DASHIELL
It was already 8:15 PM.
The hospital lights felt too bright this late, even on the lower settings I always requested. I had just finished my final neuro check on Elias Grant. The sixteen-year-old was stable for now, but his seizures were still concerning. I had adjusted his medication, ordered a repeat EEG for tomorrow morning, and written extremely detailed notes so the night team wouldn't miss anything.
I stood in my office, the room quiet except for the low hum of the air conditioning. My last task was tidying up. I arranged every file, pen, and tablet perfectly, edges aligned, descending order of importance, labels facing the same way. Only when everything looked correct did my shoulders relax a little.
I picked up my bag, slipped my white coat off, and folded it neatly over my arm. Then I waited.
Alexander was late again.
I didn't like it when he was late. Our routine was that he picked me up. Breaking routine made my brain feel itchy and loud. I rocked gently on the balls of my toes near my desk, fingers tapping a fast rhythm against my thigh as I stared at the door.
Ten minutes passed.
Then fifteen.
I was just about to text him when the door opened.
Alexander stepped in, still in his white coat, sleeves rolled up, looking powerful and composed even after a long day. The moment his eyes landed on me, something dark and hungry flashed across his face.
He didn't say anything.
He closed the door behind him, locked it with a soft click, and crossed the room in three long strides. Before I could even say hello, he grabbed my face with both hands and attacked my mouth.
The kiss was hard, deep, and starving like he had been holding back for hours. His tongue pushed past my lips immediately, claiming, devouring. One hand slid around my neck, gripping tight, while the other dropped to my waist and pulled me flush against him.
I made a surprised, muffled sound against his mouth. My bag slipped from my fingers and hit the floor.
For a few seconds my brain short-circuited. Too much. Too sudden. Too intense. My hands came up to clutch his white coat, fingers tapping erratically against the fabric as heat flooded my body.
When he finally pulled back just enough to let me breathe, I was flushed and panting.
"Alexander," I gasped, voice hoarse. "We are still in the hospital… someone could have seen…"
"I don't care," he growled, voice rough and low. He kissed me again, harder this time, biting my bottom lip before soothing it with his tongue. "I've been thinking about this since you walked out of my office earlier. Your fucking mouth. Your little taps. The way you looked at me when I said I wanted you in my OR."
I whimpered softly, overwhelmed but melting into him anyway. My toes curled hard inside my shoes. One of my hands moved to the back of his neck, tapping rapidly against his skin.
"You're… you're being inappropriate at work," I mumbled between kisses, even as I kissed him back. "This is… this is against policy…"
Alexander laughed darkly against my mouth, the sound vibrating through me.
"I am the policy," he said, then kissed me so deeply my knees went weak.
When he finally pulled away, I was breathing hard, lips swollen, face burning. I stared up at him, eyes wide and a little dazed.
"You're late," I said, slightly indignant. "You said you'd come at eight-thirty. I waited. My brain feels loud now."
Alexander's eyes darkened with something like amusement and obsession all at once. He brushed his thumb across my swollen bottom lip.
"I'll make it up to you," he promised. "Let's go home."
I nodded, still trying to calm my racing heart and the overstimulation buzzing under my skin.
"Okay," I whispered. "But I get to pick the music and no touching me while you drive because that is dangerous."
Alexander smirked, picked up my bag from the floor, and took my hand.
We walked to the parking lot in silence, but it wasn't the bad kind of silence. Alexander's hand stayed on the small of my back the entire way, possessive, warm, steady. When we reached his car, he opened the door for me like always. I climbed in and immediately buckled my seatbelt, adjusting it twice until it felt perfect.
As soon as Alexander got in and started the engine, I turned to him.
"Elias Grant's case is complicated," I said, straight to business. "The right-to-left shunt is causing paradoxical emboli. That's why he's having focal seizures. We need to stabilize his neurology before you operate, otherwise the risk of intraoperative stroke goes up significantly."
Alexander hummed, one hand on the wheel, the other resting on my thigh as he drove out of the lot.
"I know," he replied calmly. "I reviewed the latest echo. His pulmonary stenosis is worsening faster than expected. I'm thinking of doing the full repair in one stage, but I want your input on timing. If his seizures aren't controlled, we may need to delay by forty-eight hours."
I nodded, fingers tapping lightly on my knee.
"Forty-eight hours minimum. I want another twenty-four-hour EEG and adjusted levetiracetam dosing. He's young. His brain is still developing. We can't be reckless."
Alexander squeezed my thigh, a small smirk on his lips.
"Look at you, telling the Chief of Cardiothoracic Surgery what to do."
I flushed but kept my voice steady. "I am the neurologist on the case. It is my job."
He chuckled, the sound warm in the dark car.
"I like when you get bossy, little anomaly."
The rest of the drive was quiet, but comfortable. I picked soft instrumental music and watched the city lights pass by, my foot rubbing gently against my ankle.
When we finally got home, Alexander parked the car and turned to me before I could open the door.
"What would you like to eat?" he asked.
I blinked, a little surprised he was offering.
"Um… the miso salmon with brown rice and steamed broccoli," I said. "The one with the light ginger sauce. Not too much sauce, please. And the broccoli should be slightly crunchy, not soft."
Alexander nodded like it was the most normal thing in the world.
"Light ginger sauce, barely coating the salmon. Broccoli steamed for exactly four minutes so it stays crisp. Brown rice, no butter. I know exactly how you like it."
I paused, tilting my head as I unbuckled my seatbelt.
"How do you know exactly how I like it? The sauce ratio. The way the broccoli should be slightly crunchy. You know it perfectly."
Alexander just winked at me, that dark, unreadable smirk on his face.
"Go change and take your bath. I'll make it."
I stared at him for a second, trying to logic it out in my head.
"You must have asked my family, that makes sense. You are very observant."
Alexander's smirk widened, but he didn't confirm or deny anything.
"Bath, Dashiell."
I huffed softly but got out of the car, still muttering logical explanations under my breath as I walked inside.
First, I went to my room and straight to the aquarium. The soft blue glow immediately helped calm the leftover static from the long day. I stood in front of the tank, rocking gently side to side on the balls of my toes.
"Hello," I whispered to the fish. "Did you all have a good day? The water looks very clear. The angelfish are swimming so gracefully today."
I checked the temperature (24.8°C perfect), made sure the automated feeder had done its job, and dropped in a tiny extra pinch of food because I felt like spoiling them.
"You are all very beautiful," I told them seriously. "Especially you two. Keep swimming nicely, okay?"
After a few minutes of quiet stimming and soft talking to my fish, I felt much better. I took a long, hot shower, letting the water pressure wash away the rest of the overstimulation then changed into my softest pajamas, a loose white t-shirt and gray sweatpants.
When I came downstairs on the balls of my toes, the house smelled amazing. Ginger, miso, perfectly seared salmon.
Alexander was already in the kitchen, sleeves rolled up, plating the food with surprising care. He looked up when I entered, eyes darkening as they ran slowly over me in my soft pajamas.
"Perfect timing," he said, voice low. "Come eat."
I walked over and sat down at the kitchen island, still a little surprised he had made the exact meal.
"You are very good at this," I said honestly, looking at the perfectly plated salmon. "The sauce ratio is perfect and the broccoli is steamed for exactly four minutes. How did you know?"
Alexander leaned against the counter across from me, arms crossed, watching me with that dark, intense gaze.
"I pay attention," he said simply, a small smirk playing on his lips.
I narrowed my eyes, my foot rubbing against my ankle under the stool.
"You pay very close attention," I replied. "You know exactly what I like and you know a lot of things about me that I never told you."
Alexander's smirk deepened, but his black eyes was calm and cold.
"I like knowing what makes you feel good," he said, voice low. "Food. Touch. Everything. It's useful information."
I chewed another bite, processing that.
"It should be creepy," I said bluntly. "But… I don't mind. Because it's you. And you are not normal."
Alexander let out a low chuckle. He walked around the island and stopped right behind me, placing his hands on the counter on either side of me, caging me in with his much larger body.
"You're right," he murmured against my ear, breath warm on my skin. "I'm not normal. And I have no intention of pretending to be."
I shivered, my fingers tapping rapidly against my thigh. His closeness made my skin feel electric.
"You're being inappropriate at dinner," I mumbled, even as I leaned back slightly against his chest. "We're supposed to eat like normal couples."
He laughed softly, the sound vibrating through me. One hand slid under my t-shirt, resting possessively on my bare stomach, thumb stroking slowly.
"Normal couples are boring," he whispered, nipping at my earlobe. "Eat your food, little anomaly. You're going to need the energy for what I have planned after this."
My face burned. I was already half-hard in my sweatpants.
"You are very… persistent," I muttered, taking another bite of salmon to hide my embarrassment.
Alexander's hand stroked lower, teasing the waistband of my pants.
"And you love it," he said, voice rough with satisfaction. "Even when you pretend to complain."
I didn't deny it.
Because he was right.
My cheeks were burning hot as I finished the last bite of salmon. Alexander's hand was still under my shirt, slowly stroking my stomach, his fingers occasionally dipping just under the waistband of my sweatpants. Every touch made heat pool low in my belly.
I set my fork down carefully, aligning it perfectly with the edge of the plate.
I swallowed, cheeks flushed, fingers tapping rapidly against my thigh under the counter.
"There is… something I have been meaning to try," I said suddenly, voice quiet but very direct.
Alexander went completely still behind me. His hand paused on my stomach.
I took a shaky breath and kept going, because once I started speaking I couldn't stop.
"I want you to blindfold me tonight," I admitted, embarrassed but honest. "With something soft. Not too tight. I… I think it would help with the lights and everything being too much. And I want you to hold my wrists down. Above my head. While you… do things to me. I don't want to be able to touch you or move much. I want to feel like I have no choice but to take whatever you give me."
I paused, then added even more shyly:
"I have been thinking about it a lot. Being… helpless. But safe. Because it's you."
The silence after I spoke was thick.
Alexander's breath brushed hot against my ear. His hand on my stomach trembled slightly, the only sign that my words had affected him.
"Fuck, Dashiell," he rasped, voice rough and dark with sudden hunger. "You have no idea how perfect you are."
He turned me around on the stool so fast I gasped. His pupils were blown wide as he stared down at my flushed face.
"You want me to blindfold you and pin you down?" he asked, voice careful. "You want to be completely at my mercy?"
I nodded quickly, cheeks burning, but I kept my eyes on his chest because eye contact was too much right now.
"Yes," I whispered. "I trust you. I know you won't hurt me. I just… want to feel small. And overwhelmed but in a good way."
Alexander groaned softly and kissed me hard, tongue pushing into my mouth like he was claiming every word I'd just said. When he pulled back, he was breathing heavier.
"You're going to kill me one day," he muttered against my lips. "My sweet, shy, filthy little husband."
He scooped me up without warning, lifting me off the stool like I weighed nothing. I wrapped my legs around his waist instinctively as he carried me upstairs toward his bedroom.
"You're getting exactly what you asked for tonight," he growled against my neck, biting down lightly. "Blindfold. My hands holding your wrists. And I'm not stopping until you're crying and begging."
I whimpered, burying my face in his shoulder, fingers tapping rapidly against his back.
"Okay," I whispered, voice shaky with nerves and excitement. "But… you have to tell me when it's too much. Because I might not be able to say it clearly."
Alexander's arms tightened around me possessively.
"I'll take care of you," he promised, voice suddenly softer but still dark. "Always."