad to find that doing so didn't hurt him anymore. In fact, nothing about his arm hurt now, although he was still getting used to the cast that had been set on his arm. It wasn't even white -- the nurse had opted for a pale baby blue. He had never broken or fractured anything in his body before, so getting used to it was something he clearly needed to do.
It's a little itchy, he thought, before returning his attention to Zara. "I'm glad you're here. What time is it now? Are you sure you don't have work?"
"Gosh, B," Zara said, shaking her head. "One of my best friends is in the hospital because of something that's all my fault, and you expect me to go to work? That's just not happening, babe."
"It's not your fault."
Zara shook her head, a self-deprecating smile on her lips. "I knew you were bad with alcohol but I offered you the flask all the same. And to think we were going to cycle down to the bottom of the bridge? That was stupid of me."
"Stupid of me," Brandon insisted. He had had plenty of time to think back on the events of last night and there was one thing he was absolutely sure about -- that it wasn't Zara's fault.
"Well, I disagree, but I guess we'll have to agree to disagree," his friend concluded. She was rarely the sort of girl who apologized over anything; all too often he had found himself frustrated by the way she would go out of her way to cast herself away from blame over anything at all, and sometimes even twist things so that failures she was actually responsible for were spun to look like she was the victim of other people's incompetence or malice.
He was glad to see this sheepish version of Zara.
"The doctor came to see me when you were away. You left your bag, so we both thought you were still in the hospital," he said, nodding to her bag hanging from the back of the chair.
Zara nodded. "You were still asleep or unconscious or whatever, so I figured I would try and get a little bit of sleep first. Frank's place was nearby anyway."
"Oh my God, Zara, I got in an accident and you took some time off to meet your fuck buddy?" Brandon said, grinning in mock-outrage.
"What can I say? I'm addicted!"
"You know, Frank's actually pretty gross looking," Brandon said. He had never liked the guy, gangly and unnervingly tall with a head that seemed a little too narrow and oval. A bit of a freak. But Brandon was hardly the sort of guy to judge someone based on their appearance, and it just so happened that Frank was also an aggressive loudmouth who typically could be found holding court with intellectual discussions he mostly spent interrupting other people's views on.
"When he's behind me I don't have to worry about how gross he looks, just that he's got an amazing cock," Zara said, the twinkle in her eye gleaming as she gushed about her friend's impressive appendage. "Biggest one I've ever had. Like, genuinely big. Forearm-sized. And we're not talking my petite arm here, we're talking like, the circumference of a fat girl's wrist."
"Zara!"
They both erupted into giggles, even though Brandon couldn't help but feel a strange feeling echo all over him. What was it, exactly? Not jealousy. Maybe, just maybe, a little bit of jealousy. Although he had established he didn't really have an attraction to Zara, just the idea that she was having great sex and he wasn't made him want to be having sex with her.
Or anyone for that matter.
Except that really wasn't Brandon's style, he knew all too well. Even if it rankled him, he was always going to be willing to wait for the right man. Someone gorgeous and loyal and ultimately just as devoted to him as he would be.
"Gurney," he murmured, the enigmatic doctor's name warm on his breath even as he made sure to say it softly, so it wouldn't attract Zara's attention.
He glanced almost fearfully towards his friend, hoping she didn't catch it. It worked. She was looking at her phone. "Oh, I'm so glad to be sitting down right now," Zara said, her tone making it quite sure she was beginning a new story. "We did it standing up, and he kinda like, lifted me up and carried me while he was still inside me, and just... wow. I could not possibly have gotten any more wet then."
Brandon shook his head, amused. "Three letters for you, Zara. T. M. I."
"Okay, okay, I'm sorry. Just that a girl's gotta get pleasured, you know?"
They both laughed again. "A boy, too," Zara added knowingly, nodding towards Brandon.
He groaned. "I'm so miserably unloved right now. And in walks this absolutely stunning man, hard features and slick hair like he's some kind of Gucci model... turns out he's the doctor who saved my life."
"Older man?" Zara asked, raising an eyebrow.
"No, no, he looked... not that much older than me. You know how some guys in their mid-twenties can look a little older, like 28 or 29, because they're dressed all sharp and look like they've got their shit together?" Brandon mused. "Gurney was like that."
